Grief Journey Q & A, Pt. XI
Compiled by Kota Discussion Group

In Honor and Loving Memory of Our Children

Editor's Intro:
The creator of this Grief Journey Q & A was Stephanie Marrotek; the current coordinator is Poppy Hullings who posts questions once a day or week or month and invites all members of our online discussion & support group to post answers. Some answer only to the group, some members have elected to share their insights in a more public way through this column as well. 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.

The Q & A

*please note: some of these questions are from the Support Card deck from GriefWatch*

Question: Michael McClure wrote: "We are the hurdles that we leap to be ourselves."  What hurdles have you had to jump since your child died and how has the jumping shaped who you are now?


Christine: The hurdles I have had to jump was the abandonment by family which I never expected. Jumping that hurdle has made me realize that it doesn't matter what anyone thinks or what they do, it only matters what I feel and do and my choices are my own, no one, not even family has the right to take that away from me. It was their choice to leave, it was not my fault, so in a way it has made me a stronger person.

Stephanie: One of the biggest hurdles for me is the fact that I have no control over my life. Before Amanda Joy died, I thought I had it all under control, and all was going well. Then WHAM she dies, and everything went straight to hell. It took awhile for me to realize this, but since I have recognized it and accepted the fact that I am not it control, it is easier to just say, well, it's out of my control. And then I get to blame someone else, not me!!! Hehe, I am evil! The shaping of who I am now.....well since she died, I have had to become a completely new person. I am not the niave, brave, person I used to be. Now I am a bit more timid, afraid to tell people about her at times, because of how they react, other times I am so brave it scares me. But I am not the person I was before at all.

Katie: There are so many hurdles that I've had to jump for which I can write a novel on.  I'm only going to discuss one hurdle though.  It is the hurdle of being a single bereaved parent.  Losing Charles was the most difficult experience of my life.  Finding my kindred soul to share my son, my grief, and the life long journey of my healing and heartache has been the second most difficult experience of my life.  Both experiences continue to be a struggle at times and continue to shape my life.  The idea of death especially the death of a baby tends to scare eligible bachelors away.  It takes a special person to completely accept another person.  I hate the term baggage!  I have been told by many exboyfriends that I have too much baggage with the death of my son, so they dump me.  They can't handle supporting me and accepting the loss of my son as being a part of my life forever.  It has been a journey that often feels never ending in seeking out that special someone that will accept me completely, accept my life, and accept my son.  I hope one day I will find that special man that gives unconditional love, care, compassion and friendship.


Question: Do you have a favorite quote that you discovered after your child died -- something that gives you comfort or gives some sense of meaning or makes you feel less alone?  Please include a credit for who wrote/said the quote.


Christine: "Grief work is like a ball of string. You start with an end and wind. Then the ball slips through your fingers and rolls across the floor. Some of your work is undone, but not all. You pick it up and start over again, but you never have to begin again at the end of the string. The ball never completely unwinds. You`ve made some progress." ~Author Unknown

Stephanie: "The most beautiful stones have been tossed by the wind and washed by the waters and polished to brilliance by life's strongest storms." ~Unknown

I'd like to think that this grief journey is making me stronger, and more beautiful as a person. That I will be a rock to others who need support in their darkest hours, and that I will be able to withstand any and all of life's trials in a way that shows others what faith really is.

Katie: The following has always given me comfort, meaning and a sense that I'm not alone in my grief.  An excerpt from Different Kind of Parenting, a zine for parents whose children have died:

"Sometimes the Autumn season makes you tender with yourself on those days when the cool weather and changing leaves make you sad. Pull on a warm sweater, make a cup of tea, sit in a comfortable chair, and look out the window-- be mindful of how bulbs planted in October turn into beautiful flowers in the Spring."


Question: What frightens you most about this whole experience (death of a child, living life after the death of a child)?


Christine: Death can sneak in at any moment which I was completely naive about. I thought I was in my "safe" time of the pregnancy, I was full-term. That wasn't true, Nora slipped away during the night and I didn't even feel her go. That scares the hell out of me especially with my two surviving children, I am very fearful that they too will just slip away, I have no control over when death enters.

Stephanie: What frightens me the most, is how unpredictable death is. I fear alot that my living son may die at any time, or my husband or my family. Amanda's death taught me to be prepared and to never leave anything unsaid. Sometimes if I am mad at Dh, and he leaves to go to work or something, I am scared that he will die, and that our last words to each other will have been mean words. So I try real hard to always leave or have him leave with a hug and a kiss, so we both know that we love each other. It scares me to think of the deaths of other people I love.

Katie: I am most frightened by the prospect of never having the opportunity to be a loving mother to a living child whether that child is through birth or adoption. 

Question: Do you have nightmares about your experience?  If you have nightmares, how do you deal with them?


Christine: I still do have nightmares about losing Nora, I wake up and will talk with Nora and just try and push through. I imagine I will have nightmares for a very long time.

Stephanie: Yes, I used to dream alot about being lost in a cave, and hearing a baby crying and I couldn't find it. I dream of losing another baby or of something happening to Charlie. I deal with them by talking about it to friends who understand and by realizing that dreams are just our fears coming out subconsciously. I also pray alot.

Katie: I had nightmares regarding my experience for the first two years after losing Charles.  I dealt with them by writing in my private journal and sharing my experience with other bereaved parents that understand.


Question: Where are the safe places in your life where you can go and not have to pretend everything is okay?


Christine: When I am with my husband and surviving children, no matter where we are, it is always safe. Nora is a part of our life and will be forever.

Stephanie: Here at KotaPress, my sister, Amanda's grave.

Katie: My home, online with other bereaved parents, at support group meetings for MISS & Neofight, and by spending time with others that know my experience, understand my experience and support me completely.


Question: How do you answer the question, "How are you?"


Christine: This is a tough one. It would depend on who asks the question. Quite honestly, if its someone who has accepted Nora and has allowed me to talk about her over the past three years, I can answer how I truly am at the time, maybe not even mentioning Nora all of the time.. they know and love me and understand that I think of her all the time, no explanation needed. But if its someone that I struggle with, that has chosen to ignore my feelings and won't recognize Nora, I tend to pound my grief into them to make them realize that I still do hurt, that I am not over it. This must sound horrible, but it bothers me when people think I am "over it"  I guess I am trying to convey to them my true feelings until they get it.

Stephanie: Depends on who it is. If it is someone I can be honest with and who does not scare off by my pain, I tell them. If it is an aquaintance or someone I hardly know, I just say "fine, and you?"

Katie: It depends on the moment and situation.  If a stranger asks or someone I'm not close to asks, I will usually answser, "I'm okay, thank you."  If someone close to me asks that is aware of my experience I will be honest and open about how I'm feeling at that moment.


Question: Is there ever a truly joyous event after the loss of your child?


Parent 1: For me.. the answer would have to be no. I can never see any future event being completely joyous again... it will forever be shadowed by our daughter not being with us.. does this all fall into the new normal category..sometimes it feels there is not an aspect of life out there that I will not miss our daughter being in it..

Parent 2: I can't say there is for me either, at least not in the past  8-9 months since I lost my angel, when I hear of "joyous events" engagements/weddings/births it just makes me sick to my stomach, like how can something be so "joyous" when my baby girl is dead? How can other people deserve such happy endings yet me only suffering? Maybe this will go away in time? I dont know, I can't say...

Parent 3: There are times that are completely joyous to me...some of these times I do not necessarily associate with my son's birth and death.  And there are those other days that are not so joyous...

Parent 4: Ok, my answer is not really, not yet.....I have been to weddings, baby showers, births, birthday parties, etc. And there is always a part of me, a piece of me that remembers that there should be one more little girl there, that my daughter should be enjoying the day as well. And at every occasion, I have had a moment, however short, of remembering her and thinking of the might-have-been's. And now, I have another baby to add to that mental image. The child we miscarried last December. He/She would be about 3 weeks old now, had he/she lived. So, I do enjoy the occasion, but there is always a moment of recognition for me, that there are people missing.

Parent 5: There have been moments, I think.  Points in time where I'm in a situation of being "Kara the Henna Artist" where no one involved in the situation knows me as anything but the henna artist -- and I get all caught up in the henna slinging trance and find pure bliss in just the movement of paste across skin.  And it's a peaceful place for me. And then the next moment rolls along and there is a five year old boy in my booth asking why I won't do henna on kids and I'm offering him a choice of non-tox temp tats of those cute monsters and other designs and he's really sweet and wants three of them and wants one on his forehead and one on each hand and asks if I will help him put them on -- and my heart breaks. And then the next moment, six teenagers are in queue with henna questions and little drawings of their favorite band's logo and asking if I can do henna logos and being silly and loud and I'm back to slinging and in bliss again. every "present moment" is different.  for me, the trick has been to just roll with them, and not get stuck in any one moment's emotions.  i mean i'm in it long enough to really feeeeeel it and experience it, and then roll to the next.  and it's all good.  and you know, it's a "practice" in some ways -- because i've had times where i just get stuck and mire myself in something and hide under the bed for weeks.  and i just learned to give myself permission for that, too -- instead of compounding it by condemning myself about it, etc.   if any of that makes sense...


Question: The grief journey brings many emotional experiences with it.  And the emotions reach such an intensity that most are overwhelmed and bewildered by it all.  Some try to stop feeling it all for fear it will be uncontrollable and consume them.  But we learn it is uncontrollable anyway and we have to move through it, rather than be stuck in one emotion or another, in order to survive it.  Or maybe there are other ways??  Please share sometime that comes to mind about how you've experienced the following emotions during your journey so far.  Maybe a sentence or a whole paragraph per emotion/experience: Rage, Fear, Guilt, Saddness, Comfort, Safe & cared for, Shut down, Giving, Asking for help.


Rage   - At times rage has overwhelmed me.  Rage at the world.  Rage at G-d.  Rage at not being understood.  I have thrown rocks into the ocean while pretending to stone someone or something that could shatter.  I have wailed in the pre-dawn hours.  I have found that I must fully feel the rage, watch it pulse thru me, even when it is frightening to do so, otherwise the rage does not go away.  Once I feel it, throw it, scream it, then it disapates.  But it will not be denied. 

Fear   - In some ways, I have lost my fear of death, because how bad could it possible be? I mean if I die, I'll get to be where my kid is, so that's not so bad.  But I do have a heightened fear of my partner's death or of our surviving children's & grandchildren's deaths.   I also have lots of anxiety about social situation now -- more so than before Kota's death.  I think the anxiety comes from knowing that either 1) everyone will act as if I am not a parent at all or 2) an awkward situation will come up like another child my son's age or someone asking how many children we have, etc.  I'd rather be home alone or with my partner, making art, watching movies, or just doing henna one on one with someone, rather than any social situation.

Guilt   - Huge guilt.  Did not know/understand anything about PCOS when I was preggers.  When they tested for gestational diabetes and we were negative, I figured that was good enough.  No one told me about insulin testing, about other factors of PCOS.  I'm convinced that it was complications of that condition, and my ignorance about my own body, that killed Dakota.  I should have been a better mother from the start. 

Saddness   - At first the saddness was so deep, I did not think it had a bottom and I was certain I would be swallowed alive.  But again, the more I fully felt it, expressed it, the more it disapates.  It does not consume me now like it used to do.  It comes and goes.  The sight of a child Dakota's age will bring a wave of it -- a tsunami of it -- but if I just ride with it, I eventually arrive back on shore and can see the sky and sand again. 

Comfort   - Many moments of comfort have come along the way.  A piece of artwork from another bereaved parent, made just for me, about my son.  A quiet day alone with my partner, making art and laughing again.  Finding things that have the name Dakota on them.  Having people still send me mother's day cards.  Eight hours straight in the swimming pool.  A good henna exchange.  Like everything else, the comfort moments come and go.  I roll with them. 

Safe & cared for   - Many rainy days in bed with my partner, just crying or talking or sleeping.  Many great online chats via instant messanger with other bereaved parents. 

Shut down   - Yes, at first after Kota's death, I really wanted to just shut down.  It was easier than facing life without my kid.  And I still have moments when I hide under the bed with a pint of Ben n' Jerry's New York Super Fudge Chunk and just pretend the world does not exist.  But these moments come and go just as every other emotion and experience... 

Giving   - the Kindness Project idea has definitely helped on this front.  At first after Kota's death, I didn't think I'd ever be able to give anything to anyone.  Becoming homeless helped me to give lots of things away.  Rebuilding my life helped me learn to give more than just things to others.  Though in some ways, it isn't really like giving at all -- I selfishly like to give things, help, info to others.  It gives me hope, makes me reconnect to the world at large, moves me out from under my bed!

Asking for help   - Wow, this was reallllly hard to do at first.  Part of it was that I just didn't know what to ask for.  I mean I might be able to say, "help" but I couldn't tell people how they might help me.  After awhile, it got somewhat easier.  I was able to say, "help, i need a massage."  or "Help, I need to go back into therapy."  or "Help, I just need to talk."  or "Help, I don't want to make dinner alone" :)  Seriously, I was eventually able to say things like, "For this mother's day, I want to be left alone"  or "for this holiday, I want people to buy gifts for Kota that we will then donate", etc.  I'm really grateful for all the folks in my life who stuck by me thru the difficult phases when I was so frustrated at wanting help, but not knowing what I wanted. 

Rage- Rage is something I feel alot but not every day like in the beginning. In the beginning when the numbness wore off, the rage consumed me. Now Rage surfaces when I am tired of explaining my
grief to people who should damn well understand by now, or to doctors who are clueless, or to my body when I don't understand why it just couldn't have let Nora live, or being so destroyed it won't let me have more. Rage also lives when I think of the doctor that didn't listen to me when I questioned parts of my pregnancy.

Fear- I used to have a fear of death of myself, but not anymore. I realize that in death I will hopefully get to be with Nora and my other children. But I do have an intense fear that my surviving children will leave me at anytime or that Bear , my dh, will die. That fear intensified after losing Nora to the point that I scare myself with my fear of losing my other children or Bear. Sometimes I become obsessed. I also fear seeing pregnant women and newborns.. I am noticing that I am getting better with this but am always afraid of new situations where I can't predict what will happen. I fear i will get trapped with either pg women and/or newborns and I have no idea how I will react.. right now I can run really fast..but there will come a time where I won't be able to and then what? very fearful of that.

Guilt- I have much guilt that I didn't do everything possible to save Nora..I should have not trusted my doctors, I should have ran screaming from the room.. but I had so much faith they knew what was right. I don't obsess over this anymore like I used to. I think a part of me realizes that there is only so much you can do, and without the knowledge, how was I supposed to know she was going to die. I didn't.

Sadness- I think Sadness will be with me until the day I die. I am living life without all of my children, I can't imagine ever being completely happy. I always find Sadness lurking around in my mind and in my heart.

Comfort- I find comfort in the quiet of a sunrise or sunset, or a rainbow. I find comfort through my surviving children , they have so much love for Nora and that brings me comfort. I find comfort through my husband who loves Nora so much you can see it in his eyes. Sometimes I find comfort in a friend's words that just knows what to say and how to say it.

Safe & cared for- I feel safe and cared for by my husband whose arms are always open and I can always talk about Nora. Without him I would be lost. I also feel safe and cared for amongst my new friends that are post-Nora, I know they will never judge and always understand my grief or sadness.

Shut down- I feel shut down when I come up against the proverbial wall of cluelessness and complete non-understanding. In the beginning, I completely shut down, I didn't know how to do this journey, I was lost and confused but gradually after finding help, that changed. Now certain situations bring up the feeling of being shut down, ie doctors, preg women, newborns...sometimes shutting down is my only survival skill. I will gradually come back out but I have to give myself time and understanding.

Giving- I love love love to give in Nora's name, to charities or the enviroment or hospitals, anything that helps someone else. I am honored to be able to help out bereaved parents, through a phone call, email or letter.  My husband and I try and do care packages for our local hospital and keep them supplied with things for bereaved parents. Giving is a way to keep Nora's name alive, and have her not die in its a way I give to myself as well as to others. It makes me feel so good and brings me such peace to do things for others like with the Kindness project.

Asking for help- I have never had a problem asking for help, this has been true my entire life. I will reach out so many times. This was the first time in my life that I had so so much rejection from others. I asked for help until I was blue in the face, but I could only take so many phones hanging up, or doors being shut or letters going unanswered. My deepest hurt came from others who refused to help me or even listen and provide a shoulder to cry about my daughter Nora. It wasn't until I found other bereaved parents and started to network, I found true friends and once again I could ask for help. All along this journey, no matter what obstacle I come across I have these wonderful new friends who take my hand and help me cross.

Rage   - The most absolute and purely draining feeling is the energy built up by rage.  I haven't felt that for a while.  Sometimes it creeps up on me without warning even on a good day.  The very first time I experienced a rage like no other was the week I lost Charles.  I had all these emotions built up of anger, sadness, grief, fear and guilt, that they all exploded into one huge rage.  I felt like I completely lost myself...lost my marbles!  I was having the 'unsuicidal' feelings.  I screamed at my own mother begging her to kill me, because I couldn't do it myself.  I had never felt so far gone in my life.  And I hope I never hit bottom like that again.     

Fear   - I don't fear my own death, but I do fear the death of those around me.  I mean, I don't obsess about it or anything like that.  However, I did for the first year after losing Charles.  And I still hold a certain amount of fear that I will lose another loved one.  Losing Charles was the most devistating losses I've ever experienced.  I don't want to experience such devistation again...I don't want to lose another loved one so suddenly without warning. 

Guilt   - I did not know I was pregnant until I gave birth to my full term stillborn son.  I will always hold some level of guilt for not knowing my body well enough.  And I will always feel guilty for not going to the hospital right after the vehicle accident that caused a placental abruption leading to Charles' death.

Saddness   - For the first year, I was consumed with sadness...sadness that I didn't always express.  It has been almost five years now.  The sadness still comes when I hit a bump in my journey with grief; however, the sadness does not consume my life.  I have learned to practice self care during the sad moments to help me rise above it and cope.

Comfort   - I find comfort in everything I do in honor and memory of Charles.  I receive comfort through the wonderful friendships that have developed with others that walk through the journey of grief with me.  I find comfort in the Peace rose that blooms on an early winter day that I planted for Charles.  I find comfort in the monarch butterfly that flutters by me on his birthday each year in November when butterflies are no longer around in Indiana.   

Safe & cared for   - I feel safe and cared for at home snuggled up with my kitty, Tiger, watching old Cary Grant movies sipping on hot chocolate.  I feel cared for when I'm chatting with other bereaved parents whether its on the phone, in person or on line.  I feel cared for when my Mom talks to me about Charles and hugs me and tells me she understands....she lost a son, too.   

Shut down   - The first few months after losing Charles, I wanted to shut down.  I would close the drapes even on the sunny days and hide in bed...I hardly ate and slept a lot.  I haven't had the urge to completely shut down like that since the early part of my grief journey.  I do take 'time outs' to get escape from the hustle and bustle of life and to just be and feel what I want to experience. 

Giving   - Each time I give in Charles' memory, I am able to move forward with my grief journey.  I feel surrounded with love and support with each time I give my time to help another in need.  I feel I can make a difference by helping others that have lost a child.  It is the most satisfying feeling to give from the heart in honor of my son. 

Asking for help   - I did not know how to ask for help early on in my grief.  Thank goodness for the support organizations that I did contact, because they helped me without having to ask for the help.  As time has gone by, I have been specific with friends and family in how I need help or support.  I tell them a simple phone call or card is always appreciated on Charles' anniversaries or a donation in his memory to a non profit organization.  I am a pretty stubborn person and it is hard for me to ask for help, but I am getting better at it with each passing year. 

Rage...I think this is the toughest to deal with.  I don't think I'd ever really acknowledged anger in my life until Lily died.  I mean, I would yell or be "mad" at someone but -- probably because my mom was always really rageful and I didn't want to be like her -- I would stuff it down.  When Lily died, I simply couldn't stuff it.  It came out hard-core!!!  I said horrible things to my partner, in front of my kids, to my family.  I cut my legs and arms to "let it out."  I still have a tough time with the rage and anger.  I try to talk more now when I feel it bubbling.  I try to get away from people so I don't hurt them.  I still don't feel comfortable with it, though.  Will I ever?

Fear...I'm afraid of the person I've become.  Sometimes I feel like I don't know her.  Sometimes I'm afraid I will do something horrible like just leave everything behind because it's too much to handle.  I'm afraid that if something else tragic happens in my life I'll lose it.  whatever "it" is.  I'm really afraid that I will lose one of my living children.  Sometimes I practice it happening so I will be prepared. the worst by far of all the grief stuff.  I don't care how rational I can make myself be about Lily's death.  I will always be at fault in my heart and soul and therefore I will always punish myself for it.  I will always feel guilty for not being a good mom to my living children.  I will always feel guilty for not dealing well enough with her death and causing my family more worry and pain after Lily died.  Guilt eats at me, it takes over my thoughts.  It is the impetus for the rage and if I let it, it tells me that I don't deserve to be here, that death would be better. 

Sadness...It's like water that I ride on all the time.  it's always there but sometimes I fall in and choke in big mouthfuls of it.  Most of the time no one would know but I feel like i'm constantly surfing it, balancing, just about to fall in. 

Comfort...I find comfort in people mostly.  Sometimes in art.  But always people.  (The right people, of course).

Safe and Cared For...I don't think I've really felt that way except for here or at MISS.  Mostly I feel like I'm doing it all on my own and I want it that way cause that's what I deserve.

Shut Down...something else I feel guitly about doing but something i just have to do every once in a while cause there's too much to think about.

Giving...I don't think I've gotten there yet.  I'm probably behind the power curve. Or I'm just a selfish monster.

Asking for Help...could there be anything harder?

Rage-I'm not sure I feel rage much, maybe at my Dh when he is a stupid-head, but concerning my grief journey, rage hasn't been present much lately.

Fear-I am very much afraid, since losing Amanda and Bean, of losing Charlie. I imagine the horrid things that could happen, and I cry and I am soooo afraid to let him go, especially to school, etc. That is my biggest fear. Losing him after all we've been thru.

Guilt-I feel very guilty when I retreat to my grief world and leave Chuck and Charlie behind. I feel like I am neglecting them.

Saddness-I am sad every time I think of Amanda and Bean, and of what might have been.

Comfort-My comfort comes from the Lord, firstly, and secondly from those who have walked this path before me and are making it.

Safe & cared for-I am not sure I ever feel this.

Shut down-everyday in the *real* world.

Giving-when someone emails me and tells me how much my memorial site for Amanda has helped them feel not alone, and then I am able to email back. And in real life too, when someone loses a baby, I reach out.

I have never been so angry as I was in the months after my Adin passed.  Even now, I look back on that time not as a dark or sad time in my life, but as a time of blind-red rage.  Somehow, that made dealing with day to day life easier.  In times long ago, I had issues with drug use.  When Adin passed, my partner left me, literally.  Before I'd ever gotten out of the hospital, Jim had left the state and joined the Air Force.  I've still not forgiven him for running from me, from our loss; but, in time, the anger has slowly left me.  He now says that he knew I would fall back to my old vices, as Adin was the center of my world, everything I ever wanted; and so he had to go.

I have had a subsequent pregnancy that also failed.  The moment I knew I was pregnant with Erin Elise, I also knew that it would end badly.  I told very few people, and I still have not told them all that I, again, failed in my copacity as a woman.  The deepest fear, I think, that I have now is that I will never have a child live, or that by assuming the inevitable, I have also brought it about.

When I was much younger, I had a fairly serious drug problem.  It's in my past, now, and though it's something that I am not proud of, it is also something that I do not hide any longer.  I had been clean for about a year when I became pregnant with Adin, but I still harbour the guilt that maybe, through what I'd done in years past, I harmed him.  Once, in an NA meeting, someone told me that "god" had taken my children because , and I quote,"They are better dead than with a Junkie for a mother."  Some of you probably agree - I have guilt because, sometimes when I'm alone with my thoughts, I have to wonder if they were right.

Everytime I look at my nephew I can't help but wonder why he lived and my Adin didn't.  They would have been very close in age, and I see him doing all of the things that Adin would have done just a few weeks earlier.  There is no heartache, no sadness in the world, that quite lives up to that.

Shut down
I don't know how to let people in to this day.  When someone - especially someone who is not in this awful "club" - asks me about any of my losses, I either change the subject or find an excuse to exit stage left.   There is a hole in my life - there is a fuse forever removed from my breaker, and I don't think that I'll ever have lights turned back on.

Rage- During this journey I have felt rage many times, before the death of my baby I had never expereince this kind of anger, so it was a very new thing to me, something I never thought I could feel. I've felt rage on many occasions, it just seems to come on unexpectadely, but sometimes things can bring it on, for example, the doctors, pregnant women, jealousy,  other peoples comments, or even simle things like getting baby ads in the mail. Rage didnt really come into the picture until about month 3 past my babies death...

Fear- I have felt great fear many times as well, I have feared where my baby is, and if I will see her again. That is actually my greatest fear, that I will never know MY baby. Next to that, I fear the death of other family members, and also int he past I have feared that I was losing my mind to grief.

Guilt- Another strong emotion, guilt over my babies death, guilt that my body didnt provide for her or save her, guilt that I didnt give my husband the baby he had hoped for, or the sister my daughter was so excited about. I also feel guilt if I dont get my baby the best possible things ( tangable)

Saddness- Sadness is an ongoing emotion, I dont know if this will ever pass.

Comfort- Honeslt, I havent felt alot of comfort, as I dont really have any one I can open up to. I however, have felt comfort with other peoples kindness and beliefs that my baby is at peace and that she is with me and that I will see her again. I take comfort in those things because, I myself, although I try to believe, really have no idea whats happened. I take comfort in small things that I see as signs from my baby. Trying to hold hope that she is with me always.

Safe & cared for- I do feel safe and cared for at home by my husband and by my family, yet I only wish I had more support, or I wish I was different so that I could communicate my feelings.

Shut down- I feel this way much of the time...

Giving- Im always wanting to give in the name of Sierra, just to show how much love I have for her, to let her prescense in our family and in the world be known.

Asking for help- I have a hard time asking for help, I cant think of anytime I have asked for help. I do come to these online groups for support and they have been a great help to me.


We'll have more Q & A next month...

About the Kota Discussion Group
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.

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