And so I folded back the meticulously knitted arms – barely bigger than my thumb – and tucked under the hood with the twin minute functional drawstrings. And I gingerly placed that little woolen packet of broken-hearted yearning in a barren drawer in our vacant nursery, praying I’d have reason, someday, to take it out again.
Read MoreThe thing about skateboarding is, you can master almost any trick with a combination of repetition and fearlessness. Having nothing to lose is also a good substitute for fearlessness. Or maybe it’s the same thing.
Read MoreWhen the wave crashes, I’m assaulted with memories—images of the hospital, my little boy covered in wires and unmoving, giving the funeral director the outfit we wanted him to be cremated in. As the wave is crashing down, it seems unlikely that I’ll ever be able to surface again, with the water pounding down on my head.
Read MoreYou can’t imagine what will come after your life is seized by the reality that your child is dead. You don’t know the pain will get worse. You don’t know how dark the nights will be between the hours of 1am and 4am, when your rational self will be taken over by an imposter who imagines all the ways that you and everyone you love is going to die.
Read MoreIt’s our turn now to set the table, put the tea and coffee on, and invite you to pull up a chair. At this kitchen table, you can tell your story if you want, or just listen. Here, your grief is welcome, in all its variations, its beauty and ugliness, love and anger, hope and bitterness. Here, you’re not alone. We’re so glad you found us.
Read MoreI wanted to remember what I felt when the nurse placed him in my arms for those short few minutes after giving birth. I wanted to remember how smooth his skin was and how soft his hair felt under my fingers when I would gently rub his head. I wanted to remember his eyes and how much he already looked like his daddy. I wanted to remember the happiness I felt to be his mother.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
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: parenting after loss
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: how to help a friend through babyloss
: how to plan a baby's funeral
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