Wednesday, August 4, 2010

When I lost Faith, the nurse asked if she could take some photos of her for us. My first reaction was a sense of confusion. Why? When we think of photos especially of our babies' first photo, we certainly don't think of them being forever sleeping. I don't know how she convinced us to let her, but I am so grateful- indebted to her for giving me the the most priceless possession I have. When you are a mom of an angel, you can't watch them as they race through life accomplishing milestones like their first bath, first smile, first Christmas, first steps, first day of school...All we have is their first and last moment they will ever have on this Earth.
I have to admit I was very guarded with Faith's pictures in the beginning, only sharing them with my closest friends and family. Of course, she looked beautiful to me, but I wondered what they looked like to others. Did they see death or did they see the beauty that I see when I look at them? We find ourselves learning to become a proud mother to an angel- finding the strength and courage to proudly show off our precious children to anyone that will look. The fact is we carry them for 9 months and in the end we have the post pregnancy body, milk flowing, hormones raging, and no reward to show off to the world. We don't have a baby in our arms for people to ooo and ahh over. Where is our proud possession? Where is the proof that we carried this beautiful child for 9 months? Our proof is our pictures. Without them the world would never have to acknowledge that they existed. the truth is the closest of our friends and family won't even say their name. Most of the time the only time our children's names are said is inside their mother's head. BECAUSE we learn quickly within a few months into our grieving that people don't like us to say their name. As mothers we need to hear their names said. We will never call our child's name across a room full of children and have a child turn and answer, "yes, mommy?" We will never have them holding our hand in the store as we see an old friend that will then comment on how much they have grown. ALL we have is their photo to share. ALL we have are the memories of the first and last moments locked inside our heads. The fact is I have to surround myself with Faith's pictures in order to survive this hell life has dealt me. If her photo brings anyone heartache- I am so sorry that you can't see the beauty that I see. If you think me showing her photos is prolonging my "healing" process, sorry to break this to you, but you don't heal from losing a child. You learn to live again with a huge gapping hole in your heart. I was so hurt to find out that what I often think is some people's opinion is true- they think I am strange for posting a pic of my baby girl on FB. A person that I thought was a friend asked a friend why I felt the need to post Faith's picture all the time...She thinks that haivng her picture out would make it harder for me. To me that is her way of saying that she doesn't like the constant reminder of my dead child. Well, hop inside my head for a few hours and take a ride on the grief train...You can't jump off when you are tired of the ride. It takes you where it wants you to go, so posting pictures or not posting pictures will not lessen my pain. It might lessen your discomfort from my constant reminding you of my dead child, but I don't care. Maybe it would help you to learn to appreciate that you don't have the pain of not having one of your children in your life. I can't stand the selfishness of the people in this world. Please, know you are not immune to losing a child. If you lost a child at 5, would I think you were strange for having a picture of them posted- no...It just so happens that I wasn't lucky enough to have Faith living; therefore, I am only blessed with pictures of her forever sleeping. I did not lose a pregnancy, I lost a child. A forever sleeping child that is beautiful, and I will continue to share her with the world.

1 comment:

  1. This is the first I've seen your blog. But my first daughter was stillborn. (She would be five this Halloween.) And all of your feelings resonate with me. I am so sorry for your pain. But, as your saying, I believe we grieve and remember our children forever. And the love and pain are in interplay constantly. People don't like to hear their names, it's true and it's heartbreaking. I am so sorry.

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