The Elite Women of the Strongest Club on Earth

A couple of days ago someone very close to me had a miscarriage. It was extraordinarily traumatic for a situation that's synonymous with tragedy to start with. Life required me to reach beyond myself, my pain, my grief and be there for someone else's. And so in under three months time I have held not one, but two dead babies in my arms. A couple of months ago my therapist shared a scripture with me along the lines of " How you are comforted, you will comfort" I found myself doing the things that I knew helped me when I delivered and lost Mateo. I took the stories of the women in my support group, the things they regretted not doing when they were in the hospital and I advocated for my loved ones sake. I made sure she had some time with her baby to say goodbye, that she took pictures, said yes to the memory box the hospital offered. In the moment you just want to move past the experience just as quickly as you were thrust into it but I know that for healing's sake even that moment must be honored- the moment you lose your child. So we held him and talked to him and she got to say goodbye. You are never ready to say goodbye but somehow you do. And you leave the hospital with a handful of mementos instead of a baby. Moms should always leave hospitals with their babies. And you go home and you put the mementos away, and you minimize the pain and let the world convince you that it was just a miscarriage and not to worry you'll have more children. But you can't just do that when you have held your baby, when you studied the smallest hands you've ever seen and held close this little person you gave life to and then felt life go out of. So that's when you look for the mementos, and the pictures you didn't feel like taking at the time and you sit with them, grateful you have these tangible things, proof that your baby once lived in more than just your memories and for a little while you have peace despite your pain. That moment of peace is what I advocated for. So I took pictures of her and her baby, and I examined the littlest toes I have ever seen, and I spoke to him and loved him and said goodbye. I did this so his mother knew it was okay for her to. I comforted as I was comforted or as many women wish they would have been.

I recently wrote her a letter and I wanted to share parts of it. In writing her I realize just how much I have started to heal these last three months. I know I still have a long way to go but I am not quite as fragmented as I once was. I am slowly and painfully starting to be put back together.

" You and I and millions upon millions of women are now part of a very elite and sad club of the strongest women on earth. We know what it is like to create life and we know what is like to lose that life we created. I don't know why this happens to some people, and I don't know why we are the some people this happens to. What I do know is this- it does get easier. You will heal. You will cry, you will mourn, you will grieve and then in time you will let your pain go. Find comfort wherever you can. Pray, read books on child loss, go to group meetings, don't be afraid to talk about your baby and don't ever apologize for wanting to. Cry with your husband. Write in a journal- every day, every hour , your every thought if you need to. Sit with your pain, never run from it. Don't distract yourself with work. Don't minimize the situation. It's okay if this is the end of the world for a little while. That's when you realize your pain won't kill you. That's when you realize you are stronger than you ever imagined. You realize you will never take anyone you love for granted ever again. When you let yourself experience the full extent of your grief that is when you can slowly start to shed it. Piece by piece you let it go all the while exclaiming- I have felt the pain of losing a child and I have survived".

I'm surviving...

Grief and Giving Back

"Growth requires pain. – Be patient and tough, someday this pain will be useful to you. Those with the strength to succeed in the long run are the ones who lay a firm foundation of growth with the bricks that life has thrown at them. So don’t be afraid to fall apart for a little while. Because when it happens, the situation will open an opportunity for you to grow and rebuild yourself into the brilliant person you are capable of being."

I read this somewhere recently and it resonated with me in a very deep way. I feel like I am not just falling apart but also being pulled apart. Stripped and left raw and vulnerable. Then told the only way to come back together to a version of you you can be proud of- is to let people help in the rebuilding of you.

Keeping this in mind I am asking you to join me in creating a grief jar. My due date is a month away and so for the next month I am writing down the things I miss about Mateo, the things I will miss. I'm noting the wishes, desires, the things that break my heart, anything. Everything. I'm putting it in the grief jar and then in a month I am going to read through them. I'm gonna sit with them and consciously cry and feel and experience the grief around my son. And then I am going to put them away. I have a memory box for Mateo and so I will put these in his box. My grief is as much a part of our story as as my pregnancy was, as his birth was. This won't mean I am done grieving. This means I acknowledged that I want to be put back together again. Like a puzzle missing a piece- Ill never be whole again. That doesn't mean I don't get to be again. A grief jar is the tool I have for right now.

I ask you, my support system to consider keeping your own grief jar. If you share grief over Mateo with me then keep a jar with me the next month and on his due date March 25th, take a minute to grieve with me. But don't just grieve with me hat day- help me also give back. I'd like to take that day and give back to the Ronald McDonald House. They were so wonderful to me when Mateo was in the NICU. Their goal is to support families with babies in intensive care or children who need prolonged medical care. These families spend all day in the hospital with their children and volunteers are the ones who make sure these families are fed. Register to feed these families on the 25th (you have to resister ahead of time) or bake some delicious desserts and drop them off or go on their website and make a small donation- any amount will help.

I am not sure which I will do yet, maybe I'll ask some friends to help me prepare the meal and join me in dropping it off. Let people help put me back together. If Mateos grief doesn't touch you personally- make your own grief jar with your loved one you miss and love and grieve. If you aren't grieving as part of your journey right now- borrow some of mine and make sure you give back to the Ronald McDonald House somehow on the 25th.

This week should be a good connecting week. I have a support group meeting, an appointment with my therapist, and some one on ones with close friends coming up. I will rebuild with the bricks life throws at me. And I don't have to do it alone.

A Matter of Time

Our language has wisely sensed the two sides of being alone. It has created the word loneliness to express the pain of being alone. And it has created the word solitude to express the glory of being alone. ~ Paul Tillich

I have been weaving in and out of lonliness this last week. It seems as though the moment I start to allow myself to be comfortable in one of the spaces created by solitude, that is when I am guided into its counterpart. Like intimate dance partners that trade off, I am held tight by loneliness  and then handed off to solitude for the next song. Sometimes I wish I could just sit this dance out.

I had my first public meltdown this week- I have heard so much about them and knew that it was only a matter of time.  I was at Old Navy buying my first pair of post maternity jeans. The children's section is next to the dressing room. I have walked by children's sections plenty of times since Mateo's passing. But this time was the time that set me off. This time was the time that the little shoes and the little hats were too much to take. It was all just so sweet and I wanted to buy Mateo something so bad. I know that I could have, but I already have a bag of cute little things he will never wear. I could have bought something and gifted it but I wanted to buy it for my baby- and my baby is gone. I wanted to throw a tantrum right there in the children's section. I imagined myself with a cart full of baby clothes and the giant belly I would have had only a month away from giving birth. I put my jeans down and went into the Old Navy bathroom, went into a stall and sobbed. I just cried and cried. For all the things I've missed and for all the things I am missingand all that I will. This very dimensional pain comes at me from every angle. I sort through it piece by piece but there is always some heartache to contend with. Always a piece to sort through.

I found out today I cannot have Mateo's headstone placed until I finish paying off the burial costs. Never mind the thousands of dollars already paid. That's the nature of business. That's the business of making money off of dead people. Making money off my dead person.

I am still trying my hand at grief meditation- allowing myself to be present with all of it and time and time again opening my eyes and realizing that I felt it all and I lived through it. I live through it.

"Don't let them say, I wasn't born
That something stopped my heart
I felt each tender squeeze you gave
I've loved you from the start.

Although my body you can't hold,
It doesn't mean I'm gone.
This world was worthy, not, of me
God chose that I move on.

I know the pain that drowns your soul, What you are forced to face.
You have my word, I'll fill your arms Someday we will embrace.

You'll hear that it was "meant to be,
God doesn't make mistakes"
But that won't soften your worst blow.Or make your heart not ache.

I'm watching over all you do,
another child you'll bear.
Believe me when I say to you,
That I am always there.

There will come a time, I promise you When you will hold my hand,
Stroke my face and kiss my lips
And then you'll understand.

Although, I've never breathed your air, Or gazed into your eyes..
That doesn't mean I never "was"
An Angel Never Dies"

~Author unknown

Weeping at Mateo's Grave

The Broken Places

“The world breaks everyone, and afterward many are strong at the broken places.”- Hemingway

I have been painfully aware of my broken places lately. The places that I am told will eventually heal and become stronger than before. This week is the week my cousin and I had thrown around for my when baby shower would be. I am sure it would have been lovely.

I was listening to a talk on iTunes U about the connection between music, the brain and grief. It was really interesting and this one particular section really moved me- " The lessons that come from grief come from its unexpected moves, from its shifting views from what has gone before and what is yet to come. Pain brought so often into ones consciousness cannot maintain the same capacity to wound. Grief conspires in order to insure it will wear itself out."

I have been doing some grief meditations lately. Taking a couple of minutes to be present with my pain, with my grief. I usually fall asleep somewhere in the middle of it- but I totally get a good couple of minutes in! Just like with any practice poco a poco...

"Grief is like a winding valley where any bend may reveal a totally new landscape"- CS Lewis

Here are some things to check out
http://motherswhohavelostachild.com/2012/the-broken-places/
iTunes U Music and the Brain Podcast- the one on grief is great

Eat Your Heart Out

I can honestly say that my longest and most intimate relationship in my life has been with food and weight loss. It has been a dysfunctional relationship. I love food, I hate food, I need food, I avoid food. It is exhausting to count calories. It is maddening to be overweight. I have tried everything from dieting to lifestyle changes and it seems like I always end up back right where I am today- binge eating.

One of my favorite weight loss books is Women, Food and God. In it the author mentions that no matter how well put together you may seem in life- how you eat- reveals everything. What I weigh says so much more about me than I ever do.

Having a post baby body- post baby weight that tells a story I can't avoid telling, I had a baby. I had a baby and you can't meet him because he is gone. Every time I look in the mirror and see my post baby body I am reminded that I had a baby. Had being the operative word. I now have a memory, a longing for someone who was and the person they could have been. So every day I look in the mirror and I am angry at my body and its continual betrayal and disregard for my feelings.

In my more rational moments I understand it is not my body that is to blame, my mind is in charge. Further more assigning blame-period brings no peace. The last couple of weeks despite all its ups and downs I have managed to lose some weight. I have been going to the gym, making smart food choices, really being conscious of my schedule and my routine. Home made fruit smoothie for breakfast every morning. Spinning class at 845 am. Pack your lunch. Walk your dog. Routine and familiarity. So on Friday I had to stray from my routine a little because of a work engagement, then again on Saturday except this time even more, because of work, then on Sunday for social reasons- and by today I was literally eating junk food all day. I mean it when I say the whole day. I ate out all three meals. I am on my way to D.C. For a conference and today wasn't a routine day and the next couple of days at the conference won't be either. I am frustrated that even the slightest change in routine throws me down a spiral of no control. I work so hard to control everything in my life, to manage my time, my grief, my job, working out,socializing, me time. If I feel like it gets to be too much my control over food is where I cave. I just eat without consciousness. But like anything done without consciousness it brings bitter consequences. I physically feel ill. I'm tired. I'm overweight. Emotionally I beat myself up, I end up being unkind myself. How can I have a day away from the norm and then seamlessly just go back to it? I don't want to be a robot- to limit my life and food choices so I never lose control. I need to own this. It just feels like it is too much while also processing grief. I can't have eating days like today anymore so I am sharing it with you all in hopes that maybe getting it out, actually saying- I am having a hard time grieving and eating healthily and I could use some support. I am hoping this will help. I just want some peace around this. I want to look in the mirror and be grateful for the woman looking back at me, the woman who gave birth to a baby, the woman who eats with her consciousness and truly love the woman I see.

In that same book Women, Food and God the author lays out some eating guidelines for finding balance with food. I think I would benefit from creating my own list of guidelines. It is a work in progress right now but here are some of my ideas...

1) Pray before I eat. I grew up praying before every meal but I can honestly say too often words were just mumbled so I could hurry up and eat. I want to create a practice of expressing gratitude for my meal and all that went into it being available.

2) Support local businesses. If I am going to eat out I will only eat at local small business restaurants. This will curb my trips to fast food joints. If I'm hungry I have to get out of my car and go inside a restaurant, study the menu and then order. Plus the money goes to a family run restaurant and that makes me feel good. If I'm gonna eat out might as well do some good!

3) Ask myself- is this a meal I would feed my children? I made it a point to eat so healthy while I was pregnant- Mateo's nutrition was so important to me. Imagine if my own nutrition were as important to me? I would not want my kids drinking soda, eating chips or having ice cream for dinner. When I was a nanny so much of my time was spent making sure the girls were healthy and happy. I monitored their meals and how they reacted to certain foods. I should take care of myself with as much attention as I do children under my care. If it isn't good enough for someone I love then it isn't good enough for me.

These are the only ones I have for now- I am sure more inspiration will come with time but for now these feel realistic and attainable. Feel free to throw any suggestions my way <3

Happiness Is

These last couple of weeks I have had a few experiences that have been transformative and so I wanted to take this moment to share just in case you too were looking for a little insight and a little guidance.

I recently attended a film screening of the documentary Project Happiness. It was a showing at the community college I attended a few years ago and I went with two of my closest friends these days- Alex who is in her 20's and Penny who is no longer in her 20's. The movie was fun and inspiring. I laughed, I cried, I left there with a new sense of what my personal relationship with what happiness can be. The movie didn't present foreign concepts on how to achieve happiness. The beauty of the message lies in its simplicity and familiarity. Sometimes what you know and what you "knoooow" are not the same. I know what happiness is as a concept. I do not always know what happiness is as a practice. I really recommend watching this documentary- the word gospel literally translates to "good news"- I am sharing the gospel of Project Happiness. Like any good news and truths worth sharing I am proselytizing this movie- watch it, love it, share it, and then watch it again. Amen.

I also recently had the chance to attend this cool workshop- a theater workshop for immigrant activists. I went into it thinking we were going to create a skit about farmers having a hard day on the field. I should really stop going into things thinking. We spent 10 hours moving our bodies, exploring with messages, doing trust exercises and practicing concentration and being present. It was a wonderful experience. The workshop was facilitated by Roberto- an Argentinian man currently living in San Francisco where he runs community theater groups. I walked out of that workshop appreciating the process. It was all so parallel to my feelings on grief- truly learning to honor the process before trying to do anything, create anything, be anything more than present with just that- the process. At one point Roberto pointed out that "A process is like a pilgrimage" the goal isn't the end result- to produce something to share but rather producing something to be. This was just as true with the process at this theater workshop as it is with my process in grieving Mateo. Towards the end of the workshop this young boy raised his hand and commented " Now I am ready to write that skit!" He was obviously bursting with creative energy after having spent the day tapping into it. Roberto, who was also obviously bursting with creative energy looked at him and exclaimed " That's the beauty of finishing something- that's when we get started! " I look forward to coming through this and out of this and being someone obviously bursting with energy ready to get started.

I have been tapping into different resources for advice and support and one of them is this Podcast series by Reverend Kusala. I do not practice Buddhism but there are truths to the Buddhist way of life that I admire and aim to adapt in my life. Today I listened to this talk on Life and Death- it was really great and so I posted the link below in case you get a chance to check it out. He points to a handful of things that really stuck out to me, I was listening to it and kept reaching for my notepad to take notes and write down ideas, but his commentary on reincarnation struck me the most. He shared his thoughts on reincarnation not as being reborn from this physical life into another one. It wasn't about dying and coming back as a butterfly- but rather the idea that we are reborn all of the time- now- in this life. His mother recently passed away and he was looking through her pictures. He was looking of a timeline of her life through pictures- from her baby pictures to her pictures right before dying- and he found himself in disbelief that anyone would not believe in reincarnation. The person you were at 8 years old is not the person you are 16, or at 35 or 58 or at 82. Those are all different people in their own right. I appreciated the message of rebirth as an experience throughout this life and not something post this life. I really recommend checking out the whole podcast and if you do feel free to let me know what parts of it, if any might have jumped out at you.

http://www.urbandharma.org/ATS/LifeDeath.mp3

Lastly I wanted to say thank you to the people in the support group meeting I attended today. It was a relaxed event where I got to share my experience and help affirm others in their grief. One of the greatest things I have found people can give me is a space to share, an avenue for sharing my feelings and the opportunity to be heard. I absolutely had that today- and in turn I made a conscious effort to listen to others and honor their need for that space. My therapist once shared this scripture with me from the Bible that pretty much states- how you are in comforted, that is how you will comfort others. I kept that in mind today and thought of all the kind ways I have been comforted these last couple of months, the things that people said that actually helped and better yet the things that people did that actually brought comfort. For me that has been being listened to, finding my voice through grief and being heard has been a real sign of love towards me and so I made it a point to try and comfort in that way- I made it a point to listen. Thank you to those who listened to me today.

I will be in Washington D.C. for the next couple of days for a work conference and will get to see a fellow Peace Corps volunteer. She was absolutely wonderful to me throughout my first trimester in Peru and has been a good friend through this despite our distance. I am so excited to get to see her and catch up. I am so grateful for good friends in this life.

Birds of A Feather

If no one seems to understand anything I say lately does that mean I just no longer make sense in life? I feel so absolutely alone not only through this grief process but in anything I share. When I express my plans for the future people treat me like someone that can't be trusted to know what they want. "Oh, that must be the grief talking".  People listen. No one truly hears me.

It is interesting how the people you always thought would be there for you aren't when tragedy strikes, and the people you least expected step up. I have found friendship in unlikely faces. My family- with the exception of my mom, my aunt and one cousin has absolutely nothing to do with me. This includes my sister. This breaks my heart. The people who were so supportive of my having Mateo, those who were there for me when he was alive, are nowhere to be found now that he isn't. I am grateful for the people who have managed to love me through this hard time. When I am not funny, crazy Ana. When I have nothing to give and need so much. I'll be eternally grateful to those people.

I try to remind myself that everything that I feel is valid. My feelings do not need to make sense or be neat, they just need to be felt. At times I give myself permission to have anything I want- do anything I want- go anywhere I want. I say to myself " you can have, be, or do anything you want" and I go through options - do I want to backpack through Europe? Do I want to move out? Do I want to drive to a restaurant and order every dessert on the menu and not count the calories?  Do I want to buy myself something extravagant? Bungee jump? Grad School? Join a convent? Get a tattoo? Anything? Everything? Nothing. I don't want anything in life but Mateo. I can't have Mateo so now how do I fill my life?

Losing him has made me fearless. I just don't care about the little things. I don't spend time on worry. I no longer get embarrassed. Losing Mateo is now my litmus test for shitty things in life. If toilet paper on my shoe all day is the worst thing that happens to me in a day- that's a good damn day. Cause you know what happened on a bad day? My baby died. After that day you can't ever have another truly bad day. The other side of that is that you can also never truly have another good day- since I will never have a day not shadowed by my missing him.

The only thing that peaks my interests these days is a house. I want to buy a house. I want to have a garden. I want to sit in the grass under the sun and take in an afternoon in my yard. I want to decorate my home, fill it with trinkets from my travels. It doesn't have to be a big house, just mine. I've had everything taken from me in just one instant. If I'm going to rebuild my life I want it to include a home- a safe place to call my own. The challenge now is figuring out a timeline. When to buy a house? When to go to grad school? I have been pretty straight forward with my plans on having more children- wether I have a partner or not I will have another baby in the next couple of years- where will that fall in the plans? I sort through all this while being conscious of the fact that goals are attainable- plans however are fluid and ever changing. How to make one complement the other? How to find the energy to make it all make sense when most days I am impressed I get out of bed? I'd say I'll let you know when I have all the answers but chances are that while you might listen to what I am saying- you wouldn't really hear me anyway.