Names in the sand

Several days after our second scan of doom, hubby was sent away for work in a trip that had been scheduled long before we found out that we were pregnant. While he was away, I miscarried Pip :( and as you can probably imagine, it was a devastatingly awful time for us. We needed so much to be together, but couldn't.

So while we were apart, we planned to go on a short holiday together upon hubby's return. Thanks to technology, emails, skype and viber, we were able to stay in touch pretty well. But what we really needed was some couple time. Some time to be alone together, time to talk and time to cry.

That's how we ended up in Jervis Bay. A glorious spot on Australia's east coast, home to Hyams Beach where the whitest sand in the world lives, according to the Guinness book of world records. The perfect place to heal and recover after such a traumatic time in our lives.

In the lead up to October 15, which is pregnancy and infant loss memorial day, I was wondering what we would do in memory of our beautiful girl. I don't know if some people will find this strange, but a friend once asked if I felt like I was a mother. I answered yes without hesitation. In my heart I do feel like a mother, I carried my baby for as long as I could in my belly with love and joy and I can honestly say that I would have given anything within my power to physically continue carrying her. Now I continue to carry her in my heart with love and joy. 

I may not have given birth to my child, I may not have nursed a sick baby late at night or early in the morning, I may not have wiped runny noses and worried about whether my child was warm enough, but by God, I wanted to with Pip. Those dreams were taken away from me the day I heard the words "I can't find a heartbeat". So what makes a mother? I know I haven't experienced the full gamut of what motherhood has to offer, the good, the bad, the ugly, the joys and rewards and little moments that make it all worthwhile. But still, I will always and forever be Pip's mother and she will always be my angel.

While this loss is so very personal, I feel like any proud mother I know. I love my baby so very much and I want to talk about her. I think it's sad that in this day and age, talking about miscarriages is still tabboo. So my way of getting past this was just a single small step, but I believe a very important one. 

I had no idea what to expect when I posted the "I am the face" picture as my facebook profile picture. In all honestly I was prepared for some not so nice comments, because the reality is that there are some not so nice people in the world. I was just hoping that none of the people I considered friends would be among them. I'm relieved to say that what I got instead was a lovely outpouring of support from family and friends. Some of my friends even sent me private messages to share similar losses they had experienced. I never would have guessed. They sent virtual hugs and messages of hope. They shared stories of their own pain and healing. I feel so blessed to know each and every one of these special people.

That day we walked along Hyams beach and I found it very therapeutic to write Pip's name in the sand along with the names of all the other angel babies we know. I still can't say why, but maybe it's because in my heart she is real and I want the world to know that. She existed, she was here, she lived and then she died. That's my girl and I will always love her.

October 15th

I'm sad to admit that before any of this happened, I had no idea that October 15th was pregnancy and infant loss remembrance day. I'm sure that had I known, I would have been sad for all the families out there who had experienced such pain.

But now, that pain is personal. That pain is my pain and that loss is my loss. Our loss. Although October 15th is only really recognised officially in the US and in Canada, I believe the UK is starting to recognise it too. But as far as I know, we're still behind here in Australia. I signed a petition the other day to bring this to the attention of the leaders of our country.

The statistics tell us that 1 in 4 experience this loss. If you think about that for a second that almost means on average, for a small-ish family it's roughly 1 per family. For an average family, 2-3 and for a large family more. So why is it still known as the "silent grief"? 

Why are we not talking about this some more? Why do mums and dads, grandparents, brothers and sisters have to fumble their way to help when it is so common? Why do doctors not have resources on supports available for families ready to hand out? 

Life is too short to stuff around. It's time for families to stop grieving in silence and to think they're alone. When we found out about Pip, we felt alone too. I was lucky that I was part of a very supportive online network and was able to be linked in pretty quickly with other mums who had experienced the same sort of loss. Together we cry and together we talk about our babies. We talk about the love we have for them and our hopes for them. I honestly don't know what I would have done without the love and support I found with these beautiful ladies. My hope is that all families affected with this loss find the support and strength they need in those awful times.

So come on world, let's break the silence on miscarriage, infant loss and stillbirth starting now. If you are a fellow parent who has experienced this, or if you are a supporter, especially if you're on a social networking site like facebook or twitter, it won't take much effort to change your profile picture to an image similar to the one above to get people talking about October 15th, to spread the word and to maybe, just maybe, help someone who is struggling with it not feel so alone in their grief.