No right or wrong: part 2

Whitney asked a question in the comments of that previous post but I wanted to bring it up to the top and ask all of you what you do. Here is her question:

I had a question for you - what do you call Gabriel's birthday? I don't know how to feel about Anna's due date in December, when I know she probably wouldn't have come out that day exactly. But it seems morbid to call her day of birth a birthday, which is supposed to be such a happy party time. Thanks again for writing...Whitney

Whitney, thanks for your question. I also feel kind of funny about using the word "birthday" which to me brings up images of cake, balloons, party hats and little kids running around Chuck E. Cheese.

I know some people use the phrase "angelversary" but I've never been entirely comfortable with using that, I don't know why.

I usually just call May 10 "Gabriel's Day" or more often with my family "Baby Goldbug Day" which was his nickname before he was born. However, on that day we do some of the typical 'birthday' things like getting our family together, going to a special place, having a balloon (which we release) and eating cupcakes.

So, I wanted to ask the rest of you. What do you call the day your baby was born?
Thanks for sharing with us.

Sweet Dreams. Little One

Andrea R asked me to post this beautiful poem she wrote after she miscarried a few days ago. ((hugs)) Andrea. Thank you for sharing this with us.
I'm so sorry for your loss.
peace-
emily

It feels un real, it feels silly.
I never held you. I never saw you.
I never felt you. I didn’t know you.
It's true though.
I miss you. I loved you. I wanted you.
I had no name for you.
I try not to blame me.
You and me, we were 1, you left me.
I’m angry & I’m sorry.
sweet dreams little one.
-Andrea R.

No right or wrong

In the interest of 'keepin it real' I wanted to tell you about a conversation my husband and I had the week before Gabriel's birthday.

Me: Did you get Gabriel's birthday off from work next week?
Him: When is it?
Me: Really? You don't know when it is?
Him: I try not to think about it. I just can't do that.

Try not to smack your husband when and if this happens to you.

Just because I mark it on the calendar and cautiously anticipate it from the minute the calendar flips around New Years does not mean I am right and he is wrong. We are both right. However you need to be to get through is right for you.


((hugs))
emily

This week

Today starts my least favorite week of the year- Mothers Day and Gabriel's birthday. I woke up so tense and my entire body aches. There are such physical symptoms associated with grief! I am going to really try to practice relaxation techniques this week and try to avoid unnecessary stress. And I think I'll start by unfriending my husband's aunt on facebook who feels the need to come to my wall and start spouting politics. And by scheduling a massage.

From a grieving mom

I received a very touching email from Holly. She said I could share it with you in the hopes that it may help someone else possibly feeling the same way to know they aren't alone. I appreciate so much her willingness to reach out. ((hugs)) to Holly. We are remembering your baby with you.
peace-
emily

Emily,

I stumbled upon your blog several months ago after I miscarried, and I thank you for putting your thoughts and feelings out there for so many of us looking for something to help us cope. Though every day is still a struggle for me, I find a small amount of comfort knowing I'm not the only one to experience this deep loss and struggle with its aftermath.

The hardest thing for me at this point is that it has been three months since I miscarried, and hardly anyone knows, making me feel as though I have no where to turn for help or comfort. We didn't want to spread the news until we heard a heartbeat. That day never came. My husband's parents and a select few of my girlfriends knew of our pregnancy, and when it ended no one would talk about it. No one called, no one emailed, no one came to our house to check on us. It was as if it never happened. In the weeks that followed a few calls came in. "I just wanted to give you your space, your privacy..." That was the last thing I wanted. I wanted, and still want, someone to tell me they are sorry, that they understand, that they would love to just come over and talk. Anything. I wish the whole dang world knew so I could at least feel like I can show how I feel on the inside, instead of trying to put on a happy face every day. I hate it. I feel like I act my way through every day, holding in my feelings and watching everyone else's lives progress while I feel like I'm at a standstill. Even my husband has moved on and doesn't understand why I still feel so horrible about our loss.

Not only that, but my best friend and I were due at the same time. She is still pregnant and has found out the gender of her baby. She's completely quit talking to me, and right now, as horrible as it feels and sounds, I'm glad. I hate it that she gets what we both wanted, and here I am in agony every day while she paints her nursery and picks out names.

I have finally arranged some counseling that I will begin in November. I have my reservations about talking to a stranger about this, as having a friend or loved one to speak to would be more comfortable. I just don't know any other avenues to take to help myself when no one knows I need the help.

If you can use this for your writing on your blog, please do. There may be a woman out there who is in the exact same situation and doesn't know where to go or what to do next.

Again, thank you for sharing your story.
Sincerely,
Holly

Lessons from Grief and Pain

"My grief and pain are mine. I have earned them. They are part of me. Only in feeling them do I open myself to the lessons they can teach."
-Anne Wildon Schaef



At first the pain was overwhelming. And then there came a time when the pain started to fade. And I MISSED IT. Because it felt to me that forgetting my pain meant I was forgetting my boy.

After a long while, I was able to step back from the initial grief and pain and it instead turned to tenderness towards my boy. And pride that I am chosen to be his mom.

I do think losing Gabriel taught me a lot. Patience. An appreciation for how much my parents love me. An unbefore-seen tender side of my husband. The fact that I'm a lot stronger than I ever suspected.

And mostly, a reminder to just lighten up about all the small stuff. In a flash, I was reminded of what is important. Family. Love. Our Health.

Has your grief and pain taught you any lessons?

BP/USA What Helps the Most

A few weeks ago I presented a workshop at the Bereaved Parents of the USA Conference in NYC. One workshop I attended was called "What Helps the Most" by Elaine Stillwell. Her son Denis and daughter Peggy were killed in a car accident.

I think this is a very helpful list. I'm also interested to hear why YOU think has helped you the most.

Funeral service (a ritual of saying goodbye and remembering)
Loving support (friends, family and faith)
Talking (telling our story, sharing our child)
Books (wisdom from those who have walked before us)
Expressing your feelings
Sacred Space (place and time to meditate and ponder)
A Spouse who respects your way of grieving
Crying
Notes and cards (saying 'I care')
Giving your anger a voice
The love of a pet
response from the clergy
discuss feelings with spouse and family
journaling
visiting the cemetary
yoga, treadmill, walking
give yourself a present (tell yourself it is from your child)
religion/spirituality
support group
music
vacations
exercise
writing
planting a garden
watching the growth of an amaryllis (or other flower)
planning a memorial
hobby
quilt making
welcoming their friends
establishing a scholarship
volunteering
new routines and traditions (new ways to celebrate holidays, new friends)
doing crazy things (license plate with their name, give angels to everyone)
stay in the present as much as possible

BP/USA: Grief Watch

We just got back from the Bereaved Parents of the USA Conference. It was a hard weekend, but I'm glad I went. I presented a workshop on Family Traditions: Making Memories that Include Your Child- I'll post that here in a bit. Most of the attendees had children that were older (twenties, thirties) but the one thing that struck me is this: Our kids are always our babies, no matter how old they are.

I'm going to do a few posts on workshops I attended and review the books I got in the bookstore. But can I show you my very favorite item I purchased? This little "Comfee Doll".




And also this shirt:



I just now realized both of those items are from the same site: GriefWatch.com When I went to their site to get the links, I realize that the director is Pat Schwiebert. She is the author of the book they gave me in the hospital- the book that helped so much and really made a huge difference.

When I found out Gabriel had no heartbeat, it was terrible. But the most horrifying part of it was when my doctor told me I was going to the hospital to be induced. I just wanted it to go away. I thought.

They gave me a copy of the book
When Hello Means Goodbye and I spent 3 days waiting for Gabriel to be born. In that time, this small book turned my thinking around. It reminded me this was going to be my only chance to do some things to parent my child. This book is the reason I was able to hold Gabriel, and the reason I thought to invite his grandparents to come to the hospital to see and hold him. This book was there at a critical time and I am so thankful for it.

She is also the author of another book I bought at the BP/USA conference bookstore: Tear Soup: A Recipe for Healing After a Loss I really like this book. It is the story of a woman dealing with her grief by making 'Tear Soup'. Here is the recipe:

Grandy's Recipe For Tear Soup- serves one
one pot full of tears
one heart willling to be broken open
a dash of bitters
a bunch of good friends
many handfulls of comfort food
a lot of patience
buckets of water to replace the tears
plenty of exercise
a variety of helpful reading material
enough self care
season with memories
optional: one good therapist and/or support group

Directions:
Choose the size pot that fits your loss. It's ok to increase pot size if you miscalculated. Combine ingredients. Set the temperature for a moderate heat. Cooking times will vary depending on the ingredients needed. Strong flavors will mellow over time. Stir often. Cook no longer than you need to.

Suggestions:
be creative
trust your instincts
cry when you want to, laugh when you can.
freeze some soup to use as a starter for next time
keep your own soup making journal so you won't forget

Aloha Remembered

I was invited to write about my sand site for the next SHARE newsletter, so I decided to also post here in the event that some of you may not know about this site.

I was recently invited to send in photos of my kids for a slideshow presentation. That stopped me for a minute. Gabriel was stillborn at 21 weeks and while I do have a photo of him, it is not one I often share with just anyone. And then I remembered his sand photo.

My sister wrote his name in the sand of a beach close to her home on the Windward Shore of Hawaii. It is a beach set aside as a ‘place of quiet reflection’. I love how the photo turned out- and it seems so suitable to me that it is not a permanent thing, but rather, just like Gabriel, it is here for just a minute and then gone. But for a brief moment, the world is a little different because of him.


At times it seems he was just a figment of my imagination. I am always looking to find ways to remember him and it is a comfort to see his name in print as another verification that he DID exist.


If you'd like us to write your child's name we'd love to do it. Please visit our site www.AlohaRemembered Aloha means hello, goodbye, love, peace, compassion and mercy- A perfect word for the many emotions a mom feels who has had too short a time with her baby. Aloha Remembered is a place for us to remember all our babies gone from us too soon.


peace-

emily

You Will Smile Again

Pain- has an Element of Blank-
It cannot recollect
When it began- or if there were
A time when it was not-
-Emily Dickinson

I know I found this true for me. I was grieving so hard and in so much pain that it was hard to remember that there was ever a time when I had been happy. Or to ever imagine that there might be a time when I might possibly be happy again.

And that makes it even more obnoxious and offensive when people around you go back to everyday things. Or worse, trivial, trite things.

I often read a message board on a site that is for scrapbooking, but they talk about all kind of things. And I remember there was a post "What color are your toenails painted". With like 6 pages of replies. Really? There exists a world out there where people talk about this stupid kind of thing?

And another post where the woman was upset- FURIOUS really, because her inlaws had said that for this year instead of Christmas gifts they were going to take everyone on a cruise. I remember this post was early in the year- April, May, something like that. And she was already working herself up for a family fight because instead of Christmas gifts she was going to get a free cruise. Because "she was going to be pregnant by then and wouldn't be able to drink or look cute in her bathing suit".

It took every bit of my control to not smack this lady in the head. I know so many women who wish and pray and suffer through all sorts of medical prods, pokes, pinches and examinations in the hope they will be pregnant. It isn't the kind of thing you can really SCHEDULE. And really? To get upset because you are being given a free cruise? This lady needs a dose of reality. Of perspective.

Perspective is one gift Gabriel gave to me, I think. I use to get so upset and frustrated by small stuff. And now, when I can, I really try to take a step back and think "If this is the worst thing that happens to me today it is really a pretty good day" I'm not always successful with this, but I really try.

I'm so sorry that some of us here are still in the place where it is impossible to think things will ever be 'good' again. They will. You will smile again. It definitely takes time. Hang in there.

((hugs))
peace-
emily

How Many Kids Do You Have? Stumbling Block

How do you answer this question?

I know this was one thing that was hard in the early days that kind of caught me unexpectedly. It was hard to talk about Gabriel, and also equally hard NOT to talk about him. It was wrong either way- whether I included him or not.

Even after 7 years this question still gives me pause. Usually, I just mention my living kids, unless it is someone I will know well or will have a longer relationship with.

More often lately though I've been running into people commenting what a 'perfect' family I have- two girls, two boys. I usually bite my tongue because I know it is not even-steven, not perfect. It is 2 girls, 3 boys. Or rather, it should be.

There is an 8 year gap between my older two and my younger two. A gaping hole in my family where Gabriel should be.

What do YOU say when someone asks 'How many kids do you have?'. Do you answer differently than your husband?


peace-
emily

Stumbling Blocks- What were yours?

I'm about 6 weeks out from Gabriel's day- I can't believe we are going on 7 years. Unreal.

I was thinking back to the early days. The shock. The numbness. The two-steps-forward, one-(or two or three)steps-back.

How do you help someone through those early days? What were some of the little landmines? Is there any way to 'prepare' someone for these? To make life just a little easier?

Some things that I remember being very difficult (some unexpectedly so) for me were:

Going out in public and fearing I'd run into someone I'd have to tell

Getting the mail (and the formula samples and the 'Congratulations!' mailers)

Getting a phone call from my dentist telling me I didn't 'take my dental hygiene seriously' because I asked to reschedule our appointment the day I got home from the hospital.

Seeing pregnant women (and infants) everywhere- Target, the grocery store

Being asked "How many kids do you have?" and not having an answer prepared

Telling my then 4 and 5 year old kids that we were not going to have a new baby. And the very honest reaction of my 5 year old daughter as she started to scream "But he just didn't have a chance to live!"

The middle of the night

The 6 week follow up doctor's visit

What were some things that were most difficult for you?

Beauty in the Breakdown

I want to thanks Stephanie for this honest and beautiful piece:

I didn't set out to creative. In fact, it was the exact opposite. I set out to be destructive. To smash and destroy.

I am a big believer in allowing yourself to feel your emotions, especially when they are grief driven. I think it is dangerous to bury them deep inside of you, where they will fester and stew until they have permeated every cell in your being. For me, I need to sit with my anger, my sadness, and allow it its space. I let my emotions crash over me and drag me under. I feel their weight on top of me, sometimes I am sure they will suffocate me this time, but the wave always recedes eventually.

In the beginning it was all shock and numbness. I felt nothing and so I did nothing. I sat on my couch in the dark and stared at the wall and ate cheerios.

As the shock and numbness wore off I was overwhelmed by the intensity of my emotions and I desperately needed a release. I would become so angry sometimes that I just wanted to smash everything in my house. After breaking some of our dishes I admitted to my grief counselor that I was afraid I was destined for a life of paper plates and dixie cups. She suggested I buy some cheap clay pots and smash those instead. I stopped at AC Moore on my way home and picked some up. The woman at the register began wrapping them in paper and kindly pointed out a small crack in one of the pots to me. I replied flatly that it didn't matter, I was going to destroy them as soon as I got home. It was months before I realized how odd that must have sounded.

When I got home I stood in my driveway and heaved the pots at the asphalt as hard as I could. They smashed splendidly. I loved the crashing sound they made as they shattered against the ground. When I was done I surveyed the driveway, there were shards of broken flower pots everywhere. They had been completely destroyed, and it felt good. I took a deep breath, savoring my destruction, and then went inside. My husband swept them up and threw them away. It continued like this for awhile. A wave of frustration would take hold of me, I would take it out on a flower pot or two, and my husband would take care of the mess. Then one day I picked up a few of the pieces myself. I looked at them and thought about how these broken little pieces used to be a flower pot. They used to have a purpose, they were molded into the perfect shape to hold a beautiful flower, and now they were nothing but wrecked little scraps. I started to cry as I thought of all I thought I was destined to be for Madeline, and how broken and useless I felt without her. I decided not to throw away these broken pieces, to instead give them another chance to be something. I collected them and brought them inside. With workable cement and paint I sculpted them into a mangled heart. This is me, I thought as I examined its rough edges and misshaped form. Badly broken but somehow still here.

Seeing how creation could grow from destruction was inspiring. And using my creativity to give voice to my emotions was liberating. I began painting and sculpting and writing out everything I felt. Sometimes I would begin a piece with a specific idea in mind, but most of the time I just sat down at the canvas with a brush in my hand and tears in my eyes, and I just let it happen. I can't even begin to explain how good it feels to release the those toxic feelings from my body and spread them all over the canvas.

Turning to creative expression was without a doubt the very best thing I did for myself in response to Madeline's death. I would encourage everyone who has lost a child to try to explore your emotions this way at least once. Don't worry if you don't think of yourself as an artistic or creative person, that is not at all what this is about. This is about allowing yourself and your sadness a voice. It is about expressing your honest feelings, feelings that are all too often ignored or avoided in our society. So take a moment to pick up a brush or a pen or an unsuspecting flower pot and just see what comes of it. And if it grows into something that you would like to share, I would love to see it and even add it to the community gallery at Beauty in the Breakdown (with your permission of course.)

peace,
Stephanie Cole

Stephanie is the founder of the Sweet Pea Project (http://www.sweetpeaproject.org) and the artist behind the Beauty In The Breakdown exhibit (http://www.beautyinthebreakdownart.blogspot.com)
More importantly, Stephanie is the mother to a beautiful little girl named Madeline, who passed away after 41 weeks of perfect pregnancy for reasons unknown.

Remembering Our Babies Bracelets

In the early days after Gabriel's death, it was very difficult to go out in public. It seemed there were pregnant women and babies everywhere I looked. What took me a while to realize is that I was also probably seeing women who had experienced loss, too. But although a baby dying crushes you inwardly, there is no outward sign or symbol.

An orphan is someone who has lost their parents. A widow or widower is someone who has lost their spouse. But someone grieving their child? Our language has no word for that particular person. Just mom. Grieving mom. Or dad.

How awesome it would be if we could recognize each other. If we could walk into a PTA meeting, or church, or grocery store and know that the other person we are talking to knows our particular pain. That they understand.

These rubber band bracelets were created to be just such a symbol. The white ones say "Remembering Our Babies" and have a little baby footprints. Dads are wearing these, too.

The smaller pink and blue 'swirl' ones just say "Remembering" and also have the baby footprints. They are for women with smaller wrists, or for siblings.

Because none of us should feel that we are alone.

peace-
emily

To order bracelets, please visit PregnancyLossRibbons.com I do donate from the profit from this site.

The Magic Quilt Project

As part of my participation in the March Compassion Challenge I decided to participate in the Magic Quilt Project. I had been meaning to do it for awhile- but sometimes I appreciate a good swift kick to get me going.

My entry was posted yesterday, I'm going to copy it here. But be sure to go over to the Magic Quilt Blog and see all the other stories and find out what it is all about.




When my son Gabriel was stillborn, we were blindsided. I had no idea that in this age of modern medicine babies still died. It was something that happened back in the pioneer days, or maybe third world countries. Not now, not to me.

Unreal.

Coming home from the hospital I refused to wear my maternity clothes- what a cruel joke. And yet, none of my regular clothes fit me. My mom bought me a pair of pajama pants- a field of deep blue with stars. So cozy and comfortable.

I wore those pants probably for the first month straight. I holed up in my room, watching MASH reruns and sleeping. And my family and neighbors let me do what I needed to do- shut down for a little bit. They took my kids back and forth to school. They dropped off meals to feed my kids. I remember so much love expressed from those days. Sadness, too, but lots of love.

Even still I wear those pants, even now. And I have worn them through two subsequent pregnancies and the sleep deprived days of nursing new babies. They are faded and worn, but so comfortable.

I went to the fabric store last night intending to get a piece of cloth with little bugs on it- ladybugs, maybe. (Gabriel's nickname was 'goldbug', from when we were reading a Richard Scarry book to our then 4 and 5 year old when we told them we were going to have a baby.) Or maybe a piece with butterflies- butterflies are symbolic to so many.

But I was drawn to these blues. The deeper blue in particular. They look so similar to the pajama pants. I remember the love my mom expressed when she got them for me and gave me permission to mourn. The love of those days as I grieved my baby. And the sleepless nghts and days as I have nursed my new babies. The starry design symbolic of endless love of a mother for her children, through the eternities.

This is for anyone, anywhere, remembering their children.

peace-
emily

Early Days (and Nights) of Grief

I had this email from Claire:

My 14 mos old daughter Savana Ashlan had recently passed away on Dec.11,2008 from Acute Leukemia. ...we were so unprepared and had no idea she had this till it was too late..my heart is broken into pieces..i cry everyday when i think of her since we miss her so much. But to answer your question from your blog of what helped me the most to deal with her loss is having so much faith in God, hope and prayer but i have made her memory positive by promoting awareness and contributions in her memory to The Leukemia and Lymphoma Society...many people have made donations in her name..i also believe having support from family , friends and neighbors are important and comforting..

I surround myself with angels- figurines, pictures of her around the house..remember her in the happy moments and memories we had with her, her smile the most. I've been trying to talk about her more in a positive way, the good times we had...but now the difficult thing i still struggle each day is at night, when everything is quiet,can't sleep right away since i constantly think about my baby girl and how i miss her just being with me and when i see other little baby girls it still breaks my heart - knowing my baby girl is no longer here.

Claire

I thank Claire for sharing so much with me and with us. I think she expresses so well how the early days feel as we learn to live without our darling babies, and how we can try to 'create our children's legacy' by making their memory positive.

For more info on Leukemia or to donate to the Leukemia & Lymphoma Society, click the link below.

Leukemia & Lymphoma Society

((hugs)) to ((Claire and Savana Ashlan))
Wishing us all gentle days-
peace-
emily

Stumbling Block! Other People's Pregnancies

I received this email from Amber and related so much to what she says:

Something that has been difficult for me is that I had 2 other sisters who were pregnant while I was. One who was due in October and one who was due in January (almost exactly a month before me). When I lost Gunnar, it was so hard for me to even be around my sisters. Even though I was so happy for them, it was so hard. One sister had had several miscarriages and the other had been trying to get pregnant for over 3 years. They had both had their own struggles so they each deserved their happiness. When my first sister had her babies (twins!) in October, I couldn't even go around those babies for a long time. Of course I called her and made some meals for her, but it was so hard to be around them. I finally went to see them and in doing so, it helped heal my hurt a little. When I held each one of those beautiful miracles, I cried but it felt good to in a way "fill my void".

When I was pregnant with Gabriel my sister and sister-in-law were pregnant at the same time. Actually, with my 3 siblings and my husband's 4 sisters there has been one or the other of us pregnant at any given time for the past 12 years. There may have been others pregnant at that same time. I've mostly blocked it out.

That is kind of how my brain deals with people being pregnant, even now. Isn't that terrible? It is like I am pretending they aren't pregnant until they 'SHOW ME THE BABY' (do you hear me doing a Cuba Gooding accent from Jerry Maguire?) Sorry. I shouldn't make light of it. I don't mean to. But I no longer equate 'pregnant' with the end result of 'going to have a baby'. It's terrible. I know. So cynical. It makes my husband crazy.

Anyway.

I remember specifically my sister being pregnant because we had a conversation at that time about it. She felt so bad- terrible. Guilty, almost. That she was pregnant and I wasn't. It was easy for me to be magnanimous about it because she lives in Hawaii and I didn't have to see her big pregnant belly every day. I didn't begrudge her HER baby. I just wanted mine. If you know what I mean.

My other sister in law lives here, close by. And it WAS hard to be around her. And especially when her little baby came home. But she and my brother asked permission to give their baby 'Gabriel' for a middle name. How kind to honor him in that way. I know some people do not like others using their baby's names because a name is the only unique thing we are left with. But this was kindly done and I appreciate it.

I thought it interesting that Amber expressed it was healing to hold babies. I have heard others say that, too. For me, I can not hold other people's babies. Still, today, it is hard for me. I rarely do. I will ooh and aah over them but do not hold them.

Thanks so much to Amber for sharing this email with us.

peace-
emily

Depression

I've been thinking about doing a post about depression for some time. I am kind of in two minds about it.

First of all, who has more right to be depressed than someone who has had a child die? If I want to hole up in my bedroom and watch M*A*S*H reruns and eat nothing but peanut butter sandwiches who is to say I can't? (I lost about 25 pounds the month after Gabriel died. Do you know you can lose weight by sleeping all day? Well, you can)

But here is the other side of it. At some point I need to put the peanut butter down, turn off the TV and get out again. I can't tell you when it is the right time to do that. Or even that you should. But for me, I knew it was time.

My doctor had put me on Zoloft before I even left the hospital. With my history, he just wanted me to have something to take the edge off. To make the highs not so high, to make the lows not so low. Tell a mom grieving her baby that there is a way to make the "lows not so low." I was scared not to take it. You mean if I don't take meds I could feel even crappier than I do now? Is that even possible?

Meds didn't really do anything for me. I didn't take them very long.

I never did try therapy. Maybe I should have. I never went to a support meeting in real life. It seemed that I was trying to schedule my grief to fall into 'every other Thursday from 7-8:30 pm'. And to talk about it in real life was way way too sad.

Some people DO respond well to therapy. Fantastic! I'd love to hear how you find a therapist you trust and relate to. I know I don't seem it but I am actually a very private person. It is easier to blog about my feelings than to share them face to face.

Instead, I turned to SHARE. The internet. Reading as many books as possible as I could. Trying to feel better.

When you are depressed, it is important to get help SOMEWHERE. So many times it seems that depression is just in my head. That I should be able to 'think happy thoughts' and get over it.

I did quite a bit of research online. And you know what?

Depression is considered a disease. Every bit as 'legitimate' as any other disease or other medial issue. If someone had a broken leg would I tell them to 'think happy thoughts and try to get over it'. No, I'd get them the help they need.

So how do you know if you are depressed rather than just feeling sad? This is the checklist provided by web md

difficulty concentrating, remembering details, and making decisions
fatigue and decreased energy
feelings of guilt, worthlessness, and/or helplessness
feelings of hopelessness and/or pessimism
insomnia, early-morning wakefulness, or excessive sleeping
irritability, restlessness
loss of interest in activities or hobbies once pleasurable, including sex
overeating or appetite loss
persistent aches or pains, headaches, cramps, or digestive problems that do not ease even with treatment
persistent sad, anxious, or "empty" feelings
thoughts of suicide, suicide attempts

Sound familiar? These are also the signs and mindset of someone grieving.

I know I am starting that slippery slide to depression by some other signs. They are a little more subtle.

I start hearing everything with a critical ear. My husband asks "What's for dinner?" and I take it as a criticism. My mom says "I haven't talked to you for awhile" and I take it as a criticism.

I start being 'less careful'. Like I don't buckle my seatbelt. I don't stop completely at stopsigns.

Honestly, I think if someone is questioning if they need help they probably do. Ask someone to help you get the help you need. Tell your spouse or your mom or your best friend. Call your family doctor or your OB.

If you are having thoughts of suicide PLEASE call someone asap- the suicide hotline in your city or a close friend.

You can get more info on depression at web md

I hope today is gentle for you.
peace-
emily

Signs of Grief

This list is provided as a resource. If you feel overwhelmed or beyond help PLEASE tell someone and get help. There are many excellent resources for depression or people feeling suicidal thoughts. Please do not suffer in silence. Here are some common signs of grief. They may include the following:

Physical Sensations

Tightness in chest
Tightness in throat
Oversensitivity to noise
Depersonalization
Breathlessness
Headaches
Weakness in muscles
Lack of energy
Dry mouth
Trouble swallowing
Hollowness in the stomach
sighing

Behaviors

Sleep problems
No appetite
Forgetfulness
Social withdrawals
Dreams of deceased
Avoidance of reminders
Calling out
Restless Activity
Crying
Clinging to reminders
Treasuring objects

Feelings

Sadness
Anger
Guilt
Anxiety
Loneliness
Fatigue
Helplessness
Shock
Yearning
Numbness
Relief

Thoughts

Disbelief
Confusion
Pre-occupation
Sense of presence
Hearing and seeing the deceased

How to get removed from baby mailing lists

It is a difficult time- you come home without your child and it seems like everyone around you gets back to their own lives. And then the mail starts. Little diapers in the mail. Samples of formula. Postcards welcoming your child. Milestone checklists of what your child should be doing at this stage. Each trip to the mailbox is a little ticking time bomb.

There is a way to get your name off these lists. Ask a friend or family member to help if you need it.

Contact Direct Marketing Association and request the removal of your name from any baby product mailing list. Provide your name and address. You need to request all variations of your name should be removed such as Mr & Mrs. John Doe, Mary and John Doe, Parents of Baby Doe, etc. It can take up to 90 days to take effect.

Mail inquiries to Direct Marketing Association Mail Preference Service, P.O. Box 282, Carmel, NY 10512 or visit https://www.dmaconsumers.org/cgi/offmailing to fill out an online form.

This information is provided as a service and I can't guarantee effectiveness, but it is what was provided to me. Good luck- gentle days, emily