Thursday, January 21, 2010

The secret club none of us wanted to join

I know that after Gabriel died it seemed that I was running into pregnant women everywhere. The grocery. Church. Out running errands. And if they weren't pregnant, they often had little kids and babies. Lots of babies. Everywhere I went, seemed like.

I've heard other moms say they felt this way, as well.

What was hard to remember is that often we are also seeing moms who have had babies die. I have heard statistics that indicate that 1 out of 4 pregnancies results in a pregnancy loss. It may be as high as 1 out of 3. Crazy. Unreal.

So why do people not talk about it? Why must grieving moms feel so alone? What if there was a symbol so that we could recognize each other?

A while back I ordered some rubber band bracelets. They are very similar to the yellow 'lance armstrong' bracelets, but with different wording. The white ones say "Remembering Our Babies" and have little footprints. I have heard that dads are wearing these, as well. When it was requested to make smaller ones for siblings I ordered the pink/blue swirl ones that say "Remembering" with footprints.

I sell these bracelets on my site.

ORIGINAL bracelets are White, and debossed with the words "Remembering Our Babies". They also have a small baby feet symbol. These are an adult size. They are 8.5 inches measured around the bracelet.

PINK/BLUE SWIRL bracelets are SMALLER youth size for women with small wrists or for siblings. These say REMEMBERING and have the baby feet logo. They are 7.5 inches measured around the bracelet.

These are perfect for support groups, mementos for memory walks, or to use in fundraising. Bulk pricing is available, please email me at I try to keep a quantity in stock but may need to reorder depending on demand.



Anonymous said...

It's true. It's like a silent epidemic.
(I have a bracelet too!)

Heather said...

One of the most infuriating and amazing things to me about being forced into this club is the fact that most people really don't want to talk about it. Some ask how we are doing, and I know for sure they really don't want to know. That if I told them I can't look at baby girls clothes without feeling like I'm going to hurl, or that I slept with the matching lovey to the ones that are in my girls coffins last night, or that all I dream of is death, or that I still can't sleep without a prescription, or that going to the cemetary comforts me because when I am next to their headstone, I know they are only 3 feet away from me and that is as close as I'm ever going to get to them physically again there would be silence on the other end of the line, and that they probably would never ask again. My husband's own family says NOTHING when I mention my babies, and neither of his sisters have EVER visited the cemetary-even for the funerals- where they are laid to rest (about 2 miles from where I live). I am fortunate to have a few friends who I know really care, wspecially one who siad no matter what I tell her, I will never scare her off, and I am truly thankful for her. For the ones who complain about their lives with their 3 children...I'm beginnign to lose the ability to bite my tongue. But I'm still trying.
Thanks for posting about your bracelets.

Mrs.Vickie said...

Steve and I still have the bracelets you gave us in St.Louis, and Amelia loves to put it on her wrist. :)

I'm probably going to order some more someday, for family - when budget lets me though. I'd love to give them to our family members.

Your post reminds me of a poem I found online though. I didn't realize that all those pregnant women in the waiting area of my ob/gyn's office after Adrian died that they too could've lost a baby before...

~A Different Child~

A different child, people notice
There's a special glow around you.
You grow surrounded by love
Never doubting you are wanted;
Only look at the pride and joy
In your mother and father's eyes.
And if sometimes between the smiles
There's a trace of tears,
One day you'll understand.
You'll understand there was once another child.
A different child.
Who was in their hopes and dreams.
That child will never outgrow the baby clothes.
That child will never keep them up at night.
In fact, that child will never be any trouble at all...
Except sometimes, in a silent moment,
When mother and father miss so much
That different child.
May hope and love wrap you warmly
And may you learn the lesson forever:
How infinitely precious,
How infinitely fragile is this life on earth.
One day, as a young man or woman
You may see another mother's tears
Another father's silent grief
Then you, and you alone will understand
And offer the greatest comfort.
When all hope seems lost
you will tell them with great compassion:
"I know how you feel.
I'm only here because my parents tried again."

scubaloo4 said...

Thank you for telling us about your bracelets. Heather-well said. And, it's good to know i'm not the only one dreaming about death all the time. Can't i even get a break in my sleep?

corilee said...

It's been almost a year for me, yet it seems more painful now than it was the day after. The complete loss of fertility doesn't help. My place of employment didn't grant me any bereavement time and my colleagues that were pregnant at the same time avoided and stopped talking to me like I had some contagious disease. When people did say anything, it was usually the wrong thing. It was a year ago this month that I found out I was miraculously pregnant. Yet this month, I've been invited to three baby showers. Everywhere I go people are either pregnant or just had a baby, even my blogging friends and family are either pregnant or just had a baby. Why are things not getting better with time?

Holly said...

There is a lot of avoidance of it. People aren't comfortable with the death of a baby. I wish that people weren't afraid to talk about. I'm not afraid!!

I think I may get some of your bracelets for our walk in a few months.

Heather said...

Thanks for your donation, Emily :)
It means alot.

Joshua Cintron said...

Thank you for sharing your story of losing a child. I have twins, the thought of losing them is unthinkable, yet I must give them to God. Thanks again, and may God hold you in His arms, squeezing the pain away.