Tasha: Forever Changed

My story like everyone else’s, is very unique. It also has a controversial topic related with it, abortion and selective reduction. My husband and I used a medication called Clomid in order to get pregnant. I do not ovulate on my own so we knew this was our first step in starting a family. We were shocked when I got pregnant the first month. My pregnancy started out quite normal, I was sick and tired but I was happy. When we had our first appointment at 8 weeks we were shocked to find out that I was pregnant with quadruplets. I remember laughing in the doctor’s office because I just couldn’t believe that I had four babies growing inside me. Then reality set in. How was I going to carry four babies? Would they survive? Would I survive?

We were faced with the absolute most difficult decision of our lives, try to carry quads or reduce to twins. We took a week to make our decision. It was the longest and most difficult week of my life (up until that point at least).  We were given so many statistics and hypotheticals that I probably couldn’t repeat any of them back to you if I tried. The bottom line was it was more likely that all the babies would die rather than all of them live. I would be hospitalized by 20ish weeks and the babies would be lucky to be born after 28 weeks. I knew that the chance of them surviving was little. Of course you hear of all the miracle stories where quads survive and everything is fine, but that is only half of it. Most people are not that lucky. Those are the exceptions, not the rules.  We made the seemingly impossible decision to end two of our babies’ lives in order to give the other two babies a better chance of survival.

I have so much guilt and I still wonder if we made the right decision. Of course I have had some judgment from others and honestly that is okay with me. I know that with the facts we had, we made the right choice. It is easy to judge from the outside but until you are faced with that kind of decision, you have no idea what you will do.

A week after the reduction we found out that one of the babies heart had stopped. I was devastated. At this point I was 13 weeks along and just hoped that everything would go smoothly from there. I kept thinking that we had already gone through so much that we could not possibly lose the last baby. That would just be too cruel. The only thing that was getting me through was the fact that we still had one baby to look forward too. We began planning like any other expecting parents. We planned the nursery, work, and picking out a name. I had been having other complications and was being closely monitored by my doctors. However, at exactly 19 weeks I began having contractions. This was not the first time so I was hoping it was just another false alarm. We went to the hospital just in case and just a few hours later we were informed that the placenta was detaching and the baby would be born and that he would not survive. I remember feeling like I was underwater when she said that. All I could think was “no!” This could not be happening. We had already been through so much, he couldn’t die too.

At 11:42 on October 5, 2012 I gave birth to our sweet angel baby Maddox Moore. He was absolutely perfect. He had my mouth and nose, and his dad’s beautiful shaped eyes. I am so proud to be his mom and I am so glad that I got the time with him that I did. I would go through it all again if that meant being able to hold him one more time.

I go through our decisions all the time and I wonder if we did the right thing. I know that many people will say that what we did was wrong or that they would have never been able to do what we did and others will agree that they would have done the same thing. I know that we will always wonder what would have happened had we not done the reduction. I also know that had we lost all four babies later in the pregnancy that would have been just as awful. I would have then wished we had done the reduction. I will never know what would have happened but I do know that I have to accept the decision we made and be thankful for the time we had with Maddox and the other babies we never got to meet.

You can read more about Tasha's story on her blog Forever Changed.

Tracy: How I Came to Hold You (Liam)

Following Ben's post about the forthcoming publication of 'How I Came to Hold You', we asked people in the loss community if they would be interested in sharing their stories of how they 'came to hold' their own rainbow babies. This is the first of these stories...

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I now find myself a member of a club, a club I don’t want to be part of and no-one else wants to join. Now that I’m a member, I can’t leave and very few people want to discuss this club with me. For my family and I have lost our son, or at least that’s what I hear people say. As if we lost him in the supermarket or shopping centre or forgot where we left him. If that was the case, we would simply go find him. We would travel to the end of the earth and never rest till he was found. However, we know he will not be found as, he’s not “lost”, we know exactly where he is.

In the early hours of Monday 17^th October 2011, our world came crashing down and was changed forever when our gorgeous Ethan died. He was a happy 7 month old who touched the hearts of so many with his beautiful big, blue eyes and heart melting smile.

He led a normal, happy, healthy life bringing joy to us all, but what no-one knew and what we couldn’t see was he was poorly on the inside. He had a very rare, undetectable heart tumour which, presented no symptoms. It just sat there like a ticking time bomb, growing and waiting for the day when it would destroy all our lives.

Our gorgeous Ethan, taken the day before he died

As I put him to bed that night I never imagined that it would be for the last time, I still wonder why it chose that day, that moment in time. There will always be questions Why? What if? If only?

The hours, days, weeks and months that followed consisted of getting through the day for the sake of our eldest child, she was our rock and our only reason for carrying on and getting out of bed in the morning. I found the best way to deal with my grief was to always have something to focus on, organising a charity night, planting a memorial garden etc. Then I had a new focus, I was pregnant with a “Rainbow Baby”.

Every pregnant woman has normal pregnancy worries but when you’ve a child who’s died this seams to magnify them and also bring a whole new set of worries. I didn’t enjoy this pregnancy and certainly didn’t plan or think about our future together. I had extra ultrasound scans, fetal heart scans, growth scans, hospital appointments but, still couldn’t accept that this baby would be healthy. After the first fetal heart scan I though I would feel the weight lifted from my shoulders when, the consultant said this baby had a normal, healthy heart but I didn’t. No matter how many people said this baby would be “fine” I still couldn’t believe it would be true.

One year exactly after we said our final goodbye to Ethan, I was sat in hospital waiting to be induced with our Rainbow baby boy. The next day we met our beautiful Liam.

I truly believe the only way to heal our hearts was to have another baby and would recommend this to any couple in the same situation. Its amazing how much joy, hope & healing a new baby brings.

On the other hand, it also brings all those emotions bubbling back to the surface and a whole load of new emotions. I look Liam and see Ethan, they have similar personalities and the same smile & expressions. When we are together as a family, it breaks my heart because Ethan should be here too.

The hardest thing of all, and I cannot get my head round this, is...

We would do anything to have Ethan back, but then we wouldn’t have had Liam. I would not be without Liam, but to have Liam we cannot have Ethan.

Catherine: Gabriel's Garden

When I first read Clara's email asking if I'd like to write a guest post to share Gabriel's story, I immediately accepted her offer. I'm always looking for outlets and places to share Gabriel with others and welcome every opportunity to do so. But as I grabbed my notebook and pen and sat down to write yet another version of his story, I thought about how many times I've written about his fatal diagnosis, his birth, his tiny body, his beautiful hands and miniature fingers. And I realized those are merely descriptions of him. What I really want is for others to know how Gabriel has inspired me to grow, take risks, help others and heal. What I really want is to share all of the ways in which he continues to live on.

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Shortly after Gabriel died, I felt compelled to connect with others who understood the sorrow of losing a baby. I began searching the internet and was amazed that not just a few, but thousands of people were blogging, writing, Facebook-ing, and sharing their stories. Slowly I started talking about Gabriel and meeting other people. I was profoundly touched and felt a surprising amount of comfort when other people would write his name or light a candle in his memory or simply send me a note saying they understood. Nothing they did ever erased the pain, but knowing that I wasn't "the only one," dramatically changed my perspective on grief and healing.

I realized that I no longer had to suffer silently and alone. Giving my grief a voice was powerful and having it acknowledged was radically healing. As time went by, I thirsted more and more for a sense of community. I wanted to make more connections with people who I could relate to on an empathetic level and I wanted to encourage others to do the same. I thought about how in a community, an important part of being a member is being actively involved and supporting others in the group. But what could I do? For weeks, this question remained stuck in the back of my mind.

During this time, I was busying myself with a new hobby and passion: photography. I was finding photography to be therapeutic, so every few days I went out in search of new places where I could practice. I'm not sure why, but one day I visited a botanical garden near my house here in Los Angeles. I've lived here for over a decade and never once thought about going to this garden. But something inside me kept urging me to try new things, to live life fuller and to not be afraid to explore. So I went to the garden, camera in tow, and explored. While there, I marveled at the beautiful sights and thought about how much I wished Gabriel could see this place, with all its trees and flowers and butterflies. And I realized, had it not been for Gabriel, I would not have discovered this place. I never would have known about a little piece of paradise tucked away in my own backyard, nor felt inspired to savor the simplicity of nature.

When I left the garden, the question that had been mulling around in my mind re-surfaced. I had found a place where I could heal, but just being there wasn't enough. I had found a community in which I could grow, but just being part of it wasn't enough. I knew instantly how I could combine both into a meaningful healing project.

I returned to that garden a couple weeks later, but this time I picked flowers in memory of Gabriel and other angel babies. And so began Gabriel's Garden. Now, I go regularly and every time I go, I pick and photograph more flowers than the time before. Today, the request list is longer than I ever could have imagined when I first launched the website and I've reached dozens of people through my Facebook page. I'll admit that I had low expectations when I first started, but  now I've seen that helping others even on a small scale, can lead to unexpected growth and healing.Looking back, I know it wasn't random chance that brought me to the garden. Gabriel's Garden has always been a part of my plan, just as it's always been a part of Gabriel's. To most people, it's just a garden, but to me, it's a precious corner of the world, where our paths were destined to cross.

In December, I made the decision to go back to school to become a sonographer. I considered taking out a student loan, tapping even deeper into our savings, or borrowing from the bank. I knew I wanted a new career, but I needed a way to to pay for it and none of the options were ideal. I told myself this dream was more important than money and enrolled for the spring semester with the hope that things would work themselves out.

That same week, my husband and I went for a walk close to the beach and stumbled inside a little shop that sells seashells. I wanted to buy an ornament of an angel made out of seashells. It was $10 and I thought that was too expensive for a few shells glued together. My husband said something about buying the individual shells and making the ornament myself. Genius! "And what about making a butterfly?" he asked. As soon as he posed the question, an answer immediately erupted in my mind.

The Sacred Seashore ended up being the answer to many questions. It has become the culmination of many ideas and dreams. It started off as a way to pay for my education, but it's also been a creative and healthy outlet for expressing my grief, an avenue to healing, a means to give back to organizations that help the babyloss community, and yet another way to connect with and to help other people.

I knew from the beginning that the Sacred Seashore would be a source of great healing because it allowed several things that are important to me, to intersect: Gabriel, photography, the beach, community, art, creativity, charity and helping others. I'm amazed by how perfectly it fits into my heart, and how much I've learned from the experience.

Both Gabriel's Garden and the Sacred Seashore are places of healing and strength, but they are also Gabriel's little legacies. They are where he lives on and where he will never be forgotten. They are his imprint on the world... a message of how love and beauty can transform a broken heart into a healing heart.

Redondo Beach at sunset

I know that in many ways I am unlucky. My firstborn child died in my womb. I now carry around with me the fear of never being able to have a healthy baby. I've endured the type of sorrow and pain that nobody deserves. But I realize, too, that I am so very blessed. I know that God has a beautiful life planned for me. And though that plan will likely include more pain and suffering, more loss and grief, I trust that there will also be more beauty and more healing.

For those of you in search of healing, I encourage you to look inside yourself and contemplate ways that you can grow. Challenge yourself to live a full and meaningful life. Be kindhearted and generous. Love others and love yourself. Do what is right for you and follow your own path.

Remember that healing is not a reflection of the passage of time. Healing is a perspective, a lens through which to see the world. It is not the absence of sorrow; but rather the presence of peace and spiritual growth. It is both inside and outside. It is everywhere and anywhere you are willing to go. It is real, but only as real as you choose to make it.

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You can find Gabriel's Garden and the Sacred Seashore here:

http://babyangelgarden.blogspot.co.uk/

http://thesacredshore.blogspot.co.uk/

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An addendum from Clara:

I was so pleased when Catherine agreed to write about Gabriel's Garden and the Sacred Seashore for the blog. I came across Gabriel's Garden a while ago after seeing photograph's on another blog. I loved what Catherine was doing and immediately added Molly & Grace to the waiting list. I received their photos a few months ago:

Catherine also has a facebook page for Gabriel's Garden and, every so often, offers the chance for other special photos to be done. These were the girls' beautiful Easter photos:

I have also requested starfish photos from the Sacred Seashore for the girls' forthcoming birthdays.

These are all opportunities to see the girls' names written and to have them remembered elsewhere in the world. This is something really important to me. Catherine's inspiration for starting these projects makes it even more special - every time she creates a memory for a lost child, she is creating a memory of her son Gabriel and it is truly wonderful.

Thank you Catherine (and Gabriel!) xx

Ben: How I Came to Hold You

'How I Came to Hold You' is a book about becoming pregnant after the loss of a baby, whether it be through miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death. Describing the true stories of seventeen families,  it explores the challenges and emotions faced during a time which should be joyful, but for many parents - whose loss and grief is still so raw - becomes a time of anxiety, nervousness, and daring to hope.

But 'How I Came to Hold You' is about more than that, really. It's about bravery, courage, about how much the human spirit can endure when placed under the worst stress and grief imaginable. It looks at ways in which bereaved parents can find encouragement and comfort, and gives those who have not suffered a similar tragedy an insight into the mind of a grieving father or mother, so that they know how best to approach a friend or relative who has had their child taken away.

Most of all, 'How I Came to Hold You' is a book about love. It is about the imprint and impact that a baby has on a parent's life, regardless of how long they were held in their arms. It is a declaration of love to the baby lost, but also an explanation of the arrival of the baby who followed: this is the journey we endured, the grief we felt, the love we had, my child. This is how I came to hold you.

'How I Came to Hold You' will be published on 16th April 2013, and will be available from the Sands online shop or on Amazon. Every copy sold will raise vital funds for the charity Sands. You can read more about Ben and his journey in writing this book on the How I Came to Hold You website. You can read extracts from the book here, release a virtual balloon in memory of your little one and have a read through the blog.