Greater Purpose

Since losing Brooklyn, I honestly can't even count the amount of times I have been contact by someone who has either lost a baby or child, or someone who is looking for resources and insights for a friend or family member who has recently lost a baby.

Every single time I get these emails or text messages, my heart becomes so heavy. I go right back to the deep feelings of sadness I had last April.

Then I become angry. Angry that I'm receiving these messages way too frequently. Angry that it's 2015 and babies are still dying - some before they ever take a breath.

I was talking to a friend who has recently been affected by the loss of someone's baby. She said her grandmother was saying how it was fairly common to lose a child back in her day. But the past two years, she has heard about it more than ever. This shouldn't be happening. Things need to change. Our system is broken, and very few people are speaking out about this issue.

Mike Colle is one of those people. Mike is the Eglinton-Lawrence MPP, and last Tuesday put forth Bill 141 called the "Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness, Research, and Care Act, 2015." http://mikecolle.onmpp.ca/News/11656?l=EN#.VlB839ocA5Y.facebook

Through this act, he hopes to:

• Establish and expand comprehensive research initiatives and programs to assist mothers and families who experience pregnancy loss or infant death
• Undertake a comprehensive comparative analysis to understand the factors that contribute to an increased risk of pregnancy loss or infant death
• Develop and expand programs to help reduce the risk of pregnancy loss or infant death
• Develop and expand existing programs across Ontario to provide counselling and support to mothers and families who have experienced pregnancy loss or infant death
• Undertake a comprehensive analysis and survey of the best practices in other jurisdiction in regards to prevention of pregnancy loss or infant death

Finally - someone in power is speaking out about a topic often taboo in our culture. People still struggle to talk about pregnancy loss and infant death, and the people affected most are the parents, family members and friends of the child who has died. 

If you are interested in signing this petition, PLEASE do. You will need to print a copy and mail it in. Unfortunately in order for the signature to be valid, online petitions as well as ones that are photocopied and faxed are not permissible. 
Bill 141 Printable Petition

If you are interested in signging but don't have a printer, I have a copy you can sign! Please contact me and I will do what I can to get the petition in your hands. I will even mail it for you.

Also, please contact your local MPP to tell them how important this issue is. Their opinion matters and if they are made aware of this issue and how many people think its important, real change can happen. 

MPP Contact Information - this is the link to find the contact information for your local MPP.


Finally, if you ever hear of people who have lost a child and would be looking for resources or information, please never hesitate to contact me. When people ask me for advice and resources, it helps me feel like Brooklyn's life continues to serve greater purpose. Greater purpose than I will likely ever know. 

Someone Came Before You

It has been over a month and a half since I have last written a blog post. Not because I haven't wanted to, or because I didn't have the time, or because I haven't needed to use writing as a way to cope. Mostly because I often feel like I should be at a different stage in this grieving process. I feel embarrassed sometimes that I still have days where I miss my baby so much that my body physically aches. On November 5th, Brooklyn would have been 19 months old. Enough time has passed, that I feel like there's an expectation from others that I should be "better" by now. That thinking about Brooklyn, or talking about her somehow means I am dwelling on the past and not "moving on". I feel awkward bringing her up in conversation, or talking about my labour and delivery story - as if my story of her birth is any less valid or important than any one else's.

Right after we lost her, we met with the social worker at the hospital who told us this would happen. Time would move on, so would other people, slowly they would stop acknowledging her existence, and we would be left feeling like we are scrambling to hold onto any pieces of her memory we have left. This is how I've felt lately. I know it's not an intentional thing or something that is done to hurt us, it's just what happens when time moves on and our baby doesn't move with it. It's not even that I want to talk about her all the time, I just long to hear anyone say they miss her too.

Missing her definitely comes in waves. Actually no - missing her is constant, the intensity of this feeling varies. August, September, and the beginning of October were really hard months for me. I missed her like crazy and I felt like I was struggling to be a good mama to Aubrey because of it. I can't pin point the exact time the intensity lessened or why, but the feeling is easier these days. I know that the overwhelming longing will return again, and that I will be a little bit stronger each time it does.

I still keep Brooklyn's blanket on our bedside table. The only time I move it is to pick it up and smell it. Sometimes I feel weird for doing that, but when the memories we have of her are so few, I'll take what I can get. I know one day I will move it, maybe even tuck it away in her little memory box, but I don't like to think about that yet. Aubrey's things are scattered around our house, it helps me to know that Brooklyn has something lying around too.

Lately I have been trying to do more things for me. Since we got pregnant with Brooklyn in July of 2013, my body has either been used to grow or nurse a baby. My pregnancies were both physically draining, and my pregnancy with Aubrey was very stressful. I feel blessed that I am able to do these things, but it got to a point where I was exhausted and feeling like I was giving so much of myself away and not taking any time to refuel my batteries. I've slowly started doing things for myself again, and it has made a difference in both my mood and my perspective. I've also started letting go of things quicker, and being more intentional about how I spend my time. Life's too short - I don't want to look back and regret wasting so much time doing things that don't actually matter.

Tonight before bedtime, I was reading the book called "Someone Came Before You" to Aubrey. It talks about a Mommy and Daddy who had a baby who died, and how that baby stretched their hearts big enough to let in more love again. During one part, I was choking back the tears. Aubrey snuggled in close to me like she sometimes does, as if she knew that was exactly what I needed. Tears started streaming down my face, and I held her tight and told her I love her so very much. That sweet girl has softened my heart in a way I didn't think was possible again. She has taught me it's okay to laugh so hard I cry, and that it's okay to hope for better days. She truly is our rainbow after a storm.