When Clara left us I was still pumping and freezing milk for her. We had begun adding formula to her diet but still wanted to give breast milk too. When our arms were left empty my body was left hurting. Every 3 hours my body reminded me that I should have a baby to feed. Through the funeral planning, visitation, funeral, and the next few weeks I was constantly reminded. I pumped and cried. It felt like such a waste. Any mom can tell you how difficult it is to throw breast milk away.
I stumbled upon a site about breast milk banking and realized this was what I needed to do. I called the Sioux Falls, SD Hospitals and spoke to their NICU staff. I found no place in SD to donate to but Denver, CO had a location. I made the call that not only left me in tears but also the lady on the other end. She was amazing and did everything she could to make sure Clara and my milk was able to make it to Denver. She said that every year they have about 5 mother’s who donate in memory of their child. They have a care package they send to these wonderful, caring women who in their time of loss think of how they can save others. Our milk would be used for very premature babies who still can’t tolerate formula. Breast milk is so gentle on their bodies and helps decrease their risk of things like intestinal infections or surgery complications.
Our small donation of 350 ounces made between 150-200 bottles available to these precious little lives.
Below is a chart of current donation locations. In 2010 I donated again to Coralville IA (Iowa City). That is the current location that Eastern South Dakota NICU’s receive their donated milk from. I encourage mom’s to check it out.
Each year we give to Lach’s Legacy in Clara’s memory. Our wish is that the care package that meant so much to us, is there for others. We also appreciate the “Run for Their Lives!” 5K each year and want to continue to help make it successful.
We also give in memory here as well. Some day hopefully we can detect those babies at high risk for SIDS and it can only happen with research. CJ Foundation for SIDS also is a key educator for care givers and parents on SIDS risk reduction as well as a place to seek help for creating home town awareness.
Connecting with others helps keep Clara’s memory alive. I know that I can listen to others talk about their babies and know that they will not judge me for talking about mine. Speaking her name isn’t weird or awkward because they too want to talk about their baby. It is a bond that will last a lifetime.
Last but not least I do this project in memory of Clara. I find it to create awareness to infant loss as well as help those who have never experienced the loss of a child help someone around them. This project touches so many lives. Not just mine or my friends, but all those who take the chance to read it. I find that for 31 days I can freely talk about Clara, my feelings, my projects, my heart without feeling like a burden. For 31 days I can share my faith without having to look for a “perfect opportunity”. For 31 days grieving the loss of a child isn’t hidden or shameful. For 31 days you get to see what it is like for a parent to lose a child and what they deal with 365 days a year.
Getting through each day after Clara’s passing took work. I had to find something good to focus on. It was those small things that helped me to focus less on how awful my loss was and to realize that my tears were because I knew how wonderful each day with Clara had been. I really found finding ways to celebrate her life gave me hope. Hope that maybe, some day, we could find a way to help end SIDS. Hope that the awareness we try to create will save another family from this profound sadness. Hope that when we think about her we will smile more often than cry.
My hope will always be that each newly bereaved family can find this hope too and some day smile as much as we do.
The other thing I hope for others, who just entering this grief, is that they are gentle on themselves. It is easy to blame yourself and question everything. It can consume our lives and our hearts. Grief is overwhelming. The days feel long and the nights even longer. Be gentle. Take time for you. Don’t listen to others bad advice or harsh words, they aren’t feeling what you are. Don’t rush into packing up your little ones things or to hold a baby because you don’t want to make someone feel bad. Do it because you are ready. Be gentle on your heart. Love. Hug. Pray. Find hope in each day.
Your heart will never be whole but work towards a heart that holds beautiful memories of your little one.
My husband has been by my side every day. He is so supportive and together we have learned how to understand each other feelings.
We have been there to pick the other one up when one of us starts feeling down. I can’t imagine this journey without him and fear the day when he won’t be by my side.
There are so many friends and family that have been there for us. You truly see the work of God as he brings someone into or lets someone fade out of my life.
He knows just the right person to help me, support me, guide me, hug me.
Brianne your care package was the best thing I could have ever gotten. We are so thankful to remember our baby (and yours) each year.
Tanya and Sara I know I can talk to you both and know that when we are done, I will have me heart in the right spot and my tears will be dry. You listen and offer so much support and I am blessed to have you to talk to.
There are so many others that offer support as well… Thank you from the bottom of my heart. Your love brings a smile to me every day
One of the hardest lessons in life is letting go.
Whether it’s guilt, anger, love, or loss.
Letting go is never easy,
you fight to hold on, you fight to let go.
Last year when I did this project I found myself able to let go of all the hurt and anger I felt toward others. I found that reflecting on it, writing it down, and closing that chapter really helped heal some wounds in my soul. That is why I chose to do this project again. Sometimes release can be feelings and sometimes it is something more tangible. This year I want to be able to let go of the material things that remind me that Clara’s life was real. Clara’s bedding, clothes, toys, shoes. Having had our last child it is time for me to let go of many things we bought for Clara’s birth and chose to use with the rest of our babies rather than replace. Haleigh has now outgrown all of the clothes Clara wore and is wearing the ones she never got to. So it time to give them to another family. It makes it easier to shared these clothes now that Haleigh has worn them because they are no longer “Just Clara’s”. Yet they are all we have left of Clara too. So this month I plan to pack up a few special items and release the rest. I have realized in my journey that Clara has been and always will be a part of my life and I don’t need every material thing that was hers to prove she was here.
“Some of us think holding on makes us strong but sometimes it is letting go.”
As time has passed we no longer count the time in days or months but in years. What seems like an eternity ago sometimes feels like just yesterday. Our life is forever split by “before Clara” and “after Clara” when we refer to memories. No one knows when our time here is done…remember to hug and love the special ones in your life.
“Time is too slow for those who wait,
too swift for those who fear,
too long for those who grieve,
too short for those who rejoice,
but for those who love, time is eternity.”
~ Henry Van Dyke
The frozen blossoms are a perfect example of both the season Clara was born in and also the season she passed in.
We had no idea when she was born that such a beautiful blossom would be taken by the coldness of the last winter freeze and a little bud would be forever frozen in our hearts, memories, and pictures in our home.
Today is October 15, 2013 and Pregnancy, Still birth, and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Tonight at 7pm we light a candle to remember those gone too soon.
A candle lit in memory of Clara (1/21/09- 5/12/09) and 1 for our miscarried baby (5/21/12). Thinking of all the babies lost too soon.
