Old grief
/I'm nine years and five months away from the last time I held her. Away from the last time I kissed her. Years away from all the firsts without her. Years from the moment the feel of her tiny body in my arms subsided.
Read MoreThis week’s post is a Glow In The Woods kitchen table. Today, we’re sitting together to talk about holidays, how they feel, how we survive them, what we want others to know about them. Pull up a chair. We’ll pour you something to warm your insides and welcome you into the huddle, where all your thoughts - the good, the bad and the ugly - are welcome.
Read MoreAs a teenager, I hated algebra.
I could never wrap my head around the equations,
And the worst part was when I had to
Solve for x.
I am in disbelief.
Do we really have to do this, every year, for the rest of our lives? And then do it all over again, with each holiday that comes up, with each milestone she was robbed of, with each breath she didn't get to take? And again and again, every day, for all of eternity...?
Read MoreThere is a nihilism implicit here, I know. I see it too, lurking behind my snarky objections and passive-aggressive stance towards the constant self-improvement and self-branding in workplaces these days. What is the point of setting goals? What is the point of organization and preparation; collecting glass bottles and like-new fuzzy pajamas with feet if the baby - well, you know the story by now. What is the point of anything at all? As soon as you have set out your plans in neat, bulleted lists, a pandemic hits, the laws change, a storm floods your city, the power is knocked out for three days.
Read MoreParenting your dead child is like painting by numbers but there are no numbers to paint by. All the rules and directions have been lost. How does one know what color comes next? What is the image we are trying to complete when the baby we grew, died? We are left guessing. What would their favorite color be? Is purple supposed to fill in this space? What about green?
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.
: for one and all
: ttc | pregnancy | birth after loss
: not ttc | infertility after loss
: parenting after loss
: on the bookshelf
: how to stop lactation when there is no baby
: how to help a friend through babyloss
: how to plan a baby's funeral
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