You're in the grocery store waiting to check out. Noticing your overflowing basket, the person behind you says, "Wow, that's a lot of groceries, how many kids do you have?" For most of the population, this question is very simple, but for a parent who has lost a child, this is what goes through their head. Using my life as an example... Do I include Stephanie and say 8? If I do, am I being dishonest, Stephanie doesn't eat any of the food? Should I say 8, but one is waiting for us in Heaven, which typically turns a conversation awkward. Or do I just say 7, and be filled with guilt for not including Stephanie. I've said different variations of all 3, but, anytime I've said 7, I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
If you are not a bereaved parent, you may wonder why this is such a dilema. Here is why I believe our answer should reflect the amount of children we carry in our hearts and not just the ones the world can see. We still parent our deceased children. It looks different than the way we parent our living children, but it's parenting nonetheless. There is a special place in our hearts for our children that are no longer here with us. It cannot be filled by anything or anyone else. We have a desire to act out that love. Here are just a few examples of how we parent our deceased children. We think of them daily. Not in a woe is me kind of way, but a loving reminiscent kind way. Sometimes it just occurs to us during normal daily things that someone is missing. Many of us acknowledge their birthday and date of death, for many of us those are the same day. We may even have a little get together with cake and balloons. Many parents get a tattoo in memory of their child. It is a visual representation marking their place in a family. This also often opens a door for us to share when others ask about it. Some have started non-profit organizations in their child's memory. Often providing support to families walking similar paths as they have walked. Some serve the community in some way. Sometimes it may just be a change in the way they treat others. Some may find that their calling is to work in the bereaved community as a Birth and Bereavement doula or Grief Counselor and put forth a lot of effort to receive the education necessary to provide these services. Some of us may just drop everything to go help a friend who has just received news that their precious baby has died. No formal training, just a unique qualification and an overwhelming desire to be there to walk alongside of them as they start their grief journey, just because you know how helpful and comforting it is to have someone like that in your life. Some raise money to fund the placement of CuddleCots so that future bereaved parents can be offered the gift of time. Perhaps it's attending a support group where you can share your story and listen to others. 4 years later, I still go. I go primarily to be a voice of hope to new families, but another important reason is I can go and just be Stephanie's mom in a place where I can talk about her with no awkwardness. A place where tears often flow. Sometimes they are mine and sometimes they are others.
You see, our babies who've been called Home before us, are very much a part of everything we do. They are woven in to the tapestry of our lives. We do things differently because they were here. We can't change them, feed them, bathe them, etc. We can't hold them in our arms, but we most definitely hold them in our hearts. We "parent" their memory. So they wont be forgotten. So their legacy can live on through us.
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