Raising Grace All that we see or seem, is but a dream within a dream.

If you have Rainbows or older children, do they know and remember your angel(s)?

Gracie is older by a minute.  But, she’s still too young to understand who Benjamin is and why he’s not with us.  We don’t have any other children.  Gracie and Benjamin were our first and we had hoped, the only two we would have.  It’s been a huge struggle for us to even have a family, so we’re incredibly thankful that we were even given the opportunity/chance to have them.  If it wasn’t for modern medicine and technology, I wouldn’t have ever been able to have a child.

If you have other children, how has your loss affected them?  If you don’t other children how has your loss affected your relationship with your partner?

It’s really too soon to know exactly how Gracie feels about the loss of her brother, though I often wonder if she can sense his absence on some subconscious level.  After all, she spent almost seven months sharing a space with him.  I know she’ll want to know who he is.  One of the main reasons we had him laid to rest in Westminster is so that we all would have a place to go to visit him.  I wanted Gracie to be able to give him a flower if she so chose and for her to have a physical place to visit.  Benjamin’s a part of our lives, even though he’s gone.  She’ll always be a twin, even though her twin brother isn’t with her physically.

Do you feel you have more good days than bad ones?

Eh.  It depends, but I’ve found that in this past year since Benjamin’s passing, I am more sad.  It’s not that I have more bad days than good days – they’re all about the same, but I just have a constant sadness that follows me around.  It’s become a part of me, something that I’ll never be able to get rid of.  I suppose it’s better to say that I have my moments within those good days, bad days, so-so days that makes my heart hurt.

How do you answer the question of how many children you have?

Usually, I say I had twins, but one of them passed away.  I am a mother of twins, and will always be a mother of twins, and my daughter will always be a twin.

I know it makes some people uncomfortable, talking about a baby who passed away, but I feel it’s necessary that people know.  If I don’t say anything, then Benjamin never really existed.  And, he did.  I felt him move in my stomach and I was able to hear his little heart beating for three weeks, while I was in the hospital.  I feel the least I can do to honor him is to say that he did exist, even if only for a little while.

Do you ever get subtle reminders of your angel?  If so, what are they?

Benjamin’s marker has a hummingbird on it because we felt that a hummingbird would best represent him.  Something so small that works so hard to survive… it just seemed fitting for him.  I see hummingbirds all the time and every time I see one, I think of him.  But, even when I don’t see a hummingbird, I think of him.

I also have a necklace I wear with the twins’ names on it.  It’s a sterling silver hand-poured circle, with their names on one side and on the back, the words, “our beloved son” with the date of their birth.  On the same chain, next to the circle, I have a crescent moon charm with Benjamin’s name stamped on it.  I wear this necklace every day and rarely take it off.  Gracie loves to hold it in her hand and wave it around, and because of this, I’ve had to replace the jump ring the original pendant was hanging from.  That’s OK.  It’ll be hers one day, anyway.

Through your grief process what has kept you going?

Oh my… my husband and my daughter, most definitely.

My art, too.

One day, I was looking through my teacher things and came across a poem.  My students were reading “Of Mice and Men” by John Steinbeck and I was looking for supplemental materials to tie in to the story.  I had stashed a poem by Emily Dickinson away in a folder and pulled it out to read it.

“Hope is the thing with feathers that perches in the soul
and sings the tune–without the words
and never stops at all.”
~Emily Dickinson

I couldn’t get that part of the poem out of my brain.  It stuck there, swirling around when I got up in the morning and when I went to bed at night.  I suddenly, finally, had an urge to create something.  My first idea was to take the poem and make pendants out of it to give to other women at the hospital who had lost their babies.  Then, it morphed into memory boxes, the poem handwritten around the bottom of the box.  These I also donated to the hospital.

Then, I started making beaded bookmarks, which then morphed into lanyards when a nurse at the support group I attend suggested I make lanyards out of the beaded strands I had.

I have found my creative streak again and it makes me happy to create things in honor of my son.  I miss him every day but being able to create something in his honor helps me feel closer to him.

Through your grief process who has been your “rock”?

I’d have to say that my rock would have to be my husband, Michael.  I know that going through something like this would be extremely difficult to do alone.  It’s already difficult, even when we’re able to support each other.  He’s always been there for me to lean on and I appreciate that in him.  Even when something little makes me feel sad, he’s there to support and comfort me.

Gracie is also my little rock.  I’m incredibly grateful for being her mama and she has steadied me in a way I didn’t think possible.  In this storm of a life we live, there she sits, with a smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye.

Today is my birthday.  I would rather have stayed at home with Michael and Gracie, but I went to work.  It was nice to come home and see my little family waiting for me.