10 Things

Kristi at Healing, Dealing, Dreaming has a list on her blog titled "20 Things Parents of Angels Wish You Would Remember". What a fabulous idea. She is my inspiration for the below list.



10 Things Others Can Do When Supporting A Grieving Parent

1. Acknowledge my baby, please. Don't be afraid to mention his name.

2. If you don't know what to say... say "I don't know what to say". It's much better than ignoring the situation altogether.

3. Please don't judge me. This journey is new and horrifying for me. I am still learning my way.

4. Although we have "better" days now, please don't think that I am "over" it. Truth is, I will never be "over" losing Nicholas.

5. Please don't ignore me. By choosing to stay away from me I feel isolated or that I'm no longer worthy of your friendship.

6. Please don't feel awkward or uncomfortable talking about Nicholas with me. Truth is, it's not fair to make me feel uncomfortable just because you are - I borrowed that from Kristi - so true.

7. Please don't forget our Nicholas. Just because the months go on doesn't mean he deserves to be forgotten. I think of him and love him every single day and am extremely protective of his memory.

8. Please understand that seeing and talking about newborns is horribly painful for me right now - I see Nicholas in them all.

9. Please understand that holidays and anniversaries are especially tough for us. A "thinking of you" is so appreciated.

10. I reiterate - Acknowledge my baby, please. Don't be afraid to mention his name. Nicholas is a part of us and always will be.

Bringing Nicholas Home

It was a Friday evening, two weeks after we lost our precious boy, when the phone rang. I had been letting my husband answer the phone for weeks. I couldn't bare talking to anyone. But he was out for a few hours, so I answered. It was the funeral home, calling to tell us that Nicholas' (ashes) were ready to be picked up. "We are opened until this time and then again during these times tomorrow" the woman said. It felt like I was making arrangements to pick up my dry cleaning. My heart stopped, I'm not sure I said anything at all and then I hung up. Wow, thanks for that..... and then I was anxious to have my son home, with his family.

I called my husband, knowing he would be on his way home, and told him the news. He called me a few minutes later and asked me to meet him in the driveway. It was snowing, cold... figid, actually. I could barely breathe when he took my hand and laid it on the green velour bag that held our son. My husband wanted us to walk him into our home together. He was finally home, where he belonged. I remember feeling utter desperation, complete despair.. but I also remember feeling a sense of relief. It had been a very long two weeks living with the knowledge that Nicholas was not yet at peace... I was grateful that he was now with us.

Earlier that week the funeral home had called to say that Nicholas had arrived from the hospital and that we could bring anything over that we wanted him cremated with. First, we stopped by my parents. My mom had bought Nicholas an outfit and wrote him a note and a dear, dear friend had made him a crocheted afghan. As soon as I saw my parents, I dissolved. No words were spoken. Just hugs and tears. My dad announced that he was going to come with us, as much for himself (I suspect) as for support for us.

I remember barely being able to get out of the car.... walking, hand in hand with my husband, to the front door and stepping inside this place I never, ever imagined having to be for my son. We "spoke" with the lady there for a few minutes and left my dad in the lobby. When we came out, dad was nowhere... maybe he was outside waiting... and then it hit me. The doors to the chapel were closed (they were opened when we arrived) and I just knew that he was in there with his grandson. Meeting him, holding him, caressing him, loving him.

My husband and I had talked about whether we were going to take the opportunity to see Nicholas again. We had decided against it for the simple fact that we had already said goodbye. I wanted to remember his beautiful, fairly warm, pink skinned body..... But, let me tell you, as soon as I realized that my baby boy was just behind those doors there was NOTHING stopping me from seeing him again. I literally felt an electric pull....the deep, unstoppable connection that a mommy feels for her babies. I made sure that it was okay with my husband (as I am still mindful of his feelings) and he assured me that he would support me in whatever I needed to do. We walked through those doors and there he was, in a little white box, covered in a blue blanket, looking totally peaceful. I remember falling to my knees, completely overcome with grief... so weak and powerless. I touched him, I kissed him, I cried and cried and cried and cried for him. BUT, I am so grateful for that experience. I am grateful I was able to physically see my baby boy one last time, with my pillars of strength, my husband and my Dad by my side.

Footprint Inspirations

A friend of mine gave me a book shortly after we lost Nicholas called "The Footprints Book of Daily Inspirations" by Margararet Fishback Powers. I have only read it sporadically, but today came across an 'inspiration' I thought was particularly beautiful.

"Flowers and smiles both need to be shared often. After all, the most beautiful smiles are made with two lips."

What sunshine is to flowers, smiles are to humanity

As difficult as it is for most of us to smile these days (or at least to truly mean it) I found this thought to be eloquently poignant. Hope you do too.

Love to you all.... xo

Nicholas' Memorial - November 16, 2008

Nicholas' memorial was beautiful. Small, quiet and full of love. My husband and I decided that we wanted to have a gathering at our home, with our family, some very close friends and neighbours who had stood by us in the weeks leading up to losing Nicholas. Having a large gathering at an impersonal funeral home was not an option for us.

I spent the week leading up to the memorial making scrapbooks, photo albums, memorial notices'.... anything that would keep me busy enough. Anything to keep me from crying 24/7.

My wonderful brother and sister-in-law put the precious pictures we have of our sweet boy into a slideshow and set it to music (maybe one day I will post that). Our guests were emotionally moved by the show... I was honored to share our intimate moments with Nicholas, with the one's we love.

We asked a close neighbour and friend to say some words... He was wonderful. He treated our Nicholas' memory with the dignity and respect he deserves. I will forever be thankful for that.

I went through the day on auto-pilot. A close family friend was there to serve light food and beverages, so I didn't have to worry about that, although I remember often wanting to duck into the kitchen for a break. Again, shock was our friend that day... otherwise I wouldn't have gotten through it.

A big thank you to all who helped prop us up that day.... and in the many days following. We are truly blessed to have such amazing, strong people in our lives.

Love.... xo

To Get Somewhere You Have To Leave Nowhere Behind

I have been thinking about this sentiment a lot lately; to get somewhere you have to leave nowhere behind.

There have been many things in my life that I have been fearful of. When I was young, and in grade school, I was extremely shy. I would physically get sick if I was requested to answer a question in front of the entire class and forget it if there was a presentation of some kind. I had come a long, long way from being that insecure, afraid little girl.... until my son died.

Back then, challenging my fear was not something I wanted to do, but if I wanted to do well in school and make my teachers proud, I had to conquer that fear. At the time I didn't realize the subtle things I was learning by pushing myself and expanding my comfort zone. I didn't know that my confidence would grow, propelling me to take risks in other areas of my life. The lesson learned was that in order to get somewhere you must leave nowhere behind.

After Nicholas died I found myself living in 'nowhere' land (still do sometimes). That was fine with me. My comfort zone had been shattered, nothing will ever be the same as it was. We have been forced to take this unwanted journey through grief. The pain can be so intense and so powerful, it's often hard to put one foot in front of the other.

"Nowhere" land was just fine for while. I wanted to stay there for a long time. Nowhere became very comfortable... somewhere is not a place I wanted to go.

I still find myself not wanting to go somewhere... to stay in "nowhere" land, but it's that comfort in being nowhere when I think we subconciously make a decision to either stay in 'nowhere' or challenge ourselves - answering a question in front of the class confidently, so to speak. We must work at going somewhere, even though we may be afraid of where somewhere will take us.

I remember thinking that "anywhere is better than nowhere" ... "I am tired, no, exhausted, of feeling so sad all the time". I think that was one of my 'light bulb' moments. It was after recognizing that "anywhere is better than nowhere" that I felt some healing begin. Most days I am still scared as to where this somewhere will take me, take us. The unknown is frightening. We are walking blind. I just wish that there was a crystal ball on the path to 'somewhere'.

Grief is scary, scary stuff. Grief has pounded us, tortured us, exhausted us.... it's definitely hard to get back up sometimes. Yet, somehow we manage to keep breathing, somehow we manage to exist.

It's very scary to go 'somewhere' and leave 'nowhere' behind. I was terrified that that meant leaving Nicholas behind - now I know that that is the furthest from the truth. He will travel with me to 'somewhere'. He will help me get there. He will help me get back up when I stumble along the way. I truly believe that if we acknowledge our pain, confront it, the pain will slowly lessen.... our lives will get a little more manageable. It's all so hard... but if we want to work at it, we can do it.

Writing helps me, as I know it helps many of you wonderful ladies reading here. If writing helps to relieve some pain, then I say go for it. If talking to someone, hugging someone, yelling at the wall helps you, then go for it! I think it's so important for us to let out our emotions.. even the scary ones. It's okay to let others know what you need (or what you don't need). It's a sign of strength to ask for help. Help and support is out there, we should use it. As we express our emotions, we are beginning to heal. We are beginning to go 'somewhere'.

I once heard a quote that said "Even though the deaths of our children have absolutely crushed us, it is because of their lives that we must fight for our lives." Wow, how true is that! I am constantly learning about the little things that I can do to take down my path to 'somewhere', to a happier place. These things are ever changing (I suspect they always will be).

One way that will help me in my quest for going 'somewhere' will eventually be to help others. The love I have for Nicholas can be spread around, to those in need, to those who are new to this journey. I am looking forward to spreading that love when I feel ready to do so.

I think that "to get somewhere you have to leave nowhere behind" will always be a battle. We will forever carry our grief with us, just as we do our precious babies, but I don't want that to mean that we are destined to live a 'grief stricken' life. We will have to fight to go 'somewhere'... fight for a place of hope, for a place of meaning. Fighting is so hard, but I have to believe that it's worth it, we are worth it and our Angels are worth it.

For Just a Little While

I just came across this poem and really enjoyed it. Hope you do too.

Love to you all... xo




For Just a Little While

For just a little while,
You shared my every breath.
I carried you inside of me,
Dancing out the rhythm
Of the same sweet song,
Our hearts beat in harmony.
For just a little while,
I held you deep within.
I nurtured you with body, mind and soul.

When you slipped away,
The absence of your presence
Took a wrenching and tormenting toll.
For just a little while,
Our dreams and hopes
Grew right along with you.
But they came crashing down
When you slipped away from me
And there was nothing anyone could do.

If, for a little while,
I could hold you once again,
And we could share the
rhythm of our hearts,
If we could say hello, good-bye,
Like loved ones do,
When one of them departs,
If, for a little while,
We could have precious moments
Stopped in time
I’d tell you that I love you,
And I’d share my joy
In knowing you were mine…
For just a little while.

~ Gwen Flowers ~

Thankful for True Friends

"A real friend is one who walks in when the rest of the world walks out."






I had dinner with a really great friend last night. We were actually best friends back in Kindergarten to grade 3 and then I moved away and we lost touch. Well, through the phenomenon of facebook, we re-connected and came to realize that we live in the same city, yet again (25+ years later). Small world, or what?

She had twins last May. A boy and a girl. She was blessed to have her little girl with her for 2 weeks before she passed. Her little boy is now 11 months and is strong and healthy. We probably would not have gotten together (as much as we said we would on facebook) if it wasn't for the loss of our babies. When my husband, Evan, Kyle and I lost Nicholas in November I reached out to her in a desperate attempt to "connect" with someone who understood my pain. She has been amazing. A true friend and a true support person.

We have been attending support groups together for the last couple of months and having each other there for 'moral' support has proved to be very helpful. I am grateful for her.

She is approaching some hard weeks as the birthday of her twins apporoaches as well as the anniversary of her daughter's passing, etc, etc. I am pulling for her, sending her strength and love of all kinds.

I am so deeply sorry that we have been brought back together under these circumstances, but I am thankful all the same. Love you J.