Out of Darkness, Into Light
The story goes that Ernest Hemingway once won a bet by writing a six word short story that was so good, it could make people cry – “For Sale: Baby Shoes. Never Worn.” This little story came to mind when I began snapping pictures and writing listings to sell the baby items we had collected last year.
This month, David and I participated in a Mother’s Day Name Project, creating the names of babies who have died through miscarriage, pregnancy loss and stillbirth, and infant loss. You can view those special images in last week’s Wordless/Wordful Wednesday post, or on the blog’s Facebook page. If you have experienced pregnancy or infant loss, and would like us to create your child’s name, please fill out our Google form. It would be our honor, truly.
This week, I am sharing the wonderful images that I have received of Clara’s name. Each image is so special, and each time a new one pops up in my inbox, I call David and the girls over to show them the latest beautiful name drawing or photograph. We are so touched by this project, and have had many friends and family members join in and send us their version of Clara’s name as well.
If you would like to participate in writing or drawing or photographing Clara’s name for our family, we would absolutely love and appreciate it. I would like to collect as many as possible before her 1st birthday on July 1st. There’s something special that I just can’t explain in each image… I really love seeing her name written in so many different ways and places by so many loving people.
Recently, a friend said to me that guilt is a wasted emotion.
I’ve spent the better part of a year tormenting myself with guilt over Clara’s death. I’ve had countless people tell me that I shouldn’t feel guilty, that I did nothing wrong, that I couldn’t have changed anything, that I couldn’t have known what would happen.
Some of that I agree with, and some of it I don’t. None of these things have struck me with the force of what my friend said to me, though.
Am I guilty of misjudgment, too much pride and hubris, trying to “play God”, and ignoring medical advice to my own detriment?
Yes, surely I am guilty of some of that, if not all of that.
Does it matter? Does it bring my baby back to my empty arms?
No. No, it does not.
I have been punishing myself for long enough, I think. Guilt is a wasted emotion, and my emotions are too valuable to waste any longer.
Parents who have experienced the loss of a pregnancy, an infant, or a child, are familiar with being told to “get over it”. I’m here to tell you that we will not, and should not, get over the loss of our babies. They are just as special to us as our (or your) living children are. They will never stop being our children, and one does not simply get over a loss like that.
I am going to get over my guilt, though. It is time. I have been well and mightily judged for my part in Clara’s death, even if only by myself.
I am ready to stop wasting my emotions. I am ready to spend my energy loving all of my children, loving my husband, honoring Clara’s memory, and cultivating magic and happiness in our home again.
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
 |
