Compiled
by Kota Discussion Group
In Honor and Loving
Memory of Our Children
This column will hopefully
become a regular feature
here at KotaPress. Its content
is generated from an online
discussion and support group
for bereaved parents. The
creator of this Grief Journey
Q & A is Stephanie Marrotek
who posts questions once
a day or every other day
and invites all members
of the discussion group
to post answers. In addition
to answering on the group,
so members have elected
to share their insights
in a more public way through
this column. Our hope is
that you will find some
spark of inspiration or
comfort or help here. These
words are not offered as
prescription for the ways
we "should" handle
grief. These are just insights
into how others are managing
day by day after the death
of a child.
If I could walk
into a magical angelic room
for an hour today and my
child would be there...
if they could speak with
us and understand everything
we say... what would be
the one thing that we'd
want to say to them before
they leave again forever?
I would say this to my Son:
"I love you, Charles...I've
loved you from the moment
I gave birth to you.
I'm sorry that I got into
that vehicle accident...I'm
sorry my seat belt wasn't
positioned safely to protect
you from death. I'm sorry
I wasn't aware of my pregnancy.
I wish so much that things
could have been different.
I never wanted you to die.
I want to be a Mom to you
in every aspect of the definition.
I want to wake up every
morning and spend my whole
day with you...take trips
to the park
and zoo...bake cookies...play
games...read books...spend
time together. I want to
teach you all the things
you need and want to know
in life. I miss you so much.
I only wish we could have
had this lifetime together.
I know we'll be together
again someday in Heaven,
but until then, I'll miss
you & ache to hold you
in my arms." -From
Katie
If I could be with our
heavenly children for
just a moment, I would
simply tell them each
that I will love them
forever. Holding them
would be pure heaven...their
touch, their physical
touch....ahhh, someday,
someday!!! -From Martha
I would say I LOVE YOU,
a million times. -From Stephanie
The one thing I would
want to say is that "
I love you Nora, loved
you from the moment I
knew you were with me
and have never stopped
loving you, I will love
you forever. You are a
part of my heart."
-From Christine
I would tell Tyler that
I love him very much and
that I'm sorry I didn't
hold him and spend more
time with him. I would also
tell him that he will always
be a huge part of my life
and I will not give in to
the silence of stillbirth
imposed on me by society.
I'll be a loud mouth until
I can meet him again in
heaven. -From Kim
I would apologize to
Kota for not seeing and
holding him. I would try
desperately to explain
why I chose to not do
those things at the time.
I would ask him what color
his eyes are!!!! I would
ask him to forgive me
for being such a crappy
mom that I couldn't even
bring him here safely
and then that I didn't
even see him. I would
tell him that I know different
things now, and if I had
to do it over, I would
have definitely done it
differently. I would want
to just hold his hand
for a few moments. -From
K.
: Who is the one
person, thus far that has
been most helpful in your
healing journey? Tell why.
The one person who is the
most helpful to me is my
younger sister, Kimberly.
She has never had a baby,
or lost one. But she seems
to understand on a level
that no one else does. It
could be because she was
there when Amanda was stillborn
and she held her and wept
over her.....it could be
because she is just a very
sensitive person. It could
be because I feel I can
be completely honest with
her and she will still love
me....whatever the reason....Kimberly
has been my biggest support.
She remembers Amanda's birthday
and special days, and sends
me encouraging emails and
cards. She tells me that
she misses Amanda too, and
what a difference that she
made on her life. When I
am upset about it and depressed,
she seems to understand
in a way that no one else
can. And she listens! That
is one of the biggest helps,
someone who listens without
judging or trying to fix
it. At Christmas time, she
remembers and does not try
to ever change the subject
when I need to talk about
her. She recognizes that
there is an empty spot in
our family and that no one
will ever fill it. At times
when I am down and do not
tell her why, she knows.
And she just encourages
me so much! I thank God
for my little sister, she
has never experienced a
loss and I pray that she
never will, but she is the
one person who has helped
me to work thru issues that
I couldn't alone. I sure
do love that sister of mine!!!
-From Stephanie
The one person who has
been most helpful in my
healing journey was an
e-mail buddie of mine
from Texas who's daughter
was stillborn just a few
months before Tyler was
stillborn. She validated
my pain every step of
the way. I don't know
what I would have done
without her! -From Kim
The one person who has
been most helpful in my
healing journey has been
my best friend Rachel. She
never once has faltered,
she has been completely
understanding and always
there for me. She treats
Nora as one of my children,
never forgetting a special
moment I had with her. She
has sent articles to me,
remembrances, cards every
month, she has been amazing.
She is my last before Nora
friend and I treasure having
her in my life. I can tell
her anything and she listens
and understands and just
"holds my hand"
since we live 900 miles
away.... but I am blessed
to have her in my life,
and I truly feel I would
have never made it without
her. - From Christine
Jermaine...my backbone,
my lover, my best friend,
my angel's father has
kept me together even
when he was falling apart.
He took care of me through
my pregnancy which I was
sick and hospitalized
(the majority of it) and
then when we lost Raeyn.
I have to say that I've
learned to lean alot on
my faith. -From Keny
The one person, thus far
that has been most helpful
in my healing journey is
Michie. I called Neo Fight
a week after my loss, desperate
for someone to talk to that
understands. Within ten
minutes of leaving a message
on the Neo Fight 24 Hour
crisis line pager, Michie
returned my call. We spoke
for two hours. She was the
first person, that I felt
comfortable talking to about
Charles, and she was the
first person to truly understand.
Her Son was stillborn, too.
She has been amazing support
and the greatest of friends,
since my loss. If I hadn't
found Michie, I wouldn't
have received the support
that I so desperately needed
after my loss. I will always
be grateful for not only
her kindness & continuous
support, but also for her
understanding and caring
friendship. If there's anyone
on this Earth that deserves
an award or acknowledgment
for all the care and love
one has for others, that
person is Michie. Thank
you, Michie, for everything!
All the hugs in the world
couldn't repay Michie for
all she has given of herself!
-From Katie
When asked "How
many children do you have?"
How do you reply?
I'm a total masocist about
this one. When people blindly
ask, most of the time, I
just come right out and
say, "Hawk & I
have a son together who
died at birth." It
gives me a perverse pleasure
to be able to know if I
want people around me or
not, immediately, because
in reply to this they will
either:
1) Sputter, change subject,
walk away, whatever -- in
which case I know not to
waste my time.
OR
2) They actually meet my
eye and reveal some loss
of their own or ask me questions
about Kota. And then I know
investment of time with
this person will not be
a waste.
It's a blunt litmus test.
But I must also admit that
sometimes, I just don't
have the energy. At those
times, I just say no or
don't answer or tell them
about Hawk's living kids
and let it go.
-From K.
I say I have 2- Charlie
is 5 and he is our earth
angel and Amanda would
be 3 had she lived, but
she is living in Heaven
with Jesus now. -From
Stephanie
I reply I have three children,
two on earth and one in
heaven, and if they ask
I tell them my baby died.
I do not share about the
other three that were lost
to miscarriage, they hold
a special place in my
heart, but don't feel like
being offended... I feel
bad about this, and in time,
this may change. But it
has been 7 years since I
lost the three and didn't
even acknowledge them until
last year... Nora
was a learning experience
which taught me about grief
and how to grieve .... -
From Christine
I only say two, but I
feel guilty every single
time! I guess I try and
justify this by the question
I really do only HAVE
two children with me,
my third is with Jesus.
In my heart I always say
to myself I have three.
I don't tend to share
Montana with people until
I get to know them as
friends. What worries
me is that our two girls
pick up on this and I
have noticed that when
Maddison now draws pictures
of our family she is not
including Montana any
more. Really not sure
how to handle this! -From
Steve
I have gotten used to saying
that I have 3 living children.
Sometimes I will get a wierd
look and then the change
of a subject other times
people want to know more
and I don't have a problem
telling them about Tyler.
-From Kim
This is a difficult question
for me to answer. It depends
who is asking me the question,
and it depends on how
I feel at that moment.
My only child, Charles,
was stillborn. I haven't
had any other children,
since my loss. Due to
the circumstances of my
loss in not knowing that
I was even pregnant until
I gave birth meant that
everyone who knew me at
that time didn't know
either. It took me a long
time to crawl out of my
'safe bubble' to share
Charles with others. Mostly,
I will tell other bereaved
parents that I have one
child, A Son, and he's
in Heaven. My closest
friends and some family
know about Charles, too,
and I will always refer
to him as my Son. He may
not be physically here,
but he'll always be my
child. If a stranger asks,
I usually reply, "I
have one child...he would
have been 4 in November
this year, but he was
stillborn." And I
don't tell all strangers/acquantainces,
just the ones I feel comfortable
in sharing. As I walk
more into my journey of
grief, I have learned
to share Charles more
with others. Or sometimes
say this, "I have
no living children."
Then if someone asks,
I share Charles. And if
not, then I don't offer
any information. -From
Katie
In all honesty, it depends
upon whom I am speaking
when the question arises.
I try hard to acknowledge
our four babies in heaven,
if it seems to "fit"
the scene. Usually I respond,
"We have eight children."
To which people usually
say, "God bless you",
either with smiles or sulky
incredulity and if the response
is positive, I will generally
add and four in heaven...
I will NEVER forget the
occasion of being at my
first bereavement-facilitator-training
and I met this one woman
(who was a nun) and she
asked how many children
we had, and I responded
the easy answer...and knowing
the area of our support
group, she then asked if
we had experienced any losses....and
I said, "yes, four..."
To which she responded,
Martha, you don't have eight
children, you have twelve.
(tears, here...) Needless
to say, I love this nun
to this day!!!
Actually, this wonderful
woman was also the catalyst
to getting our support network
started. It was from a Memorial
Mass 4years ago, acknowledging
the grief of families who
had a pregnancy/infant
loss... that a "core
group" was begun and
here we are 3 years later.
Haven't seen that "core
group" in awhile, but
our GAPS group is strong
nonetheless! :) Heavenly
connections, I like to call
these.
Sister is very busy in a
large parish with all forms
of bereavement support and
she has been a constant
companion to so many families
since the WTC tragedy (only
miles from her parish),
so we don't see her often,
but is part of the fabric
of our group. She continues
to coordinate the Mass each
year...always increasing
awareness and educating
the clergy as well. She's
an angel, and I'm blessed
to know and love her! Thanks
for listening!
- From Martha
I can't believe
that people ask me have
I gotten over you. I want
to get over the pain, but
I never want to get over...
This has always seem like
the dumbest question people
ask. I am a parent. If my
child were living, would
you ask me if I have gotten
over my child yet? No. So
why are you asking me if
I'm over my child who is
dead. While my parenthood
may manifest differently
because my child is dead,
I am still a parent -- always
well be. So I have gotten
over the huge bouts of pain
-- though I still sting
with I see four year olds
who look something like
you might have -- I have
not, and will not ever,
get over the fact that I
am a parent. And with that
in mind, I'll continue to
be a "different kind
of parent" for the
rest of my life. Though
the manifestation and expression
is different, I am like
any other parent, and our
kids are our kids forever.
-From K.
I NEVER want to "get
over" the joy of
being pregnant with each
of our Little Ones...
the excitement of new
life within me, the gift
of life in our family.
I will always be my babies
'Mommy....and I will never
"get over" that
treasured part of my life.
I believe that they are
each distinct wonderful
heavenly souls...and there
is no "getting over"
that! Just try me!! -From
Martha
I can't believe that people
ask me have I gotten over
you. I want to get over
the pain, but I never want
to get over... the love
deep in my heart for you.....the
memory of holding your tiny
form....the feeling of giving
birth to you......and the
joy that I had when I was
pregnant with you.....I
never want to get over the
pain of losing you, for
I cherish the pain, it reminds
me of what I lost. -From
Stephanie
I can't believe that
people ask me have I gotten
over you. I want to get
over the pain, but I never
want to get over you.
I will never forget you,
I will never stop loving
you, you will always be
a part of me , I never
want to forget a single
memory, good or bad of
my brief time I spent
with you. Even if I had
the opportunity to go
back and do it again,
knowing the outcome, I
would, just so I could
be with you again...I
love you Nora and no one,
nothing, time can never
change this...I will never
be over you...for that
would mean I have stopped
loving you and that will
never happen. -From Christine
Sometimes late
at night, when I lay awake
and can't sleep; I think
about...
All the places I have been
before, not locations, but
spots in Life. About Amanda,
and the difference she has
made on my life. I plan
the next day's events and
menu. And sometimes I think
of regrets ... and then
realize that I am happy
here where I am, I have
all I NEED, the rest is
just WANTS. -From Stephanie
I think about what would
have been...What our family's
life would be like without
the losses of our babies...Also,
WHY, oh WHY!!! do so many
babies have to die????
And who is taking care
of all these bereaved
families? And I wonder
if I am making a "drop
in the bucket" of
tears...Then I remember
what Mother Teresa said
in an interview, when
asked something akin to
"how can you possibly
take care of all the poor
and sick?" and she
wisely said "One
person at a time"....enough
said! -From Martha
My Son, Charles, and the
life that could have been.
I think about the things
we've missed out on already
and the things that have
yet to come. Things that
will be missed like his
first day of school and
all his firsts that will
never be experienced. I
lay awake in a silent house
knowing and feeling that
my precious child isn't
with me. It's not only an
empty house, but an empty
feeling. It's too quiet
and too still. And when
I can finally fall asleep,
I sometimes dream of the
life that should have been.
-From Katie
Sometimes late at night,
when I lay awake and can't
sleep; I think about...
all the things I haven't
done yet, about all the
bereaved parents out there
who feel alone and isolated,
about all the children
who have died too soon.
I get frustrated because
there is so much I want
to do. And yet I continually
get caught up in the "making-the-ends-meet"
game where we are just
scrambling with all this
meaningless work to just
keep a roof. And then
I see documentaries about
films like Frida and hear
that it took Selma Hayek
8 years to get that film
made, but she kept at
it, she didn't compromise,
she stayed focused on
what she wanted for the
heart and soul of that
story until it was done.
And I should be inspired,
but instead I am more
frustrated with myself
because I'm not sure I
have that kind of focus
and conviction for fulfilling
the legacy my son's life
and death left for me.
Sometimes late at night
when I can't sleep, I
think that I really should
get a prescription for
sleeping pills so I can
just get some rest :)
but also those are the
times when ideas come
to me. Ideas for how to
get my words out there
-- we own a press, but
I have four books done
with no way to fund printing
them BUT late at night
I thought about doing
the layout for them anyway
and processing them as
ebooks instead of print!!
*That* I could fund right
away. So...
I think about the work...I
wonder if there is enough
time to finish everything
I have started -- or to
start everything I've
thought of... I know that
every second is a gift
and that death can come
for us at any moment.
And so, until then, I'm
sleepless with thoughts
of the work to be done.
-From K.
It helps me to
feel better when I...
Share with other bereaved
families who have lost a
baby.
Call my Dear Friend, Michie.
Give a hug to my Mom or
ask for one.
Post at Kota Group.
Write some poetry or write
in my journal.
Work on Charles' memory
album (a life long project).
Or do something in his memory.
Take a scenic drive alone
or with my Mom.
Go spoil myself at the beauty
salon if my pocket book
allows that.
Sometimes I visit the Garden
of Angels at St. Francis
South Campus in Indianapolis
where I planted Charles'
Peace Rose. Truly a breath
of fresh air to sit in the
garden, journal and clear
my head.
-From Katie
it helps me feel better
when people acknowledge
that Nora is indeed a
baby... a real loss...
my third child, my daughter,
when they reach out to
me with love and comfort
and concern. -From Christine
It helps me to feel better
when I reach out to fellow
bereaved families with bereavement
support and care...in all
your names. It helps me
to feel better to take time....to
spend time with you, with
each of you, to remember,
to write, to devote time
to loving you and to always
remember...I'll love you
forever! -From Martha
It helps me to feel better
when I take good care
of myself to be sure I'm
getting enough sleep (hardly
ever though!), not eating
a lot of sugar, getting
plenty of water, and making
sure I at least get outside
once a day! But after
all that, I still have
days when I just plain
old miss my kid. And at
those times, the only
thing that makes me feel
better is to kabitz with
other bereaved parents.
They are the only ones
who fully appreciate the
breadth and deepth of
life-after-the-death-of-a-child.
-From Anon
I think I miss
you most when...
I wake up in the morning
to a quiet house.
I visit with friends and
family knowing you should
be there, too.
I'm with my friends who
have children around your
age.
I play with my kitty knowing
you should be playing with
him, too.
I take road trips with my
Mom, I feel you should be
with us!
It's such an empty feeling
to know you aren't here.
I wake up from the most
beautiful dream of you and
realizing it was just a
dream.
I miss you all the time,
Charles! You're forever
loved!
-From Katie
I think I miss you most
when...I see little brown
haired, brown eyed girls
with purple dresses on
and pigtails in their
hair....and I think, that
should be MINE! -From
Stephanie
I think I miss you most
when I watch your brother
and sister playing together,
holding hands when they
walk, having quiet whisper
talks. I miss you most when
I am brushing your sister's
hair wondering what color
your hair would have been,
how long it would have been.
I miss you most in the still
of the night and the brand
new morning. I miss you
most on quiet days.... I
just miss you. -From Christine
Lily, I think I miss
you most when I see your
daddy playing with your
brothers, chasing them
and making them laugh
until their little bellies
ache and they are out
of breath and I think...what
a wonderful life you would
have had, what wonderful
big brothers you have,
what a big hole there
is in our family now.
-Melanie
I see a blonde or brown
eyed girl or boy who is
either 9, 6 or almost 4
years old....and I wonder
what you might be... When
I see a newborn, full of
innocence, the sweet smell
of babies... When I reach
out to another bereaved
family, feeling once again,
the sting of loss, asking
you all to guide your Mommy
to help... ALWAYS!!!! -From
Martha
When I see other four
year olds and see all
the things I'm missing
with you. Or when I see
your stepsister with her
baby or any other sleep-deprived
parents who are dealing
with the day to day, dirty
diapers, feeding schedules,
leaking breast milk, stuffed
diaper bag, stroller that
won't open, screaming
in the middle of the night,
teething that has no comfort
-- and I realize how much
we didn't get to do with
you. And then there are
all the events and sunsets
and cool stones at the
beach and sweet ducklings
and a million other things
we never got to show you.
Basically it just sucks
all the time without you.
-From K.
I visited your
grave or memorial site today...
W we took pictures of your
resting plavce and put flowers
on your marker. Charlie
found some pretty pebbles
and arranged them around
your name, almost like he
could read it....I straightened
the cross that my Dad, your
Papa, made for you, and
tightened the ribbons on
the wreath I made.....I
wept for the promise lost,
and your Daddy comforted
me. When we left, we were
silent and somber...all
thinking of the girl who
never got to be. -From Stephanie
I visited your grave
... it was so hot.. your
flowers are starting to
wilt so we heavily watered
them. We sat there staring
at your headstone.. noticed
the rainbow on your headstone
was fading. Thinking about
having that retouched...Corey
and Abby gave you kisses..they
argued over who can take
care of the grass around
your stone. It sometimes
brings a smile to my face
in a bittersweet way...
still the sibling thing
no matter where you are...you
are a constant presence.
Each of them wanted to
spend some alone time
with you, as they always
do, talking to you, sharing
with you. I gave you a
kiss...looked up at the
sky...sent lots of love.
wished you were here...
Abby sang you a song..
Corey just let tears roll
down his cheeks...they
both miss you so much.
We all miss you.
-love mommy
I don't have to go far
to visit you as I have your
cremains in an urn resting
on a table in my bedroom.
You're surrounded by teddy
bears. When I need to escape
the craziness of life, I'll
also visit your memorial
site...The Garden of Angels.
I seek peace and solace
there. I find comfort there.
There a
breeze presses into me,
and I wonder if you're sending
me a hug! -From Katie
Though we don't have
a specific memorial site
as such, I visit my gardens
each day (sometimes several
times a day!) and marvel
at the growth and beauty
of the baby rosebuds and
the beautiful buttercups...and
I remember you all...loving
your beauty. I am at peace
and filled with your love....
-From Martha
Your urn is on a stand
next to my side of the bed
surrounded by dried flowers
from your funeral, your
bank full of those cool
quarters, stuffed animals,
a few things with your birthstone,
the big sign of your name
that uncle meko had made,
artwork your daddy did for
you, the womb book i made
that has your name and info
in it, and some other things.
I look at your things a
lot. Contemplate them as
I'm going to sleep. Am thrilled
to have them as tangible
reminders of you each morning.
Your daddy, too, looks at
those things sometimes.
But most others simply ignore
you are even there. I don't
care about that anymore
though. It is my private
time and place to be with
you. -From K.
This is a discussion and
support group held online
thru the free services of
Yahoo Groups. Stephanie
Marrotek is the host of
the Grief Journey Q &
A. The full group is moderated
by the staff of KotaPress.
The answers given in this
Q & A were offered by
the generous hearts of the
members of our online group.
We cannot thank you enough
for your candor and honesty.
|