I am without consistent internet access, thus the serious lack of consistent blogging. I miss it, though.
We've been invited to take part in a memorial walk/ceremony for babies lost this year through miscarraige, still birth and early infant loss. I'm conflicted about what to do. I feel as if I've done enough ceremonies. But, the catch for me is that they are reading the babies' names aloud, if parents wish. I would get to hear her perfect, beloved name.
We can also write a poem or remembrance for our little one, our Hazel. I asked Chris if he wanted to, but he declined, so I've been working on one over the last few days. It's very imperfect. I'm too emotional about losing Hazel to write something dispassionate or observant, so it's just raw, I guess.
We knew how to prepare for you:
Clothes and diapers washed,
Room rearranged,
Siblings excited.
But we don't know how to mourn you:
Memorials? Walks? Tears?
Gardens? Jewelry? Books?
Poetry? Talk? More Talk?
How can we even begin to mourn you?
Your curls, your chubby legs, your stubborn kicks.
But we learn, we cry, we even smile.
We live with your loss,
our sweet baby girl, born still.
Today marks 5 months since Hazel's death, nearly 5 months since her birth day. Getting this invite in the mail has made the last few days very difficult. I'm weepy and on edge again. But we are living, pretty fully I must say, and I suppose part of that is allowing ourselves to feel grief when it comes up.
