Capture Your Grief Days 6 & 8: Books and Resources

I will come back to this and add links soon. 



Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Photography: I wish I had known about this right away, but basically a participating photographer comes to the hospital and takes photos of your family with the baby. We have just a handful of cell phone photos of Simone. In our rush to the hospital, we didn't bring a camera and our cell phones both were running out of battery. Having professional photos to capture our few hours together would have been priceless. 

Handprint Set: I will be forever grateful that Lane asked his parents to pick up a molding set so we could have Simone's hand and footprints. It is the most tangible proof of her existence we have. It's not the same as photos or ashes. And there are so few things that you get to keep of your baby's when they die at birth. We will treasure them always  

A Heart to Hold: this organization makes fabric hearts and fills them to your baby's weight so that the mama (and other family members) don't feel that emptiness as acutely. And each one is given in remembrance of another baby who died. I didn't know about this helpful resource back in April, and it would have been so healing in the immediate aftermath of Simone's death. My sister emailed the founder, who as it turns out , had a very similar experience too mine. Even though she typically does orders within the first 30 days, and she wasn't even accepting any orders at the time due to extreme demand, she quickly had a heart sent to our family. Nearly six months later, it is still healing. Easton immediately held it in his lap, Gabriela talks to it, and we all find comfort in cuddling with it. I can imagine how much more healing this might be, if sent right away. 

Something Happened: a beautifully illustrated, simply written story of a family whose baby died. The story was so similar to ours, down to the planting of a tree and garden. The story addresses emotions of everyone in the family in a truly beautiful way. Gabriela really enjoyed reading this book. I think it gave her a lot of comfort. 

Why Did You Die: this is a book full of activities to help a child process the death of a loved one. Some activities are designed to help kids learn certain concepts about death -every living thing dies, nothing you say or think can cause someone to die. The activities include things like writing a letter to the person who died, sharing a memory, drawing pictures of yourself and all the different feelings you have had surrounding the death. There are questions after each activity as well. I gave found these helpful, not only for Gabriela but for myself as well. 

SAND (Support After Neonatal Death): our SAND group has been such a helpful resource. We are still regularly attending meetings. Parents and even grandparents have come to different meetings for many different stages of loss: early miscarriage, pregnancy termination, pre-term labor babies, full term stillborn babies, babies who died shortly after birth, and even toddlers. It is no small task to hear everyone's story and to feel their grief. But these people truly understand what we are experiencing - the pain, the struggles, the awkwardness, all of it. 

Still Standing Magazine: this is an online magazine that has regular stories of loss and how people have managed through their grief. There are so many topics: pregnancy after loss, parenting through grief, siblings grief, self-care, grandparents, new normal, and more. These stories are written by people who know. Many of them are further along in the healing process. It's such a comfort and makes this journey less isolating. 

Carly Marie Project Heal: I have kind of fallen off my project heal wagon because I've been trying to manage my (still) impending miscarriage. But this is such a beautiful way to allow yourself to feel your grief, to record your journey, and connect with others on a similar path. I am going to try to do some catch up.  

October Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month: who even knew there was such a month. This is the Project Heal month. Some places have Walks to Remember, and October 15th is Wave of Light, where people in all different time zones light a candle at 7pm for and hour to honor babies and children who have died, creating a wave of light across the world. 

Sunflowers

Shortly after Simone was born, some dear friends of ours brought us five sunflower seedlings, one for each member of our family. We cared for them all, exactly the same. And the fifth sunflower, Simone's, died immediately. I don't think it lasted two days after transplanting it into the ground. 

While they were still just leafy stalks, Gabriela claimed a particular sunflower as her own and said it would be hers and Simone's. 

A month or so later, the sunflowers were five feet tall, and had beautiful giant flowers on them. Gabriela's though had something special. Her sunflower actually had two blossoms. One normal sized one and a tiny delicate second flower bloomed on that same plant. I didn't know it was possible. It only happened on this one sunflower in particular, the one G had claimed as hers and her sister's. 

We harvested the seeds and are saving some for next year so we can grow some again and be reminded of this extra beauty in nature. 

 

Easton Says

 

A glossary of Eastonisms

I don't really have a big list, but I don't want to forget the cute ways Easton says things, because it just doesn't last long. Somehow, Easton has learned that ice cream isn't actually "I scream" so he no longer says, "I want AAAH!" But here are a couple of his current isms. 

Two-ten: pretend. "Daddy, two-ten you are Dark Vader!"

SUH-urt: dessert. 

Hold off: let go, you know, the opposite of hold on. 

Uh-vehn: and then 

"Da pot": the bottom of a dish. Seeing the bottom of the dish is unacceptable when Easton is served something. "But I see da pot!!!!!!"

One word that is not in Easton's vocabulary: he. Easton always says "him" instead. "I'm the daddy. Him needs his phone"

And, sometimes, when he is feeling extra sassy, "yow such a wittle watty skunk!": you're such a little ratty skunk. Um. I don't know how he came up with that one. 

Homeschooling in first grade

We have been back to homeschooling for a month now, and it's going very well so far. 

Gabriela is enrolled in more activities than last year when I was giant and pregnant and not ready to commit to driving up and down the East Bay. This fall, Gabriela is taking a cooking class at the East Bay Waldorf School around the corner. The kids are supposed to use fresh fruits and veggies from the school's garden and CSA box to create seasonal dishes. 

Gabriela is also taking an art class in Alameda, which came recommended by some friends and Auntie Liss. We knew it was going to be good when we got there and saw this:

She has been doing some cool projects. The kids have these old books that they paint in directly.  They decorate the covers too. Last week, G decided she was going to put Simone on the cover of her book. 

This week, she will be starting her Lego Engineering History in Flight class along with a bunch of mostly boys in her homeschool group. And the class I am looking forward to most, family band! This is a parent/child class and we both will be playing the recorder and ukelele together. All these classes along with our regular park day with our lovely group of homeschool friends is going to make for an extremely busy yet exciting semester. 

Here are some fun photos from the last month. 

After lots of reading about Ancient Egypt, we got a Barbie at the thrift store so we could mummify her. Of course, G started by removing her brain. 

Daddy helped puncture Barbie's side so her organs could be removed. G rubbed her body with wine and rosemary oil, covered her in salt, and then wrapped her in cloth. She also sculpted some amulets that are placed on Barbie's body. Here she is, drying out. 

And here is Gabriela's ocean habitat that she painted. 

Easton is learning too. Here he is at Crab Cove, working the microscope on his own. 

Gabriela asked to learn how to sew as part of homeschool. Here she is with her first completed project. She chose the fabric, and while I did the cutting and ironing, she did all the pinning and sewing. She was so proud of the finished product, and is already trying to decide what she will be sewing next. 

Yesterday

A day in my life means waiting anxiously for my husband to return from work, so I can let out the tears I have held in most of the day.  It means knowing what I need to do to take care of myself, that the very things I need to do are likely hurting other people, and accepting that I just can't worry about it. It means the reason I have less patience with my kids is exactly the same reason that they need extra loving care from me. 

Most days are on the better side, but yesterday was a hard day - no reason in particular.  But even on the super good days, I think of my Simone every moment.

Santa Claus

Yesterday morning, I awoke to Gabriela announcing that she was certain I was in fact Santa Claus and very directly asked me if this was true. 

Now, I have always done my best to be very honest with her. This Santa thing has always made me feel a little guilty. Would I devastate her by trying to give her some magic at the holidays? I decided a long time ago that I would let her work through it, asking her what SHE thought, and leave it at that. 

But I did not expect to have this conversation at age six! What the heck?!? I asked her what she thought and very matter of factly she started, "how could a big fat chubby man squeeze through all those chimneys? And how could he carry a giant bag with everyone's gifts? And of course reindeer can't fly!" And she repeated that she thought it was me. And again, asked me if this was true. I asked her what was different about last year, and she replied that she IS six years old now. And again with the direct question, "are you Santa, Mommy?"

I suppose I had a choice in this matter, to weave some magical tale about Santa's special powers, to string her on just a little farther and enjoy that magic just a little longer. But I wanted to be honest. And if we're being honest here, I was proud of her critical thinking, the reasons she gave, and I wanted her to trust her reasoning, not to doubt it. And I didn't want to straight up lie to her either. 

So I dug up that magic of Christmas letter I pinned a couple years ago, thinking it might be a good resource years and years from now. We talked about it and I was so nervous about her reaction. 

How did it go? Well this girl was beside herself, giggling as I spilled the a Santa beans. I think she was proud of herself. And then her wheels started turning to what else, but Little House. "Mom! So it was really Mr. Edwards who brought gifts for Mary and Laura! He didn't want them to be sad!"

We also talked about how she knew a grownup secret now. She shouldn't talk about it with her friends or cousins because they might feel really sad to find out. 

It went pretty well, but I must admit that I am a little disappointed. I was hoping that innocent magic would last at least a few years longer. 

And then I started wondering, maybe kids are so disappointed and crushed when their parents bend over backwards to assure their children that Santa is real when they start having doubts. But no one is truly scarred so it can't be that big of a deal. 

Maybe it's more than that for me. I already feel like Gabriela isn't able to be a young child, learning that babies can die at the age of five. I had 30 more years of that innocence than her. Maybe I am disappointed more that yet another childlike innocence is gone. My baby is growing up too, too fast. 

Cherry Tree by Christianne

My smart, tender hearted, 17 year old niece shared with me a paper she recently wrote for her English class. Her assignment was to describe a fictional place so well that it appeared to be real. Christianne wrote about a garden for Simone. Her paper is written with so much love. I am thankful that she shared it with me and that she gave me permission to share it with you.

The Cherry Tree

​They say that home is where the heart is. My family is my heart. I was born in a small town in California, which is where most of my family resides. On my most recent visit, I was able to be a part of creating what is now one of my favorite places. My aunt’s backyard, over the course of five days, was transformed into a memorial named Simone’s Garden, and it is the most captivating place I have ever been, both visually and spiritually. This garden is a memorial for my beautiful baby cousin, Simone Esperanza Grover with the most radiant cherry tree in its heart.

​As soon as I step off the back porch, the crisp wind of a California evening rushes through my wet hair sending chills down my spine. I follow the cool, slick, grey stones down the short, but particularly windy path towards Simone’s sanctuary. I can rarely make the journey down the path without getting goose bumps and fighting the urge to run as fast as my legs can carry me back into the warm house with my family. As the short hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, I take step after step, and the closer I get, the more peace I find. I close my eyes and inhale through my nose so I can smell the sweetness as I become engulfed in that tiny angel’s presence. She knows that I am here.

​My favorite time to visit Simone is just as the sun is going to bed. Rather than feel the melancholy pull of the evening, the garden comes to life. Deep orange, bright pink, and purple accents paint the sky like an artist paints a canvas, meaningfully and radiantly. With the delicate strokes of an artist’s hand, Simone’s Garden is painted to perfection. There is not a dull sight, only beauty. Each colored plant was chosen intentionally with specific meaning. Purple sweet peas line the entire garden, creating a smell so distinct that I smile as it tickles my nose, and its name comes to mind. During my aunt’s pregnancy with Simone, her baby shower theme was “welcoming this sweet pea into the world”, and everyone planted purple sweet peas for her. When Simone left us, we sent her away with tiny purple flowers.

​Wind whispers secrets of love and life as it rustles the leaves of the garden. With each gust of wind, the garden is an ocean, and I am taken away to a higher place where everything is put into perspective. Why did this happen? Why was the world not blessed with Simone? When my aunt’s water broke, it was just like the two times before, except this time as labor began, Simone’s heart beat stopped. Before even reaching labor, my full-term aunt was told that her baby had died, and she still had to deliver. Visiting Simone in her garden is the closest I will ever be to my infant cousin. When the leaves and flowers move, Simone moves, for Simone is the heart of the garden.

​At the core of Simone’s Garden is simply a cherry tree. After choosing almost immediately to plant their favorite tree for their daughter, my aunt and uncle later learned that cherry trees have an old, deep meaning. Cherry trees represent that life, while beautiful, is tragically short, so when they chose to plantthat particular tree, it had a much deeper meaning than they had initially anticipated. Simone’s placenta lies under the cherry tree, and as it grows, so does Simone. I have never known a plant to evoke such an emotional response, and I have never looked at a tree the way I look at that magnificent plant. It is the most captivatingly beautiful, blush pink and green. Its smooth, glossy petals shine as the sun meets them one last time before setting. A perfect heart for a perfect garden.

​On most visits to Simone’s Garden, I sit on a short, wooden bench that is a frenzy of colors with cool, green, metal accents and soak in the feeling of being near Simone. The bench is not just a place to sit and rest; it is also the canvas for a mural painted by Simone’s siblings and parents. Just to the left of the bench, Simone’s five year old sister has planted a string of pinkand yellow flowers. Bright pink bulbs and tall sun flowers were her contribution to the garden’s beauty. On the right hand side, the garden takes an unexpected twist; I find myself looking down at Easton’s chosen plants. My three year old cousin chose to plant rosemary and mint plants because he believed that Simone would enjoy the “pretty smells”. Herbal plants do not match the theme of light, colorful flowers, but Easton was so sure that his baby sister would adore them just as much as he did. Besides, how do you argue with that? The bench faces the cherry tree about ten feet back. This is where I come most often; I sit and soak up the smells and sights before I begin to update Simone on the world she never got to be a part of.

​Rustling leaves and the tiny feet that scurry along the garden floor let me know I am not alone. Simone is listening. With the inevitable darkness slowly approaching, crawling its way in to cover the world like a blanket, I find peace in a sanctuary. I miss her dearly, even as I never met her beating heart, but this garden, this place, brings solace to my heartbreak, and I am at peace.

​Slowly, I stand from the bench, and as I turn to walk back up the grey, stone path, a single fragrant cherry blossom flies into my hair, now matted and dry from the evening breeze. While a single tear slides down my blushing cheek, I cannot stop the smile that twitches at my lips. I love you.

In loving memory of Simone Esperanza Grover.

Easton

He slides his arm in just the right space, between my neck and the tangles of my hair. And when he can't possibly reach any further, he wraps his two year old arms around me. He then fidgets with my face until he has moved me to just the right angle so our faces smoosh together perfectly. And before he returns to that sleepy rhythmic breath, in a barely audible whisper he says, "Mama, I wuv you so much". I breathe deeply, my heart filled, and I try to soak up every second because, really, this is perfection. I know this sweet boy won't always want to snuggle like this with his mama, but I don't know how long it will last and I want to remember every moment.