Infant loss and awareness month. I had no idea this was recognized in it's own entire month because I lived in a happy, blissful pregnancy haze where nothing could happen to MY baby. Well, it did. I am now the scary statistic, the one in four women who experience loss. The one in 160 who experience stillbirth. The one in 2,000 that experience a true knot. If you are sensing bitterness, you'd be correct. I'm experimenting with the anger stage right now. Be careful, this might not be for the faint of heart.
Strangers and people I have known for years, opened up their lives to me and shared their own stories. It took Piper's death for other women to share or maybe for me to actively listen. The topic is glanced at, carefully out the corner of your eyes as to not really see it. Why? Because is horrid. Hearing about how my child died, or any one, ever, must be gut wrenching. I know it is for me. But it happens and people need to be able to talk and hear about it. For the record, my record, I think sharing is the best form of therapy. I like to have it all out in the open and from what I am learning other people need to talk about their loved ones too, whether it's been a month or 20 years. Lots of love for all the people who have listened to me share about my daughter. I hope this month gives freedom to all the families to talk and cry out loud.
Sometimes light blooms from the dark or some cliche like that. But awareness can bring empathy, fund research, encourage prevention and give some grieving mamas a moment to tell the whole world about the beautiful thing they did. I was really hesitant to attend the Walk to Remember put on by the hospital. Not only was I having a bit of anxiety about being near the hospital I delivered at, I was anxious about the whole thing. All those feels. Good thing my sister-in- law, Carly, gave me a gentle nudge and we attended along with my niece and some tribe members. It was lovely to be surrounded by people who wanted to honor, love and send positive energy out in to the world. It did my soul some good.
Something pulled me in here to write this tonight. I had no intention of including this in my public rants but I am really striving for a raw look at what this journey looks like for me. I am equally thankful and pissed off this month exists. I am happy my daughter was so beautifully remembered and I'm sick that she isn't here with me. My heart felt like it my burst from all the sadness, love and courage that walk acknowledged. So I guess my point, yes I do have one, is you can feel whatever you want. I pile on the emotions like a buffet. Today I am mad, a little sad and a side of OK. I hope that my strength continues to be my badge but I want people to know the struggle is real, present and daily.
Rest easy PKB.
A bit of the lovely tribute, Carly, made to Pipes:
"Kai means ocean. Our family often finds ourselves on the beach, whether on vacation, on a walk, or just to watch the waves meet the sand. There is something powerful, beautiful and even breathtaking about the ocean. We each time, are reminded of our sweet Piper Kai. She never did take her first breath, but Piper Kai will always be loved beyond measure by her mother, father, grandparents, family and friends. We will never forget her, her beauty and how she has in her own way shaped our lives."
So all the feels.
Piper Kai Bennett
I will scream, sing and share her story may it be short. Our only child was born still at 36 weeks secondary to an umbilical cord accident. This is our journey about choosing life rather than existence.