Advice

I saw this article on Grief Digest Magazine (online) and wanted to share it.  It's a great resource for articles and information from the bereavement community.  You can click on the link to take you directly to the article or read it below.


ADVICE
February 23, 2012

By Andrea Gambill

Advice is like breath; everyone has some, but sometimes it isn’t pleasant!

…and, it’s pretty much worth what you pay for it—most of the time.

Probably nobody gets as much unsolicited advice as the bereaved. It comes in like an avalanche—especially in the early days of grief. What always amazes me is how firm-with-confidence it is when it comes from those who have never had a similar experience. It is almost always liberally spiced with “you should…,” or “you shouldn’t…”; “you need to…,” or “you must never….” Or even, “I bet you wish…”  Then there’s the ubiquitous, “If I were you…” And the virtually unforgivable, “Why didn’t you…?” Unwelcome advice is like sandpaper on the soul. It hurts, and it does no good at all.

It’s almost always well intended, but it’s usually born out of frustration on the part of the donor. Our wannabe-comforters are completely baffled by us, and they are overwhelmed by our pain. If that sounds a bit too “forgiving,” try to remember back to before you were bereaved and how you felt when you encountered someone who had just experienced a devastating loss. I know I’d love to get back some of the words that spilled out of my never-to-be-silent mouth!

I know a lady who never has a clue. If I say I have a headache, she will say, “Why don’t you take an aspirin?” I want to reply (loudly), “Gee, I wish I’d thought of that!” People don’t mean to be stupid, but they are often flailing around in the deep end of the pool when they can’t swim. They need some education—given graciously and with patience—because, “a teaspoon of sugar helps the medicine go down…,” But “teaching” and exercising patience can be tall orders for the wounded who are already suffering a pain that is beyond describing!

But, wait a minute! It’s not all bad news. Sometimes, there is great advice swirling around out there if we can just let our hearts be quiet for a minute and learn how to sift and sort. There are still souls who are tender-hearted , compassionate and wise beyond the obvious. Before we throw the baby out with the bath water, let’s do a little testing. Let’s consider who is giving the advice. Is it from someone we have always considered wise and trustworthy? Is it someone we truly care about—perhaps even admire? Is the counsel coming from the heart or the head of this person? Does s/he really genuinely care, or is it just an attempt to impress you with their great wisdom? Is this someone who has your future and your soul at the top of their prayer list, or is it someone who wants to exert power and control (even if they don’t realize their own motive)?

In other words, let’s take a deep breath and try to be discerning. After all, we can’t lose anything—except maybe something (or someone) we really didn’t need anyway. We may be bereaved and in deep pain, but we have not lost our own prerogative to choose our own paths and decisions carefully.

“Caring is comforting, but advice may not be. If caring is coming from a deep and sincere place in the heart, it can’t fail. If it’s just an obligatory duty, or a quest for power and control, it can’t succeed.”

This is only one of the reasons support groups and grief literature (like Grief Digest) can be so helpful. Since advice is an issue that bereaved people have all endured, many different responses to it have been learned and shared. Maybe each of us can edit some of those responses with small personal revisions that will help. You get the idea, “Two heads are better than one.”

By Andrea Gambill 

When You Lose a Baby

I saw this article, When you lose a baby, written by Franchesca Cox at Small Bird Studios and just had to share.  Most of it rings true for me and I'm sure it will for you too.  It has been over 3 years since our daughter was born it's amazing how she is "overlooked" by so many.  No one brings her name up anymore.  Grief transforms over time.

Helping Your Relationship Survive Loss

I wanted to share this article with you.  I hope it gives you a few ideas for strengthening your relationship despite the stresses of grief.

Trial by Fire - 9 Tips for Grieving Couples 

by Lisa Church

You will often hear that grief and loss bring couples together, but it can actually do just the opposite. It is possible to emerge on the other side of grief with a closer marriage, but it does take work.

Here are some tips adapted from the book "Hope is Like the Sun: Finding Hope and Healing After Miscarriage, Stillbirth or Infant Death" that can help your marriage survive the stress of loss:

1. Give each other the freedom to grieve in an individual way.
Resist the temptation to feel that your way is the only way to handle loss. Do not be fooled if it seems that your spouse has not been affected by the loss.

2. Remember the good times.
Think about activities you enjoy as a couple and make time to do them- even if you do not feel up to it yet.

3. Expect tough times.
Be tolerant with your mate and understand that you are both going to fail each other during this turbulent time.

4. Do not lash out at one another.
In a weakened state of grief, this will only push you apart. Find constructive ways to release the stress and anger of grief.

5. Prepare for change.
Loss and grief change people and it will change the face of your marriage. Decide together that this trial will bring you closer and commit to your relationship.

6. Reach out.
Resist the urge to spend time away from your mate or reach out to others who better understand your grief.

7. Avoid placing blame.
Tossing accusations at your spouse will only place a wedge in your relationship. Understand that feelings of guilt, anger, and confusion are normal during this time.

8. Love each other.
Be sure to offer the hugs, cuddling, and love that each partner needs to feel secure and supported. Be sure to resume your physical relationship as soon as possible.

9. Seek information and support.
Educate yourselves on grief and try to understand one another. If you are having difficulties resolving your grief as a couple and you feel your marriage is in trouble, get help immediately! Do not wait until it is too late to seek help.

There are no easy answers for couples dealing with pregnancy loss. It is crucial that you make the decision to put your marriage first and then do it!

Hope is Like the Sun: Finding Hope and Healing After Miscarriage, Stillbirth, or Infant Death is available online at http://www.HopeXchange.com, Amazon.com and Barnes&Noble.com or by calling HopeXchange Publishing at 757-826-2162.

Lisa Church is author of "Hope is Like the Sun: Finding Hope and Healing After Miscarriage, Stillbirth or Infant Death" and founder of HopeXchange, a company dedicated to helping women and their families facing miscarriage.

Article Source: http://ezinearticles.com

After infant loss, when should we try again?

I saw this article on Examiner.com and thought it was interesting.  I know everyone has their own time table, and this can be a sensitive subject.  I think the important thing is knowing if you want to try again, and if so, waiting until you feel ready.  That can be very different for each person.  However, I thought I'd post this article and see what you thought.  

 After infant loss, when should we try again?

by Carol A. Ranney

Whether you have suffered a miscarriage, stillbirth, or an infant death, often your first impulse is to try again.  The loss of your baby has left a huge vacuum, and there is nothing that will fill it and relieve the terrible aching emptiness.  The only possibly comforting thought is to be pregnant again, to feel once again the anticipation of another precious baby in your arms.

Grieving is not only very hard work, it is terribly painful.  To face again each day the absence of someone you loved with your whole being, to try and work through the questions, the anger, confusion, sadness and weariness of grief, to endure the gnawing vacuum inside you that constantly cries out for relief, is agonizing work.  As easily as water runs downhill, your thoughts go to another baby, another pregnancy, and some relief from constant sorrow. A friend who became pregnant not long after her toddler died said to me, “It feels so good to be happy again.”

However, grief will not be dismissed.  It has integrated itself into your life, and will not be satisfied until you have completely worked through it and emerged from the other side, a changed person.  There are no shortcuts through grief, as tempting as the illusion might seem.  The choice to have a child too soon after the death of another one may also be motivated not so much by the desire for another child as the longing to fill that empty hole in your hearts.

You are grieving a unique, never-to-be replicated child.  Even though you may never have had the chance to look into his or her face, your dreams were whole and complete, for this child and all he or she would become.  When you have had an early miscarriage, you mourn the loss of your “dream child,” the one you envisioned, dreamed about, imagined a relationship with, and gave your whole heart to.  Perhaps others did not yet know you were pregnant, and there will be a deep loneliness in mourning your loss.

If you have had a stillborn child or have lost an infant, you mourn the loss of the brief time you had, the moments of memory as well as all the future dreams, hopes and plans.  Because this child was not known by many others, those around you will likely expect you to recover as rapidly emotionally as you do physically.  A friend said to me once of a young woman who had had a stillborn child a week before, “She’s doing much better now, I think she’s come to terms with it.”

A week, however, is not even long enough to get past the shock and begin to comprehend what has happened.  Many weeks will pass before the full impact of the loss will be felt, and by that time, most people will have forgotten or assume that you have "moved past it."  Grieving a pre-born infant is a lonely experience, and it is important to get all the support you can, to affirm your right to grieve as well as to walk through it with you.

While a pregnancy, or thoughts of a pregnancy, seem so comforting and hopeful during this time, the reality is that you will never again experience the innocent excitement and anticipation of your earlier pregnancy.  You now know the truth:  not all pregnancies go to term, and there is no guarantee with any pregnancy.  To deal with this reality is hard enough without struggling with mourning your loss at the same time.

You also may be stricken with guilt if you become pregnant again too soon.  Many people experience the regret of not having given their deceased child his or her own time to be remembered, mourned, and memorialized, and feel that a subsequent pregnancy is a betrayal of their child who died.  Another problem that arises with a pregnancy too soon after loss is the constant fear of losing the new pregnancy, and along with that, a fear of bonding fully with the expected baby, knowing the pain ahead if this pregnancy, too, is lost.  These feelings may persist even after the new baby arrives safely.

Counseling can be very helpful after loss, as you begin to think about trying again.  Having someone to talk through the experience with, whether a grief counselor, your obstetrician or midwife, or a trusted friend, can help to clarify your thoughts and feelings and help you understand where you are in the grief process and whether or not you are ready.  Some people decide to designate the first year as a year of mourning their deceased child.  This may be too long for you, or not long enough.  

A medical opinion is also important.  Trying again too soon, before the woman's body has had time to adjust and heal, can jeopardize a future pregnancy.  You circumstances and cause of loss need to be thoroughly understood before making this life-changing decision.

There is no one answer to when it is time to try again.  Your situation is as unique as you and the child you lost.  Everyone grieves differently, and at a different pace.  Give yourself adequate time to fully experience your grief and comprehend your loss, and to come to a degree of peace with it.  Wait until you can anticipate a new baby with minimal fear, and even though you are now aware of the risks of loving and the pain of losing, with real joy at the thought of a new baby.

Surprising Facts About SADS (Unexplained Stillbirth)

I saw these facts about stillbirth information on the website Still No More.  I wanted to share them with you all.  It is truly amazing that there isn't more research done to find the cause of SADS (Unexplained Stillbirth).  This information was taken directly from their website.....

SURPRISING FACTS ABOUT S.A.D.S.  

 

We’ve all heard about SIDS – the sudden unexplained deaths of babies in their cribs that occur for no determinable medical reason. And yet fifteen times as many babies die due to SADS - sudden antenatal death syndrome - about which little is written or spoken.

On average there are over 2,000 SIDS deaths in the United States every year. Stillbirth deaths number close to 30,000 babies.

Stillbirth is the death of a baby in its mother’s womb, after 20 weeks gestational age and up to the moment of delivery, which is when many babies die…. at the “finish line”!

Stillbirth is unpredictable and random. It often strikes like lightening in a thunderstorm. There is no way to know when or where it will strike next. The reason is one-half to two-thirds of stillbirths occur for indeterminable reasons. They are the ones that cannot be attributed to a specific identifiable medical cause. And yet there must be one. These babies, like grown ups, don't die for no reason. We just need to find the reason!

Because of its randomness, and the lack of any warning, stillbirth, can be said to be "An Equal Opportunity Destroyer of Dreams". It cuts across socio-economic classes, races, body types, religions, and maternal age groups. No woman is immune from stillbirth.

Even women who have had successful prior births can suffer a stillbirth loss.

That so many stillbirths occur at or near late term - when the developing baby is well beyond the point of viability and could survive outside the womb - is devastating.

Autopsies, when performed, rarely uncover any cause of stillbirth not already apparent from a physical examination of the baby and placenta.

There is no uniform stillbirth post-mortem (autopsy) protocol in use today anywhere in the United States. Every autopsy is done according to local practice. Because of that fact there is no uniform data available for analysis.

When a post-mortem procedure is performed, it is rare for the mother to be interviewed, this in spite of the fact she may have vital clues to her baby's cause of death. A uniform protocol would address this shortcoming among other things.

There is no centralized repository for autopsy data. If there were it would make analysis and comparison of findings possible. Imagine the chaos that would reign if police kept fingerprint cards in each department's file cabinet. Crimes would never be solved, just as stillbirth isn't being solved because the data - when autopsies are performed - is not made available to researchers but kept at each hospital, if it is saved at all.

The practice of “counting kicks” – fetal movements – is a low-tech test women can do at home on a regular daily basis. By monitoring her baby’s rate of activity she can identify any sudden change and immediately have her baby evaluated. Sudden changes can be a sign your baby is in distress. The National Stillbirth Society, in cooperation with Dr. Jason Collins, founder of The Pregnancy Institute, has a pamphlet entitled "Kicks Count". It's available for download free of charge at www.protectyourpregnancy.com.

Another sign of possible fetal distress - other than a change in the frequency or intensity of fetal movements - is hiccups. Hiccups often accompany cases of cord compression. A pregnant woman who becomes aware of her baby having multiple episodes of hiccups lasting 10 minutes or more should have an ultrasound examination of baby's umbilical cord for any indication of compression or entanglement.

There is virtually nothing a woman can do - or not do - that can cause the intentional or accidental stillbirth of a baby in late term. "Substance abuse", if engaged in, typically causes miscarriages early in the pregnancy, but not late term stillbirths. ("Substance abuse" can cause birth defects, however, and for that reason should always be avoided.)

Late term stillbirths remain a case of "natal roulette", played by nature, and is as deadly as the well-known "Russian Roulette". All a mother can do is be on the alert for - and act on - any symptoms of fetal distress and have regular stress tests. The National Stillbirth Society has posted a Preferred Pregnancy Management Protocol provided by Dr. Collins of The Pregnancy Institute. Few insurance plans cover all of the recommended testing listed in this protocol but mothers-to-be may want to come out of pocket themselves just so they can have benefit of the added level of monitoring. The protocol can be found at www.protectyourpregnancy.com.

Mothers wishing to exercise an abundance of caution can investigate the availability of night-time fetal heartbeat monitoring via the Internet. A relatively recent procedure it is available through The Pregnancy Institute founded by Dr. Collins. A "white paper" explaining the procedure can be found atwww.protectyourpregnancy.com.

One in every 115 deliveries is a dead baby. If deliveries were aircraft landings, Phoenix Sky Harbor airport, with about 700 landings daily, would have 6 fatal crashes every day. How long does one think the FAA would allow that to continue? Twenty-four hours? And yet as a nation we tolerate 80 pregnancies on average "crashing" daily in the U. S.

Until all causes of stillbirth are identified there can be no cure. Until there is a cure, there can be no peace of mind for pregnant women. Babies will continue to be vulnerable to "reproductive roulette", where the majority is lucky...... but 30,000 a year aren't.

Grieving on Father's Day

I saw this great article on examiner (dot) com about Father's Day and Grief.  I wanted to share it with you.  Pass it on to all the bereaved father's and let them know that you are thinking of them and haven't forgotten their pain.

Grieving on Father's Day

By Carol A Ranney

Fathers are often referred to as the hidden grievers.  When a child dies, thoughts generally go to the mothers—the agony they most certainly are suffering, their loneliness, emptiness, now that someone who was once a part of them is gone.  Women tend to grieve outwardly, talking to their friends, crying, seeking out supportive groups and friends to be with and with whom to share their burden of sorrow.

Men, on the other hand, have a much more inward grieving style.  Men are usually more factual than emotional.  They accept more readily that nothing they say or do will reverse the situation; their child is irrecoverably gone from this earth.  They may weep at times, but that is not their primary mode of mourning.  A man may throw himself into his job with fervor, perhaps to help alleviate the feeling that as the “family protector,” he has failed to keep each member safe.  He may begin or continue a project, or start a new activity, in memory of his loved one, to whom he dedicates his efforts.  

Men are more concrete in their thinking, but that does not mean they grieve less.  What it often does mean is that they get less emotional support; people see them return to work, keep busy at home, and assume “they’re over it.”  Little do others realize that men agonize through their grief and mourning fully as much as women, and appreciate just as much the caring word, the hug, a recalled memory, a shared moment of silence.

Perhaps the best gift you could ever give a grieving father on Father’s Day is the recognition of his loss, and affirming him as a father in mourning.  A book especially for men in grief; a card recognizing that he is missing one of those who made him a father, yet he is still a father;  a gift in memory of his child; or simply a hug, an arm around the shoulder, or a compassionate word will assure him that although he does not grieve outwardly much, those who truly care about him have not forgotten.
 


For Dads of any age or stage in life, who have suffered loss:

Books:
A Grief Observed  by C.S. Lewis.  The writer’s journal following the death of his beloved wife, as he struggled to hold onto his faith.  A meaningful book after any loss.  (Bantam Doubleday Dell, 1976, $11.99)

Anna: A Daughter’s Life by William Loizeaux.  A father’s story of the loss of his infant daughter.  (Arcade Pub., New York, 1993.  $19.95)

Heaven by Randy Alcorn.  What will heaven really be like?  Picture heaven as Scripture describes it—bright, vibrant, physical, free from suffering and sin, brimming with Christ’s presence, wonderous beauty, and the richness of human culture as God intended.  (Tyndale House Publishers, 2004, $24.99)

Shattered Dreams, God’s Unexpected Pathway to Joy by Larry Crabb.  An excellent book when questions are unanswered and God “doesn’t make sense.”  (Waterbrook Press, 2002.  $13.99)

When There Are No Words: Finding Your Way to Cope with Loss and Grief by Charlie Walton.  “…a conversation between a sensitive, articulate victim of sudden, tragic loss and any person struggling to endure the numbing first hours and weeks of a life catastrophe.”  From the back cover.  Highly recommended. (Pathfinder Pub., 1996, $12.95)

When Good-Bye is Forever:  Learning to Live Again After the Loss of a Child A Bereaved Father’s Inspiring Guide to Overcoming Tragedy by John Bramblett.  Guilt, sorting out your feelings toward a responsible third party, marriage survival from a dad’s perspective.  (Ballentine Books, 1991)  Out of print; available through Amazon Used Books

A Grace Disguised  by Gerald Sittser.  On a family trip, the Sittser’s van was struck by a drunk driver, and in a moment’s time he lost his wife, four year old daughter, and mother, leaving him a single parent to his three surviving children.  This book tells of his long journey through grief to healing.  (Zondervan Press, 1998, paperback, $9.99)  Also available in Spanish.

Lament for a Son  by Nicholas Wolterstorff.  A son was killed in a climbing accident in 1986.  This short book is highly recommended by almost everyone who reads it.  (Eerdmans Publishing, 1987, $12.00) 

Swallowed by a Snake:  The Gift of the Masculine Side of Healing by Thomas Golden.  Powerful ways to heal, how the genders differ in their healing, and how loss impacts the entire family.  (Golden Healing Publishers, 2000, $13.95)  

Grieving the Unexpected:  The Suicide of a Son by Dr. Gary Leblanc.
Dr. LeBlanc openly discusses his family’s struggle to survive such a dreadful event, the variables that sustained them during the initial shock and the healing process that enabled them to commence their journey towards wholeness. (Essence Publishing, 2003, $8.95)

When a Man Faces Grief/A Man You Know is Grieving  by James E. Miller, Willowgreen Publishing; 1998, $6.95.  Two books in one. One half is for men who are grieving, with 12 helpful suggestions, each a chapter by itself. The other half is for those who want to understand and help men who are grieving, also in twelve short, helpful chapters.  (Willowgreen, $6.95)

Websites for Men:
Crisis, Grief and Healing  Tom Golden’s website dealing with men’s grief.  Offers a message board, chat room, articles, book excerpts, book ordering information and more.  Tom Golden is recognized as the foremost authority on men and grief.

Lamenting Sons: Fathers and Grief    
This site is full of information and links for men who have suffered the loss of a child. 

Music/DVD:
Songs of Hope & Healing and Songs of Inspiration - Eric Gnezda
Two CD collections of songs of loss, comfort and solace.  The second one includes Blossoms Of Hope, an anthem of triumph and survivorship for those facing adversity and loss.  $10.00 ea. 

Getting Through It:  Music and Words to Help You with your Loss  Various artists.  Songs include Walking Through the Fire, Band of Angels, By and By, Amazing Grace, Part of My Life, and Tears in Heaven. $14.95 + s&h  
 
At Water’s Edge
DVD. Relax to the Peace of Nature and the Power of Music. A stress managment tool kit. A beautiful composition of real-time scenes in nature, each captured at the side of a lake, a pond, a mountain stream or the ocean. The viewer is visually drawn into the picture as though actually sitting outside along the water's edge. Experience being at the threshold of a peaceful and calming place.  $19.95.

Newsletter:

Broken Hearts, Living Hope, free monthly newsletter published in Tigard, OR and distributed to families worldwide for families who have suffered the loss of a child.

Trilogy of Hope

I loved this article and wanted to share it with you.  It's from Grief Digest Magazine.  Enjoy!

Trilogy of Hope

8 JUNE 2011

By Sheila Swedlow

The belief that things come in multiples of three appears to be true. How often have we encountered three births or three weddings or three deaths within a not-too-distant time frame? Three such extraordinary similarities have come to me at a time in my life when I deeply needed affirmation and comfort. Through the rippling effect of these experiences, I have been awakened to miraculous and inspiring possibilities!

Life became meaningless and empty when my daughter, Bari, died. Struggling to keep myself together, I navigated blindly into my new world of grief—a place I did not want to be! During that time of despair, I explored and pursued the unknown, where I learned the magical mysticism that an evolution of caterpillar and butterfly can interconnect the oneness of life. A difficult and foreign concept for the human mind to comprehend is that God can send signs and messages in such different forms, at such different times and in such different ways. The chronicled trilogy of my encounters has led me to wonder and hope and to enter a world of new meanings. Can anyone question that which has no answer?

The first of these occurrences began on Mother’s Day, 2009, only one month after Bari passed away on April 6—the exact day I became half the person I now am—the day a crater crashed through my heart, crushing my chest, leaving me without air or purpose and without meaning to life. In an unwelcome way, Mother’s Day had presented itself, rekindling my torturous wound. It smothered my soul and re-cemented my overwhelming grief.

My grandson, Benjamin, had stayed with me that “first” Mother’s Day, and he was  a witness to the beautiful, inspiring message that neither of us will ever forget.  As I opened the sliding-glass door in my kitchen, I was dumbstruck, motionless, wide-eyed, open-jawed. Pausing as closely as arm’s length for almost a full minute, was a beautiful, brightly colored Monarch butterfly, flapping its wings as if waving hello, and saying, “Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.”

Benjamin and I remained immobile and transfixed. Prior to this event, no butterfly had ever appeared (or was ever seen by us again) that entire year. It happened only on this one, special Mother’s Day. An inexplicable and powerful experience had occurred, and words can never adequately describe the power of that moment. Yet, the depth of that sensation was only the beginning of other miracles that would follow. How I needed that evidence that possibilities of the unknown do exist, and we are never far apart from those we love.

Almost a year passed before the second of the connection of threes was realized. Living two blocks from the beach, my husband and I had decided to have a bench placed on the boardwalk in memory of our daughter. Much thought had been given to the exact location, for everything had to be just perfect. We selected a place with a full view of the blue ocean, unhindered by the dunes. It was close in proximity to the beach club that Bari had enjoyed every summer, and with a view of the Atlantic Beach Bridge that she often walked as she traveled to and from her job.

Somberly and reverently, we read the touching inscription that began, “Our Beautiful Ray of Sunshine…” when we suddenly noticed a tiny, bright orange ladybug resting on the top slat of the bench, as if it had been waiting for us to arrive. With tears on his cheeks, my husband exclaimed, “I don’t believe in these things, yet it’s almost as if Bari is sending a message that she’s happy with what we have done.”

Our fingers traced the words of the plaque as we bade goodbye to our daughter, and the small, brilliant ladybug seemed to quietly fly away. As we pensively walked to our car, we were completely unaware that the ladybug was following us, and when Dick started the ignition, she flew in through the car window! We were startled and mesmerized, because never before had a ladybug entered our car! We had first noticed her on the bench and then on our dashboard; it was almost as if she wanted to stay with us just a little bit longer. Several long seconds passed before she flew away again, and all we could do was shake our heads and wonder. Could this tiny messenger possibly be another sign, triggering the possibility that, although separated from the physical world, Bari is still with us? Today I travel a new path of enlightenment, because what I saw was more to me than just a ladybug; I believe it was a strong testament to our daughter’s continued presence.

The last third of my amazing trilogy happened more recently, just several months ago. It was a warm, July day, and Dick and I were standing on our driveway. Hovering above the hood of my car was another large, Monarch butterfly. Since I had seen several over the summer I was not surprised, but this one was quite different. It flew near us, around our heads, close to our faces. And then suddenly, almost as if guided by a higher force, the fragile creature rested herself on my shoulder, not very far from my heart. Dick and I remained motionless, afraid that the slightest movement might cause her to fly away. If it had been possible, I would have preserved those seconds forever, but the butterfly eventually floated to the sky above, while I prayed that it was Bari sending me another miraculous message of her love. Sometimes ordinary mornings can lead to extraordinary days.

These three occurrences, truly profound in content, verify my belief that special events can connect, and that they can come in threes. Less skeptical than I used to be, I now am comforted to know that there is far more to heaven and earth than the human mind can comprehend. I have been given a gift that some may not have received, and I am armed with a new insight that has led to a spiritual awakening and gives evidence that cries out, “There is life after physical lives end, and we are connected in mysterious and wonderful ways.”

The butterflies and the ladybug have inspired me to wonder, and they have helped me to smile again. They have deepened the infinite power of Bari’s everlasting love. Though my heart is far from healed, and a gaping hole remains that often shields life’s beauty and sometimes stifles my joy, that which I have experienced is proof to me of a world beyond that we do not completely know.

Myths About Grief

Myths and Facts About Grief

MYTH: The pain will go away faster if you ignore it.

Fact: Trying to ignore your pain or keep it from surfacing will only make it worse in the long run. For real healing it is necessary to face your grief and actively deal with it.

MYTH: It’s important to be “be strong” in the face of loss.

Fact: Feeling sad, frightened, or lonely is a normal reaction to loss. Crying doesn’t mean you are weak. You don’t need to “protect” your family or friends by putting on a brave front. Showing your true feelings can help them and you.

MYTH: If you don’t cry, it means you aren’t sorry about the loss.

Fact: Crying is a normal response to sadness, but it’s not the only one. Those who don’t cry may feel the pain just as deeply as others. They may simply have other ways of showing it.

MYTH: Grief should last about a year.

Fact: There is no right or wrong time frame for grieving. How long it takes can differ from person to person.

Source: Center for Grief and Healing

Journaling Our Grief

I believe that journaling can be immensely healing while mourning.  I know that it has been for me personally.  I saw this great article on Grief Counselor and wanted to share with you.

Suggestions for Grief Journaling

by David Fireman, LCSW 

Keeping a personal journal can help you process and sort out your thoughts, feelings, memories, images, sensations, etc. As you continue to write, you may begin to gain clarity of where you have been, where you are now, and where you want to be in the future. This writing activity helps you track your own journey through grief. Your journal is private. You are the only one who needs to read it, unless you want to share it with others.

Directions

Get a nice notebook. Give yourself as many pages as you think you’ll need for the following sections (these are suggestions and you might come up with some of your own):

1. The meaning of loss

2. A significant childhood loss

3. A significant loss in adolescence

4. A significant loss in adulthood

5. Hurting

6. Helping

7. Healing

8. Needs

9. Puzzles

10. Now

11. Beyond now

The remainder of the journal will be for periodic entries.

Under the 11 headings do the following:

1. The meaning of loss: write down your thoughts about loss as a universal and personal experience (i.e., all of us go through loss at some point in life, but we each do so in unique ways). Also, if the experience of loss means something to you, what is that?

2. Significant loss in childhood: write down how you felt when you had a loss as a child and how you feel now about that loss. What made it hard? What made it bearable? What made it easy? What are the most striking parts of your loss? In what ways do you feel the loss affected or changed you? Looking back, can you see any value in going through your loss? If so, what is it? If not, then say so too.

3. Significant loss in adolescence: same as above except for age.

4. Significant loss in adulthood: same as above except for age.

5. Hurting: write down your present wounds and compare them to earlier times.

6. Helping: write down what has helped you cope with or heal your wounds.

7. Healing: write down your resources and healings after past losses. How are you healing your current grief?

8. Needs: What are your current needs? What would help you be self-respecting and caring of yourself now?

9. Puzzles: What curiosities and unanswered questions do you have about your loss(es)?

10. Now: How do you currently relate to your loss(es)? What do you notice about your present moment experience of being here and living with a history of loss(es)?

11. Beyond now: write down your fantasies and dreams about the future. What plans do you have for recovering newness and meaning in your life again?

Periodic entries: set up a private time and place for you to record your entries during the next few months. Your journal-writing schedule can be daily or weekly with a minimum writing time of 20 minutes.

Many people who begin a journal in a time of grief find that they develop an inner capacity to listen more and more closely and compassionately to themselves and others, thereby enhancing their healing process.

Playing Hide and Seek With Grief

I loved this article about how grief "hides" and can show up at unexpected times catching us off guard.  I know I have had these experiences, and probably will throughout my life.  It's beautifully written....

Playing Hide and Seek With Grief

This article is from Grief Digest Magazine and is written by Harriet Hodgson

The church service had just begun and the congregation and guests were greeting one another. A friend, who knew four of my family members died in 2007, approached me and asked, "How are you?"

"I'm good," I replied. "How are you?"

Widowed a year ago, my friend replied, "Oh, I've found that grief hides. When you think it's gone you find yourself crying."

I understood her comment. After losing my daughter, father-in-law, brother, and former son-in-law, there have been many times when grief reached out and grabbed me. These moments happen without warning and take me by surprise.

I expect to grieve on my deceased daughter's birthday and I do. I expect to grieve on the 23rd of the month, the day she died, and I do. I expect to grieve on the anniversary of my father-in-law's death, and brother's death, and I do. But I didn't expect to play hide and seek with grief.

The unpredictable moments of sorrow make me seek the causes. What triggered my grief? Could I have prevented it? Is there more grief work to do? "Grief hides," as my friend put it so clearly, and I've found that it hides in the nooks and crannies of life.

Sometimes, when my granddaughter speaks just like her mother used to, I feel renewed grief. I feel joy as well. When I see someone using a walker, I'm reminded of my father-in law, and I grieve. My brother loved books and I volunteer at the library in his memory. Last week, without any warning, I felt a wave of sadness at his passing.

For someone like me, who has suffered multiple losses, there are many games of hide and seek. Some mourners have a different approach to the game and try to hide or suppress their emotions. But hiding from emotions only prolongs grief. Thankfully, I've always been honest with my feelings.

If I'm grouchy or feel down, give me an hour, and I can tell you why. As I grow older, I appreciate this personality trait more and more. I also appreciate my ability to identify gut feelings.

Daniel Goleman writes about gut feelings in his book, "Emotional Intelligence: Why it can Matter More than IQ." According to Goleman, being able to identify gut feelings has advantages. This ability gives us the chance to "immediately drop or pursue" different paths with confidence and "pare down our choices."

Nearly four years have passed since my daughter died. Of the four deaths, hers was the most painful. Despite the pain, I have learned from it and one of the things I learned was to accept the hide and seek nature of grief. I accept my feelings and move on. You see, I'm a lucky woman.

My multiple losses reminded me of the miracle of life. So I'm putting hide and seek nature of grief on notice: You may surprise me, but you will not defeat me. Happiness is mine, to savor each day and to share.

Stillborn, Still Living

I found this great article from Grief Digest Magazine and thought I'd share......

Stillborn, Still Living

Grief—the bitter fruit of death—has always been one of the greatest challenges to faith. Even though the piercing sorrow of loss is the painful call faith alone can best answer, in some cases it poses such ferocious questions that it threatens to annihilate the very capacity to believe. This is particularly the case with stillbirth, a crushingly sad phenomenon affecting more than 30,000 babies (and their parents) each year in the United States. That amounts to about seventy couples every day. One in every 116 births experience this disorienting tragedy, so cruel in its ambush of paradox: death before life, the ending before the beginning, a funeral instead of a christening, the stale pall of death over the young body of new life, a first hello as a final goodbye. 

Even now, some nineteen years after my encounter with stillbirth, it seems so odd, so unfair and so out of order. All my wife and I did was go to our obstetrician for a final prenatal check in the 38th week of pregnancy. There had been no gunshots, no terrible car accident, no horrible fall. We were fine when we walked into the doctor’s office, but when we left an hour later, our lives had been shattered. Our precious baby boy, our treasured first child, had inexplicably died in the womb.    

Stillbirth sentences the lost child’s parents to a lifetime of mystery. Who would he have become, what would he have done, how would our lives have been different? There is something inherently haunting about a lifeless baby’s body. He represents the archetype of promise and innocence, yet he has no destiny, he will never be able to realize himself, to tell his own story, to express the humanity he embodies. Hopes for him and for all his life are condemned to curiosity. In never knowing who he is or who he might have become, we also lose a bit of self-knowledge, we never find out who he might have become, how his life would have affected us or  caused us to grow and change. A baby was lost, and a measure of self-knowledge, as well as intimacy between spouses who will not share the precious moments of parenthood together. And there is the subtle fear that he may somehow represent a judgment on you, a rejection by God of your humanity. 

He becomes a silent witness to your sorrow, and in his muteness depicts your 
utter inability to answer the urgent and recurring question “Why?”  In the peculiarity of stillbirth, Mark Twain’s observation of grief is most true, “Losing a loved one,” he said, “is like having your house burn down; it takes years to realize all that you’ve lost.”    

While the death of an infant is often irrationally considered by our society to be more of a “mother’s issue” than a father’s grief, it is a haunting, silent partner in many men’s lives, affecting their psyches and relationships in subtle and mysterious ways. Abe Lincoln lost two young children, one during the Civil War; John F. Kennedy and Ronald Reagan both had their already complex selves enduringly altered by neonatal death. Still today, former President George H. W. Bush cannot discuss the death of his three-year-old daughter, which occurred about sixty years ago, without a tearful, inarticulate stammering.    

Yes, those who grieve child loss form a secret society of psycho-emotional vertigo. The fact is the terrain of the psyche is not as well-charted as we like to  believe. The dawn of the twenty-first century sees us mapping the brain and reading DNA, yet the dark tunnels of psychic trauma into which the vortex of great loss conducts us remain largely unexplored.     

The tendrils of grief can creep into the psyche, influencing one’s personal and political manner: the melancholia and fatalism of Lincoln, the reckless hedonism of Kennedy, the strange familial detachment of Reagan, the emotional aphasia of George H. W. Bush     

But even amid psychic ravaging, a paradox of loss emerges: by being reduced we grow. It represents a strange point of contact with the ultimate purposes of life, with the true nature of life and the reality of life hereafter. I never felt closer to God than I did after my son died. Ironically, the end of a life can bring to those around it a new fullness of life. In grief, faith becomes both a refuge and puzzle. It preserves meaning to life and the universe, but it also seeks an explanation, and it searches for answers.     

After we lost our baby, I found we thought more carefully about life; we sensed in a clearer way its value, and we were more sensitive to the pain and suffering of others. Our acquaintance with deep sorrow had sensitized us to the sufferings of other people. Our ability to be compassionate grew. Frequently, we would see on the news that some child had been killed in an accident or murdered, and my wife and I would send a sympathy card to the grieving family. Or we would pray together for people who had been victimized in some horrible way.    

Certainly these were not earth-shaking acts of humanitarianism on our part, but they were things we never would have done before. It never would have crossed our minds. The deaths of strangers and the sufferings of their families had new meaning to us. Our souls had grown, and we could now perceive the agonies felt by other people, whereas before our unwanted encounter with personal devastation we would not have been capable of such empathy.    

Our souls, which had been sites of  such complete, scorching devastation, in time began to sprout new buds of  life. The emotional ground of our lives, which had been plowed under by sorrow, in time started to be fertile again, and to an extent that far surpassed its previous capacity. Our pain had begun to change us for the better. Indeed, it seems that sorrow, the pit of grief, is perhaps, one of the more under-recognized proofs of God, the plausibility of his existence, that at our lowest moments we either turn to him, or rage against him. After all, why should our experience of pain turn us into his prosecutors, unless we had a natural, prior moral knowledge and expectation that matters ought to have been different. 

“Suffering is the sole origin of consciousness,” Dostoevsky said. And it may well be that in the pitch darkness of our greatest losses we are best able to see the still steady light of God’s reality and presence.

By bstetson@chapman.edu is a writer, chaplain and lecturer in Southern California. He's written widely on religious and social subjects, including The Silent Subject: Reflections on the Unborn in American Culture (Praeger, 1996), Tender Fingerprints: A True Story of Loss and Resolution (Zondervan, 1999), and Living Victims, Stolen Lives: Parents of Murdered Children Speak to America (Baywood, 2003). His essays and reviews have appeared in various periodicals, including The Orange County Register, The San Diego Union & Tribune, The Los Angeles Times and Christianity Today magazine. He teaches in the Religious Studies and Communication Studies Departments at Cal State Long Beach and Chapman University, respectively. As a chaplain, Dr. Stetson frequently works as a funeral officiate, including historic Fairhaven Memorial Park, soon to celebrate its centenary. He is active in the Greater Orange County Chapter of Parents of Murdered Children, and he leads The New Normal, a bi-monthly grief support group at Grace Church of Orange, in Orange County. He and his wife Nina have three teenage children.