Living in the Rainbow

I saw this baby loss meme and thought I would try and answer these 7 questions as honestly as I can.  So here goes, Buckle Up.

1. What do you want people to know about the child you have lost?

First, that she existed, she was really a baby.  Not “just a stillbirth” or some medical event but my daughter who died.  Please don’t devalue her with the language you use.

Second, that my wife and I loved her very much – and still do.  If she was with us still she would have made such an amazing difference to our lives – that is the size of gap she has left.

Third (and sorry to be a pedant) but we didn’t lose her.  That makes it sound like we misplaced her somewhere behind the furniture.  Sorry but I personally don’t like that term even though I use it myself without thinking.  She died and is no longer with us, but we know where she is.

2. What names did you give your child and why?

A few weeks before our baby died we found out she was a girl at one of the scans.  At that point we named her Abigail Joy.  That was a fantastic thing we were able to do for her – give her a name whilst she was still alive and have a few weeks by which we could talk about her by name.  That was my happiest memory of Abigail.  Abigail means “Father’s Joy”.  After struggling with infertility (for more on this click here) and finding out the problem was on my side we were amazed to find out we were pregnant – overJOYed in fact.  At that point we decided that if our baby was a girl we would call her Abigail – she was going to bring me so much Joy as her Father.  This all seemed a bit ironic when everything unravelled at 20 weeks and she died at 33.  But it inspired me to write this line which is a play on her name in a poem I wrote for her funeral:

I will not end with sadness; there’s hope in these words I’ve spoken
My joy is now the Father’s, and in Heaven nothing’s broken

3. What rituals or ways of memorializing your child seem to best help you cope with their loss?

Both my wife and I like to visit the hill near our house where we scattered her ashes.  It is a lovely place and gives us time and space to think of her.  Sometimes I talk to her even though I don’t think she can hear me – but it helps me to process what I think.  Sometimes I go beyond to a nearby place and pray to God about how I feel about Abigail.

We are trying to include various things around the house.  A frame with her footprints, name, birthday and poem.  A plant in the garden.  Hope soon to do a mosaic plant pot with her name.  Things like that.

Also, we are trying to make sure our older son grows us with the knowledge that he has a little sister Abigail.

In technology space, I made the start of “Sweet Child O’ Mine” the ring-tone on my phone.  Also, I have started signing off emails, cards, letters with xxxx (one kiss for each member of our family including Abigail).  Most people miss these smaller signals altogether but it is good to be able to build Abigail into daily routines like this.

Then of course there is doing this blog which should give me somewhere to express myself.

Abigail died October 2008 so only 10 months ago, I hope to be able to do more going forward.

4. What are the kindest and/or most helpful things people have said to you? What are the worst?

The Best

Early on, the best things people said were “I’m sorry”, “I don’t know what to say” and “Words are not enough” and left it at that.  People that were prepared to show emotion with us and not need to say something to try and “make it better” were what we needed.  It was good when people were prepared to be silent and just listen.

More recently, people that are prepared to initiate conversations about Abigail are a Godsend.  People who want to talk about her, acknowledge her and value her.  Recognise that she is as valid a child as any other child in their family and worthy of recognition.  People who are prepared to take us as they find us.  One thing someone said recently was how much Abigail’s death had impacted them and their faith – that really helped as we felt we were alone in that but after that less so.

The Worst

The worst things people have said?  Early on we got a card which said it “was probably for the best our baby had died as something was obviously wrong.”  Something was wrong, our daughter had died, how was that for the best?  If we had had one hour, day, year or lifetime with Abigail we would have treasured it beyond words!  So no, it wasn’t for the best.

Others said “we would feel better when we had another baby.”  That hurt for two reasons.  First we could have a thousand babies and none of them would replace Abigail.  Second, we may never be able to have another baby due to fertility problems.

One couple told us they couldn’t come to the funeral because of another family commitment.  They then came and told us they could come because their cat was sick so they needed to stay home to look after it.  That made us feel quite low on their priority list.

A few months after Abigail died I was getting back to work and had preached at a church in a nearby city.  An old lady came up to me at the door and shook my hand as she was leaving.  She said “I hear you lost a baby?”, “Yes” I replied. “Was it stillborn?” she asked, “Er” nervously I replied “yes”.  “Well that’s not too bad then” she said and walked on.  I was absolutely stunned.  I had about a hundred more hands to shake in a complete daze.  I got into my car, drove 1/4 mile and stopped and cried and cried and cried.

A few people (Christians) have said when they find out Abigail was stillborn “so she didn’t live at all then”.  Yes she did! She lived for 33 weeks.  Life begins at conception (Psalm 139 v15-16) how hard is that to understand?  But this comment also makes me feel small – it felt like they were saying Abigail wasn’t a real baby, not a real daughter, and I should get over it and stop this “grief” thing.

More recently the worst thing people say is perhaps a surprise – it is simply nothing.  They are silent.  If we raise the subject they change it.  If we mention Abigail they move away as if we are talking about something dirty.  She is our daughter why should we NOT talk about her?  Is that not a natural thing to do?  These result in awkward conversations.

5. Who is your hero? Who helps you make it through the dark days better than anyone else on the planet?

It really helped early on (and still does) to know that God saw his son suffer and die on the cross.  Our minister spoke from Isaiah 53 at Abigail’s funeral and I think that it really does help to know that God suffered and died as Christ.  But also that God suffered separation and loss as Father.

Other than that I would have to say my wife and son.  My wife because she is the only other person in the world for whom Abigail was a daughter and therefore our loss is shared totally.  She is also great.  My son because we can channel some of the feelings of loss into valuing him.  We are so blessed to have him – others have suffered loss of a baby with no living child – that must be so very very hard.  He also talks about Abigail and asks simple questions which can be quite profound.  I must put up a poem he inspired in another post soon – watch this space.  [subsequent addition - and here it is]

And, we also have some great friends living nearby who have been with us through it all and supported us in ways that we really appreciate.  We need them still.

6. Is there anything you need to say or want to say but haven’t been able to? Can you say it now?

That it is hard still.  I am not “over it”.  I will never “get over it.”  I don’t want to “get over Abigail” EVER.  I don’t think I’ll “get through it” either.  Abigail is my daughter and part of who I am.  This is who I am now and I don’t want to be different.  Please get used to it.  I want a wider circle of my friends to understand that and make room for Abigail in our lives without making me feel 2 inches high.

7. How are you doing? How are you really doing?

Today, okay I think.  It does vary day to day.  It is good to share in this blog and hopefully find some like-minded people – where are you all by the way?

Really? I need to know God more in my place of grief and brokenness.