Day 10 - Symbols

The 3 stripes match the stripes on Liam's urn.  Birds remind us of Riley who flew away too soon.

Day 12: Scent.

Scent??  Really?  Scent?!?  

I don't have a single good smell for Riley.  Not one.  I have the smell of blood, raw hamburger, and death.  She smelled like blood.  Like raw hamburger.

What a fucking terrible photo prompt

Day 9: Special Place

Day 8: Jewelry

Day 8: Jewelry I'm behind

The pendant on the bottom was made for my by Family Tree Glass. I has me, my husband, and our 3 babies.

The ones on top are hand stamped by someone on Etsy (srgoddess). Each has one of my babies' names.

Day 7: What to say

Day 7: What to say.

My only points here are

1. ASK ABOUT OUR BABIES!  Yep, we might cry (probably will), but we cry all the time anyways.  If you don't ask about them, it's like you don't care about them.  It might be uncomfortable for you, but we live this every. single. day.   Deal with your discomfort for 5 seconds.

2.  There is nothing you can say to fix it.  Nothing.  It's okay that you don't know what to say.  Actions speak louder than words.  Send a card on anniversary dates, participate in memorial events, leave a snack on our porch, leave an angel in our tree, help us make a graceful exit when we are losing our shit, do 1 thing in memory of our baby.  Not just the month after our baby dies, but 6 months, a year, 5 years later.  It takes 5 minutes to send an email that says "I'm thinking about you."

Day 6: What not to say

Day 6:  What NOT to say to a grieving parent.

I used to believe that everything happens for a reason and while you may still believe it, right now, I can't see a single reason that two innocent babies died.  I can't find reason in it at all.

Telling me not to worry because I can have another child completely disrespects and disregards my baby.  It's like you are acting like they never existed.  They existed, they were here.  I can't just hop onto another baby to replace them. 

A story of "horror"

I was recently re-trying this whole playgroup game when an expecting mother told us a JoAnn's  employee had told her a "horrific" story about mistaken gender of a baby in utero (she actually used that word: "horrific"). That poor little family had painted and decorated the room pink only to find out their baby girl was indeed a little boy.    They had to repaint and buy boy clothes.  Those poor, poor souls.

Seriously!?

(Don't get me started on the absurdity of colors and babies.  Their son would have been scarred for life if he slept in :GASP: pink)

When I hear the phrase "you never know" and "horrific story" my mind now goes to the countless stories about dead children, the death of babies, the lost of our most precious.  The sickening fact that it can happen again in a subsequent pregnancy (excuse me while I have a panic attack).    How many women do I know, whose stories I have read/heard of who would KILL to have their child alive and well..... boy, girl, mentally retarded, special needs, deformed..... Bring it on.  We would take our babies in anyway possible.  And these women were chatting about how awful it would be to have to redecorate.

These acquaintances know my history.  It's always one of the first things that come up when meeting another mom.  They know I lost a full term daughter under a year ago and a little Liam under a year before that.  How can anyone be so insensitively oblivious?

 I had the realization while sitting there that I have nothing in common with these women. 

"So what have you been up to since I have seen you??  What is new?"    Mentally I went through it all.....  **Collapsing into a pile of flesh, blood, bones, and tears at The Walk to Remember....Trying to conceive baby #4 while in a unscalable Riley grief hole....  The slow death of the garden that has been so therapeutic for me and what that means for my mental health....  My decision to donate business proceeds to Rowan Tree Foundation.....  The awesomeness of  the Capture Your Grief photo project.....  Making prayer flags for my babies....**  I couldn't think of one acceptable life occurrence.  I knew what their reactions would be to the raw realness of my life; they can't handle it.  My response, "Nothing, really."

Needless to say I left, and have no intention of going back.  Life is too short and I don't have the patience for your silly little views of "horror."

Day 5: Memorial

 

Day 5:  Memorial

All three of my babes are memorialized on my back  There is something amazing about having their names carved into my living, breathing body.

Day 4: Treasured Item

Riley was wrapped in this blanket while we were in the hospital.  Honestly, I think she was only in it while her pictures were taken.  But this bit of material was on her, right next to her skin.  It absorbed some of her blood.... some of the fluids from her body.  It used to smell like her.  I used to sniff around on it looking for her scent.  It's gone now....  I can still see the dirty bits where she bled on it.  I clung to this blanket when we left her in the hospital and for months later it went everywhere with me.

Day 3: Self Portrait After Loss

A little over one month after Riley died we went to Florida. I had to get out. I wanted for such a long time to just get on a plane and leave. I needed to run away. So we ran to the ocean.  It didn't fix anything, but it felt good to be somewhere else.

Day 2. V2

Day 2: Before loss.
I have to do this one twice because I need to do this picture. This straddles before/after loss. Riley is already dead in this picture. I just don't know it yet. The thought starts to cross my mind later this night.

Day 2: Capture your Grief, Self Portrait before loss

This is me with my son, Hunter.  June of 2010.  This is before being pregnant with Liam or Riley.  I look young and so damned oblivious.  I have no idea what is coming or what is possible.

Day 1 of Capture Your Grief.  Sunrise.