This Looks Like Progress

I'm hesitant to say it, simply because I'm a cynic and because the issue of stillbirth, and raising awareness and working towards prevention of stillbirth, is so dear to my heart. However, I've been impressed and surprised to see a little more awareness of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month in more traditional media venues, acknowledged by people and groups we've actually heard of.

For example, on Facebook, as well as on their website, the natural cleaning products company Seventh Generation posted a note about Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, October 15th, in recognition of the millions of women who lose a baby every year. Would we have seen that a year or two ago? I think not, though I am curious as to what, if anything, prompted the company to add such a post to their wall. I am both surprised and very grateful to them for mentioning the day itself. It gives me hope and makes me feel proud that I have used their products in the past. Not sure if they are here in England, but if they are, I will be supporting them as a customer again.

The Washington Post included a blog post about October 15th in their online forums in a column by Janice D'Arcy. I can't say if this ran in the print version of the paper, but I'm pleased that it ran in online under the headline of one of the US's larger papers (so many notices are in small venues; this one is likely to pick up more notice).

If you get a chance and feel so moved, thank the people and companies you see making an effort to acknowledge stillbirth. These are small but positive steps in the right direction, and they deserve our thanks if we are to continue making strides in education about grieving and loss.

Stillbirth Statistics

From the recent series of articles printed in the British medical journal The Lancet, which coordinated a study with the World Health Organization:

• 2.6 million third-trimester stillbirths worldwide each year;
• 1.1 million could be prevented, The Lancet estimates, with simple interventions like folic acid supplements before conception, diabetes management in the mother, and detection of hypertension, among others;

Stillbirths are an invisible public health epidemic, with no national or global initiative to track or prevent.

I don't speak out because I am grieving, or because I am depressed, or because I am dwelling on the fact that Ben is dead. I speak out because I love him, and because if more people know that almost 50% of stillbirths can be prevented, if society has the will to research, fund, and educate the population, (as with SIDS research and education), we can make a huge difference in many, many lives. We can spare parents the sorrow my family has experienced.

Let me make it clear: yes, I still grieve for my son, it's only natural. There are a lifetime of moments I will never experience with him. I miss him, always, every day. I'm here now because I want to make a difference, not because I am dwelling in my loss. You don't get over it, but you learn to incorporate it into your life. That's what I've done.

I can make a difference. That's why I'm here.

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month

It's that time again...October. I wasn't going to bring it up, much, over here, but today I was reminded, yet again, that I am supposed to be over losing Ben.

And so, let me ask you this, those of you who think I should be "over" it. If your husband of 40 years died tomorrow, how soon would you be over it? If your 3-year-old grandchild died next week, how soon would you be over it? If your 35-year-old son died today, how soon would you be over it? Do you not think you would carry it with you for the rest of your days? Do you think you would not think about that particular beloved every day?

I lost one of the three best things I have ever done. And I will talk about him (though I barely talk about him I know you think I dwell on his absence far too much) because I love him. And he is my child every bit as much as the two I have here, living and breathing. And if talking about Ben, and advocating for stillbirth research and support can change the outcome positively for that 50% of babies whose lives might be saved, then no, I will never get over it.

The Story of Ben

I make the mistake, all too frequently, of thinking that Ben's story belongs only to me. Yes, I cling to it, to him, possessively, a mother bear ready to fight for her cub. I think that he is solely mine because I carried him in my womb, because he spent all of his life, his living, within me. I want him to be all mine because I have so little to show he was ever here.

There are other stories of his life and death that I forget. His father's story. His grandparents' and aunts', uncles', cousins' stories. His brother's and sister's stories.

All of these stories are incomplete, just like mine, but no less valid, no less real. I was reminded this morning of that reality by James, who cried in bed as I prodded him to get up, get ready for school. "I miss my brother," he said, as a tear rolled down his cheek. And while I don't think he was crying because he misses the brother who lived and died before he came to be, I could only think of how different our lives would be had Ben lived. That James and Charlotte will have their own stories to tell one day of how they think their lives changed because one of us is gone.

I want Ben's story to be mine only, because I am selfish, because I miss him, because I am his mother. But all of us lost something the day he died. All of us, whether we acknowledge it or not.

Sedona Grief Retreat

This retreat has me wishing I still lived in the U.S. for many reasons. One of them is Kara Jones, aka Mother Henna.....she is an awesome creative, bereaved mother, teacher, coach and all-around cool person. She, as well as the amazing Joanne Cacciatore, bereaved mother, professor, and founder of the MISS Foundation, are putting on a grief retreat in beautiful Sedona, Arizona on October 15th, which Infant Loss & Remembrance Day.

This retreat is open to anyone grieving a loss and not limited to infant bereavement. I would love to go and learn from these wise women, not to mention spend a weekend in Sedona--my husband and I traveled there for a wedding anniversary many years ago and I would love to get back to the breathtaking scenery and wide-open skies we found there.

If you're able to attend, I'd love to hear about it afterwards.

May Your Love Bring Us Love

There is nothing I can say about the events of 10 years ago that someone else hasn't said better, with more wisdom, more insight. When I remember that day, I think of the silence, after the towers fell, stepping outside on a beautiful, glorious September day, and there were no cars moving past, no airplanes flying overhead, no schoolchildren calling.

Only silence.

And today I give you Bruce Springsteen singing a song from his 9/11 album, The Rising, Into the Fire.

Well the sky was falling and streaked with blood
I heard you calling me, then you disappeared into dust
Up the stairs, into the fire
Up the stairs, into the fire
I need your kiss, but love and duty called you someplace higher
Somewhere up the stairs, into the fire

May your strength give us strength
May your faith give us faith
May your hope give us hope
May your love bring us love

Cleveland, OH Fundraising Concert

Until 5 weeks ago, I was a resident of a Cleveland suburb, and I met Norine Tuck-Ringwalt, also a suburban Cleveland mom, as a volunteer for the Star Legacy Foundation. Norine lost her daughter Areila this past May. Unfortunately we never had a chance to meet in real life, but only know one another through the wonders of the internet.

Norine has organized a concert this Sunday, September 11th, to benefit the foundation, at Brother's Lounge, 11609 Detroit Ave., Cleveland, from 5:00 to 9:00 pm.

If you can, please attend. It's a long flight for me, but I will be there in spirit. For more information, go here. And thanks.