Ever since I first became pregnant with my son, and especially since he was born, I have carried this fear with me. I know it's only August but at the end of every year I try to think back to what the main themes were and I hate to say it, but I feel like fear is one for me this year. I am just so afraid of something bad happening to my son, more specifically it's like I'm constantly afraid that he's suddenly going to die. Aiden died, babies die. I know, I've seen it myself. So who's to say that it couldn't happen to Jack? Every little stuffy nose, every trip to daycare, is somehow a risk for death.
My logical mind says this is ridiculous. And I think that to a degree most new parents experience it as well. But I can't help but feel that my experience has played a bit different of a part in how I process daily life with my little one. More "innocent" mothers seem to carry on with their lives ignorant of all the risks and possible bad outcomes, and I find myself wishing I could be more like them. I struggle daily to shake the fear and trust a bit more that good things are wanted for me and for Jack. I don't want this fear to become a wedge in my life. But it's just so hard to trust.
There is a song by Newsboys on Christian Radio lately that repeats the verse "You give and take away" as a bit of an anthem. I can't stand it, and just for that verse. I know there is biblical precedent, and I know I'm interpreting this in a rather narrow-minded manner, but for me it smacks of God being an Indian-giver. I don't want Him to take Jack away, just like I didn't want Him to take Aiden away. I've experienced enough of the "take away" thank you very much!
I think you get the idea of the circular path my thoughts have been taking lately. I want to shake the fear, I don't like the burden it brings, but to get rid of it I know I have to trust, and in my perspective my trust has already been seriously betrayed.
I seem to turn a blind eye to the "giving" side of the equation, and the fact that I have been given this incredible gift. Every morning when I cuddle my son, pretending to hide from my husband who takes Jack off to daycare, I'm amazed at just how much I have. Every moment is precious. That is one lesson I'm not likely to forget. I wonder how much more fraught this path must be for parents who have lost their own children, and who later welcome rainbow babies.
Maybe some of this is about building a stronger trust than I had before, one day, after the struggle has had more time to do its work. For now it is a constant challenge.
In two weeks my brother is flying east and will be meeting Jack for the very first time. How precious that time will be, I can't wait. While he's here I'm hoping to talk to him about an idea I've had about holding a Memorial Service for Aiden. I've read about other families who have a service on anniversaries or even just on a special occasion. We had a small ceremony for Aiden the week that he passed, but it was such a blur. Carrying Aiden's memory is something that brings me a lot of peace. I know that many people not directly in our circle don't understand that, and still see babyloss as a taboo subject, but some of these Memorial Services seem so beautiful and they're really a thing of support and remembrance. How wonderful that would be to add to our memory books. Definitely better than dwelling in fear.
August 22, 2011
July 8, 2011
Numbers :)
76 Teddy Bear Tins have been delivered to 2 hospitals
43 more completed tins are being picked up by the hospital in the next few days
9 volunteers currently have kits and are painting an additional 64 tins
2 more volunteers have offered their time once I have more kits available
I'm planning to add 1 more hospital in the near future, which will mean that Teddy Bear Tins are provided to hospitals in 3 different states
We're going through tins so quickly I only have 5 more blanks left before I need to place another order
...All of this adds up to an immeasurable benefit that has been provided by the many kind people who have made Teddy Bear Tins a success
Lately when I think of Aiden I often quickly think of Teddy Bear Tins as well, and it makes me smile because this little idea has become a reality. I guess in a way to me it helps because as the time passes and I feel further away from the reality of holding him in that hospital room, I have something else very tangible that is a part of his memory as well.
1 dining room that has been taken over for another purpose.... :-P
43 more completed tins are being picked up by the hospital in the next few days
9 volunteers currently have kits and are painting an additional 64 tins
2 more volunteers have offered their time once I have more kits available
I'm planning to add 1 more hospital in the near future, which will mean that Teddy Bear Tins are provided to hospitals in 3 different states
We're going through tins so quickly I only have 5 more blanks left before I need to place another order
...All of this adds up to an immeasurable benefit that has been provided by the many kind people who have made Teddy Bear Tins a success
Lately when I think of Aiden I often quickly think of Teddy Bear Tins as well, and it makes me smile because this little idea has become a reality. I guess in a way to me it helps because as the time passes and I feel further away from the reality of holding him in that hospital room, I have something else very tangible that is a part of his memory as well.
1 dining room that has been taken over for another purpose.... :-P
June 5, 2011
Teddy Bear Tins turns 2!
On June 5, 2009 I painted my first Teddy Bear Tin. It had been 4 and a half months since the day Aiden died and was born.
Today it is two years since that first tin. As of the end of this month more than 100 tins will have been provided to hospitals in two states, and dozens of volunteers literally all across the globe have shown their generosity by sharing of their time and talents.
I think having my own son now only makes me more aware of the physical ache that bereaved parents feel for their little ones. When I was visiting my brother halfway across the country a few weeks ago I had the chance to once again “visit” Aiden. I got to touch the box that holds his ashes. It struck me that even more than two years since he passed away, I still have the urge to want to just hold him and touch him. At my home I have a piece of cardstock that the hospital gave us with Aiden’s footprints stamped on them. Occasionally when I’m opening the safe to look for a passport or other important document, I’ll see the card and just hold it for a few minutes. Aiden’s feet touched that piece of paper, and today that’s the closest I can get to once again feeling him. I wonder if my son will ever question why his mom so fiercely insists on kissing his little hands, feet, ears, cheeks, nose AND forehead before he heads off to daycare in the morning?
Teddy Bear Tins provide not only a visual memory, but they are also something that parents and families can touch when they ache so much for their precious little ones. A foot or hand imprint to bring them some measure of peace, to give them something physical to hold on to.
This effort is extremely important, and the benefit that it provides to bereaved families is very profound. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to support Teddy Bear Tins. What an incredible thing you have all made possible!
Today it is two years since that first tin. As of the end of this month more than 100 tins will have been provided to hospitals in two states, and dozens of volunteers literally all across the globe have shown their generosity by sharing of their time and talents.
I think having my own son now only makes me more aware of the physical ache that bereaved parents feel for their little ones. When I was visiting my brother halfway across the country a few weeks ago I had the chance to once again “visit” Aiden. I got to touch the box that holds his ashes. It struck me that even more than two years since he passed away, I still have the urge to want to just hold him and touch him. At my home I have a piece of cardstock that the hospital gave us with Aiden’s footprints stamped on them. Occasionally when I’m opening the safe to look for a passport or other important document, I’ll see the card and just hold it for a few minutes. Aiden’s feet touched that piece of paper, and today that’s the closest I can get to once again feeling him. I wonder if my son will ever question why his mom so fiercely insists on kissing his little hands, feet, ears, cheeks, nose AND forehead before he heads off to daycare in the morning?
Teddy Bear Tins provide not only a visual memory, but they are also something that parents and families can touch when they ache so much for their precious little ones. A foot or hand imprint to bring them some measure of peace, to give them something physical to hold on to.
This effort is extremely important, and the benefit that it provides to bereaved families is very profound. Thank you, thank you, thank you for continuing to support Teddy Bear Tins. What an incredible thing you have all made possible!
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