shattered glass

We have been getting ready for Christmas and the season has been filled with all the usual traditions of baking cookies, parties, Christmas music and movies, and decorations. We also started a new tradition of going to a nearby town's Christmas parade.  I started that by accident--last year I convinced Pat that we should all go since I thought going to a parade would be fun.  It was ok and I didn't plan to bring it up this year.  But the boys brought it up and were adamant that we all needed to go.  It was freezing that day, literally in the teens, and we lasted about halfway before they were ready to go.  Overall the season has been filled with laughter and good family time which is exactly what we wanted this year.

Yesterday we went to the hospital where Sarah lived to bring some beautiful dresses that many have made for their bereavement program.  We had a chance to talk with a nurse who holds a special place in our hearts since she very lovingly gave us a dress on Sarah's last day.  She explained how helpful these dresses are since there are approximately 200 families a year who say goodbye to their little ones.  She is expanding the bereavement program at the hospital to be more than just mementos and to include bereavement training for staff to better support families who are losing someone.  Our heart is in this program that supports families because we cherish the kind words and gestures the staff gave us. We regularly look at the pictures, blanket, teddy bear and other mementos they gave us.

I have been reflecting over the past year and how different it is from last Christmas.  We were still in a fog, focused on getting through the holidays and didn't really enjoy them.  This year has been so full of joy.  I'm thankful that so many gifts we often take for granted such as laughter, smiles, and dreaming are back in our lives.

The other day, a friend was talking with me about a friend of her's who had just lost a baby prematurely. She wondered what she could do to help.  The best analogy I thought of is this--Our life before had been like a glass vase but when she died it was as if the glass had been shattered.  When we lost Sarah we also lost all the dreams we had for her and for our family.  We had looked forward to knowing her, seeing the relationships form with her brothers, and growing as a family. The past year we have been picking up the pieces and putting them back together knowing that the vase will never look the same again.   Who I am today, who our family is today, is not who we were sixteen months ago.

What can you do to support someone who has lost a child?  Know that you can't fix it or make it better.  Nothing can--our lives will forever be different because of what we experienced.  You can help the person pick up the pieces, help them sort through the emotions and figure out what the "new normal" is.  Ask parents questions about how they are, acknowledge difficult anniversaries, don't shy away from us.  Yes, we may cry, but love us enough to give us safe space to do that.  Others' presence as well as mementos help the healing process.  Some loving co-workers and another family gave us gifts of flowers so that each spring when they bloom we will remember Sarah. And we will remember their love and support of us as well.

Its the small gestures of support that mean a lot to families going through this process.  Yesterday, we learned how special the dress fund has been.  We really had no idea so many of you would support it, and we are grateful that those gifts are bringing comfort to grieving families.

Thanks for being on this journey with us and for helping us put the pieces back together.

Merry Christmas!