Monday, October 26, 2009
Saturday, October 24, 2009
This Time Last Year
This time last year I was happily pregnant, convinced my lifa was about to change forever. I was in the second trimester of my pregnancy and was filled with happy hormones. Sunil was so full of joy and excitement. We exercised regularly and I was in excellent physical shape. I went for walks every morning and then on the weekends I spent a couple hours doing water aerobics or just floating and dancing around a heated pool. This was my special time with Akul. The pool was usually empty and I coud sing to my baby. I sang all the nursery rhymes I remembered in hindi and English. One day when I was singing "hush little baby, don't say a word...papa's going to buy you a diamond ring..." Sunil joined us. He told me he would not buy his son any "rings." He said his son will not want any jewellery...if it was a girl it would be different. So I rewrote the nursery rhyme.
Hush little baby, don't say a word
mama's going to buy you a singing bird
If your singing bird won't sing
Dad's going to buy you a basketball ring
If the basketball ring is too high
Dad's going to buy you a rocket that flies
If that rocket were to ever break down
You will still be the cutest little baby in town.
When they got Akul off the life support and put him in my arms, I sang this to him. It is his poem, but he barely got to hear it. My baby never got the chance to grow up. To me he will always be the cutest little baby in town.
Hush little baby, don't say a word
mama's going to buy you a singing bird
If your singing bird won't sing
Dad's going to buy you a basketball ring
If the basketball ring is too high
Dad's going to buy you a rocket that flies
If that rocket were to ever break down
You will still be the cutest little baby in town.
When they got Akul off the life support and put him in my arms, I sang this to him. It is his poem, but he barely got to hear it. My baby never got the chance to grow up. To me he will always be the cutest little baby in town.
Saturday, October 17, 2009
Festival of Lights
Today is Deepawali or Diwali. It is the hindu (Indian) festival of lights. Mythology tells us the story of one of the hindu gods, Rama, who triumphed over the evil Ravana and returned home on this day. He had been away from his family and his kingdom for 14 years. On his return, the people were very happy and to show their happiness they lit oil lamps all around their homes. This evening, most hindus will light candles or lamps outside their sparkling spring-cleaned homes and invite God into their homes. And what will Sunil and I do? We don't know. The light has gone out of our lives. It went away the day we were told that our son had a brain bleed and that we have to "let him go." When our son breathed his last breath, we were engulfed in a dark blackness and that darkness is here to stay. The only candles we light are candles lit in remembrance of our lost baby.
Tuesday, October 13, 2009
Eight Months of Empty Cradles
Akul would be 8 months old today.
After we lost our son, we got a memory box to take home with us from the hospital. This was created by a support group called "Empty Cradles." We lost Akul on Feb 16 and the first wednesday in March we went for our first "Empty Cradles" meeting. I still remember that was one meeting for which no one had showed up when we reached there. The coordinator was there and she had a candle buring in one corner, a coffee pot with freshly brewed coffee, a few stuffed brown baby bears sitting on one table and some literature about this organisation. She also provided the group with a box of tissues. Sunil and I went there but we were unable to tell our story. The group leader or coordinator talked to us about her own loss and then a few more people walked in and started sharing the stories of their losses. I just sat there and cried. I was so numb and my husband was so angry. By the end of the evening we were able to tell the few people who were there our story. It was a disjointed jumbled version of what happened and I knew that many did not even understand what we were saying. But they all sat patiently listening and shedding tears. This was our only outing during the first few months of our loss. The one place we could go and vent. So we did. We went month after month till everyone heard Akul's story and they all started talking about "Akul" and not "your baby."
This month our meeting was very special. October meetings are memorial meetings. The Empty cradles website reads,
"This is one of the most important and moving meetings of the year…a time to remember, reflect and connect with your beloved baby(ies). We’d like to invite you to share with others at the meeting the various ways that you have memorialized your baby(ies). Perhaps you have a memory album, pictures, a poem, a quilt, a box, special mementos or some other cherished items that helps you to remember and keep your baby’s spirit alive. Please bring any memorial items that you would like to share to the October meeting and join us for our candle lighting memorial."
We went and sat in a circle. We had the option of reading poems from a book they provided us, or reading something we wrote ourselves for our babies. I read something I had written for Akul. It was really hard to read it but I was honoring my son. I had to do it. I also took Akul's baby boy album and a little diary I write which is entitled "Letters to My Son." We were given cards and we had to write messages for our babies which were read as we lit candles for them. After lighting a candle we were asked to pick up a rose from the bunch of roses arranged in a vase and return to the table with our rose. I chose a white rose because I associate Akul with white roses. We had a little break from teh ceremonies and during this time we were able to share our babies pictures and items we had brought with us.
This month I also decided to start volunteering and went for the "Empty Cradles" volunteer meeting. I think about Akul every day, almost all the time. However my time at my support group meeting is always special and it is something for me to look forward to. We smile, talk and reach out for the box of tissues that occupies a very important place in our monthly meeting. If you can spare a minute, visit their website. The section on internet resources has helped me in the past.
http://www.emptycradle.org/
After we lost our son, we got a memory box to take home with us from the hospital. This was created by a support group called "Empty Cradles." We lost Akul on Feb 16 and the first wednesday in March we went for our first "Empty Cradles" meeting. I still remember that was one meeting for which no one had showed up when we reached there. The coordinator was there and she had a candle buring in one corner, a coffee pot with freshly brewed coffee, a few stuffed brown baby bears sitting on one table and some literature about this organisation. She also provided the group with a box of tissues. Sunil and I went there but we were unable to tell our story. The group leader or coordinator talked to us about her own loss and then a few more people walked in and started sharing the stories of their losses. I just sat there and cried. I was so numb and my husband was so angry. By the end of the evening we were able to tell the few people who were there our story. It was a disjointed jumbled version of what happened and I knew that many did not even understand what we were saying. But they all sat patiently listening and shedding tears. This was our only outing during the first few months of our loss. The one place we could go and vent. So we did. We went month after month till everyone heard Akul's story and they all started talking about "Akul" and not "your baby."
This month our meeting was very special. October meetings are memorial meetings. The Empty cradles website reads,
"This is one of the most important and moving meetings of the year…a time to remember, reflect and connect with your beloved baby(ies). We’d like to invite you to share with others at the meeting the various ways that you have memorialized your baby(ies). Perhaps you have a memory album, pictures, a poem, a quilt, a box, special mementos or some other cherished items that helps you to remember and keep your baby’s spirit alive. Please bring any memorial items that you would like to share to the October meeting and join us for our candle lighting memorial."
We went and sat in a circle. We had the option of reading poems from a book they provided us, or reading something we wrote ourselves for our babies. I read something I had written for Akul. It was really hard to read it but I was honoring my son. I had to do it. I also took Akul's baby boy album and a little diary I write which is entitled "Letters to My Son." We were given cards and we had to write messages for our babies which were read as we lit candles for them. After lighting a candle we were asked to pick up a rose from the bunch of roses arranged in a vase and return to the table with our rose. I chose a white rose because I associate Akul with white roses. We had a little break from teh ceremonies and during this time we were able to share our babies pictures and items we had brought with us.
This month I also decided to start volunteering and went for the "Empty Cradles" volunteer meeting. I think about Akul every day, almost all the time. However my time at my support group meeting is always special and it is something for me to look forward to. We smile, talk and reach out for the box of tissues that occupies a very important place in our monthly meeting. If you can spare a minute, visit their website. The section on internet resources has helped me in the past.
http://www.emptycradle.org/
Saturday, October 3, 2009
Time Stands Still
Today I went to the hospital for an appointment. As I was entering the main door, I saw a proud dad standing, car seat in one hand and a boppy pillow in the other. Next to him was a nurse whose hands were full of new born things. My thoughts went running to the day I left the hospital, empty handed, defeated, old and tired. Ofcourse I cried as I entered the hospital. Then as I sat waiting for my turn to see the doctor, I saw a mother with a little baby in a car seat. The baby looked at me and smiled. She must be about the same age as what Akul would have been were he with me today. She had beautiful golden brown skin, laughing dark brown eyes and chubby cheeks. I was totally mesmerized. I could totally see my little son in her. The only difference was that she was a girl. I felt the distance I had walked from outside the hospital to the doctor's waiting room was the distance time had travelled from February 16th of this year to today. The only problem was that I had not moved. I am still standing outside the hospital empty handed and tearful, waiting for my ride home.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Touched by an Angel
"A life is not measured by the number of days, months or years that it is lived, but by the effect that life has on other people who touch it.It is not measured by the length of its days or the height of its achievements, but by the breadth of its influence."
I read this on another angel baby mom's website. I reflected. If I measure the length of Akul's life on the basis of this, my beautiful Akul has definitely lived a very very long life in the eight month he spent in my womb and the three days he spent in our arms. Before I had Akul, I did not know what the love of a child was - The love of a child who is silently growing in a mother's womb. During pregnancy, I could feel his butterfly kisses purify my insides. His soft fluttering kicks made me bloom with joy. I was radiant with love and my eyes softly mirrored my motherhood. I loved having Akul with me. He changed me completely. I was totally oblivious to the outside world. It was as if everything lost its importance and he became the focus of my life. I ate oranges because he liked them, I had frozen vanilla flavored yoghurt because that is what Akul wanted, I listened to the kind of music that made him kick in joy, and I fought with Sunil because he did not talk to his son enough. I argued that Akul would not recognise his voice when he came out of my womb. We planned Akul's entire life and fought over everything. Sunil said he wanted Akul to be a doctor and I said that my son would have the freedom to decide what he wanted to be. Sunil and I went for morning walks and we argued all the way home. I used to tell my husband that his son is going to be his carbon copy - stubborn and bull headed just like him. I warned him that the two of them would get into big fights. Sunil always asked whose side I would take if that happened and I would say that I will walk out and let the two of them handle their disagreements. So before we even had Akul, we were playing make believe and pretending he was here with us, that he was a baby and we were teaching him things and then he was a teen and was getting into big fights with dad....and Sunil always said "you will make him a mama's boy."
Then, on February 13 this year, Akul came into my arms. I looked at his beautiful round eyes and finely boned face in awe. He was so beautiful and so perfect. I started believeing in miracles. I could not even imagine something so amazing being formed within me. I became a mom. I saw my husband go crazy with joy. He just stood there and called just about anyone and proudly told the world about his gorgeous son. Akul made us so proud and ecstatically happy.
And on February 13th he was put into my arms again. Just taken off life support he did not have much life left in him. I held my life close to my heart. I could not believe my own strength - both physical and mental. How can a woman who has had surgery a day before hold a baby all day and all night? How can a mother live after her baby passes away in her own arms? I did both. I guess I am very very strong and this strength of mine is my cross to bear during this life time. I am strong so I live - hopeless but functioning.
After Akul I have changed in subtle ways. My heart is softer and my words kinder. Nothing is important enough to warrant my attention for a prolonged period of time and I value every child. I feel each child is such a miracle. I remember many months ago, when I was pregnant with Akul, I had asked my students what was the most dangerous thing they had ever done. My Japanese student told me the most dangerous thing he had ever done was to be born. I laughed as did the rest of the class. Akul's life and death have taught me that that is indeed the most dangerous thing a fragile little child can ever do. So I value all babies. Also, as we journey this childless road, my husband and I have become more spiritual and have made God an important part of our lives.
Akul has changed the two people who love him unconditionally. Even though he spent such little time with us, his life has impacted us like no other. He has put himself in a place where he will never be punished or reprimanded by his parents. Our parenting will only be one of loving him and weeping for him every day of our lives.
I read this on another angel baby mom's website. I reflected. If I measure the length of Akul's life on the basis of this, my beautiful Akul has definitely lived a very very long life in the eight month he spent in my womb and the three days he spent in our arms. Before I had Akul, I did not know what the love of a child was - The love of a child who is silently growing in a mother's womb. During pregnancy, I could feel his butterfly kisses purify my insides. His soft fluttering kicks made me bloom with joy. I was radiant with love and my eyes softly mirrored my motherhood. I loved having Akul with me. He changed me completely. I was totally oblivious to the outside world. It was as if everything lost its importance and he became the focus of my life. I ate oranges because he liked them, I had frozen vanilla flavored yoghurt because that is what Akul wanted, I listened to the kind of music that made him kick in joy, and I fought with Sunil because he did not talk to his son enough. I argued that Akul would not recognise his voice when he came out of my womb. We planned Akul's entire life and fought over everything. Sunil said he wanted Akul to be a doctor and I said that my son would have the freedom to decide what he wanted to be. Sunil and I went for morning walks and we argued all the way home. I used to tell my husband that his son is going to be his carbon copy - stubborn and bull headed just like him. I warned him that the two of them would get into big fights. Sunil always asked whose side I would take if that happened and I would say that I will walk out and let the two of them handle their disagreements. So before we even had Akul, we were playing make believe and pretending he was here with us, that he was a baby and we were teaching him things and then he was a teen and was getting into big fights with dad....and Sunil always said "you will make him a mama's boy."
Then, on February 13 this year, Akul came into my arms. I looked at his beautiful round eyes and finely boned face in awe. He was so beautiful and so perfect. I started believeing in miracles. I could not even imagine something so amazing being formed within me. I became a mom. I saw my husband go crazy with joy. He just stood there and called just about anyone and proudly told the world about his gorgeous son. Akul made us so proud and ecstatically happy.
And on February 13th he was put into my arms again. Just taken off life support he did not have much life left in him. I held my life close to my heart. I could not believe my own strength - both physical and mental. How can a woman who has had surgery a day before hold a baby all day and all night? How can a mother live after her baby passes away in her own arms? I did both. I guess I am very very strong and this strength of mine is my cross to bear during this life time. I am strong so I live - hopeless but functioning.
After Akul I have changed in subtle ways. My heart is softer and my words kinder. Nothing is important enough to warrant my attention for a prolonged period of time and I value every child. I feel each child is such a miracle. I remember many months ago, when I was pregnant with Akul, I had asked my students what was the most dangerous thing they had ever done. My Japanese student told me the most dangerous thing he had ever done was to be born. I laughed as did the rest of the class. Akul's life and death have taught me that that is indeed the most dangerous thing a fragile little child can ever do. So I value all babies. Also, as we journey this childless road, my husband and I have become more spiritual and have made God an important part of our lives.
Akul has changed the two people who love him unconditionally. Even though he spent such little time with us, his life has impacted us like no other. He has put himself in a place where he will never be punished or reprimanded by his parents. Our parenting will only be one of loving him and weeping for him every day of our lives.
Monday, September 21, 2009
Friendships
Christy, at "almost a mother" and Kristy at "I love you to the moon and back", nominated me for an award! It is the Friendship Award! Thank you for thinking of me!
Ok, so here are the rules:
"This award is bestowed on to blogs that are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to six bloggers who must choose six more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award."
I want to pick each and every baby lost mom but I cannot. Some of you have already been given this award and I know eventually you will all get it because you are the best support group anyone could wish for. The six people I pick for this award are:
Mirne @ http://freyja-kees-lovedsomuch.blogspot.com/2009/09/raw-pain.html
Beth @ http://safeinthishouse.blogspot.com/2009/09/biltmore.html
Ezra's mom @ http://ezramalik.blogspot.com/2009/09/22-weeks-6-days-staying-present-in-joy.html
bir @ http://allthelittleponies.blogspot.com/2009/09/candles-for-jet.html
Malory @ http://mommyofanangel09.blogspot.com/2009/09/mothers-love-does-not-forget.html
Karen @ http://busyhandsbc.blogspot.com/
I know that Mirne is taking a break from the world of blogs. I also see that her blog is not accessible any more. But I still want to give her this friendship award. When I fist started blogging I was a confused broken dead baby mom. Mirne always commented on all my posts and supported me. Her not being in the world of blogs does not change that, so she is included in this friendship award. Bree, I did think about you but you got the award from Nan.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
Posts
