I can't believe...

A luminary for Shiloh on Oct 15th (from Sherri)

I wrote this journal entry on the Daily Strength Forum last month. I decided to post it here now because I still feel this way. Sometimes I am in awe of the human capability to survive intense trauma.

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Wow. I can't believe I've come this far. I can't believe it's been over 10 months since I lost my Shiloh. I couldn't stop crying or even really get out of bed from Oct-Dec. I was SO utterly depressed, confused, empty, hopeless. I had no sense of purpose or direction. I couldn't brush my hair, or go outside, or see people, or make small talk, or listen to music or anything. I cried, I kept to myself, I hated the world, and I wrote about it all. Sometimes I miss those days where I could let myself FEEL EVERYTHING. It's so hard nowadays to allow myself to really revisit that pain. I think about Shiloh every minute of everyday, but it's so hard to open her memory box, so hard to let myself think about that night where I found out that her heart had stopped, the afternoon when I gave birth to her, the look of despair on my husband's and my sibling's faces when I pushed her out and she didn't move or cry, the first time holding her lifeless body. I still think about these things all the time, but I removed myself from it a bit. It physically hurts to cry so much now. I guess it's just a coping mechanism, but it makes me feel so damn guilty.

I was sitting in my Hospice parent bereavement group last Thursday and there was a new couple there. I'm glad they found this support group, but I HATE when new couples join us. Nobody should have to endure the tragedy that people like us have endured. When I saw them, just the expression on their faces, it brought me back to the first time we went to this support group- exactly one week after I gave birth to Shiloh. My husband dragged me to group. I am not the kind of person that likes to talk about my emotions to strangers (face to face at least), I do not like therapy and I don't need people seeing me blustering, crying, distraught- essentially- a mess. But Andreas said that we needed this, that we don't even know what grief really is, or how to heal, that we can't be isolated, that we have to find people that know our pain. In the end, he was totally right. I certainly wouldn't be where I am today had he not dragged me to support group. He gave me yet another, much needed outlet for my anger, disbelief, bitterness, sadness, and loss. It feels so good to be with people who understand, who don't ask you what's wrong when you randomly start to cry, or turn away when you see a baby or pregnant woman. They get it. This, right now, is all I can ask for in a friend. It's sad that I can't be comforted in any other way, but I've come to accept that this is my reality, that I'm living in a shell of myself, sustained by a broken heart.

Strange Happenings

The book I found at the swap shop

As usual, I was inspired by someone else’s experiences (Allison, this time!) to write about some of the weird, coincidental things that have been occurring since I had Shiloh last year.  I’ll start with the most distant experience.

1)    During a pertinent part of the ceremony at my father’s funeral in March (where the Rabbi was talking about how much my father loved his family), I was hit in the head by TWO leaves simultaneously (and it wasn’t even windy!). Dad and Shiloh were together and this was his way of telling me.

2)   A month or so after Shiloh passed, my friend Kristen said she kept seeing a tricycle with Shiloh’s name on it around our housing complex. She hasn’t seen it in a while, but if she does, this time she’ll snap a photo of it.

3)   I’ve been repeatedly followed and accosted by many different types of insects since December. Bees, fruit flies, spiders, butterflies- you name it… They are even around when there is no other insect in sight. It’s crazy!

4) The girl I asked to do my memorial Forget-me-not tattoo with Shiloh's birthday incorporated into the drawing, has the same birthday as Shiloh- 10/28. I was having doubts about letting her do it, but when I found this out, I realized that it was meant to be. 


5) I took Bear, our puppy, to the farmer’s market with me last month. He saw a dog that he really wanted to play with, so he was pulling against his leash and whining like I’ve never seen before. I couldn’t figure out what was so special about the other doggie. Finally, I walked him over so he could play with her.  Well, I got my answer as to why she was so special- the dog’s name was Shiloh.

6)   Allison (Christian’s mommy) has been seeing a white butterfly nearly everyday when she takes her dogs for a walk. A few days ago, Shiloh somehow popped into her head when she woke up that morning. She thought about her and Christian playing together. As she walked outside with her dogs that morning, the white butterfly (Christian) was dancing around her head and then met up with another white butterfly (Shiloh). They danced around each other playfully. This was our babies playing together.

7)  I was taking Bear for a walk yesterday morning past the swap shop in our housing complex (the swap shop is an empty apartment where people can leave things they don’t want and take things that they do) and as I was walking by staring at a huge pile of junk and books, a small, thin book on the tippy top of the heap caught my eye. It was a birthday book. The birthday was October 28^th- Shiloh’s birthday. It totally gave me the chills. 

I love getting these signs from Shiloh. They are so special. I think it’s her way of telling me that she is ok, that things with us are going to be ok.

A letter to Shiloh from Emily

 The candle Emily and Andrew lit for Shiloh on Oct 15th.

I absolutely love this letter that Em wrote to Shiloh for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day... it's so pure and so sweet.
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Little Miss Shiloh J. Simon,

I am so sorry we never got to officially meet. Still, somehow, I feel we've been acquainted.  I saw you make your mama round and happy--you were the beauty in your mother's smile, her light bouncy step. I saw you in the pride and sparkle in your father's eyes. You were created with love and in their love you shine eternally.

The ocean is a place of peace and healing--but also a powerful, awe-inspiring force that evokes emotion. Your parents are ocean people. Your dad catches waves in the sea while your mom walks along the shore and carves your name in the sand. I don't doubt you'd be a beach baby.

Tonight the many people who remember you are lighting candles in your honor. In my makeshift memorial I looked for things that made me think of you. Two shells plucked from the Santa Barbara shoreline. A plumeria blossom, like the flowers your mom picks up off of the sidewalk, posts on your website, or pins her hair.  The sweet perfection of nature.

I saw you in a painting from a friend that hangs on my wall.  The pink of your stunning nursery is reflected in the coral sunlit sky.  I can't help suspect you'd be a fun balance of tomboy and girly-girl a lot like your mama is.  A girl on the edge of the sea, looking out into the waves, strong and beautiful.  Shiloh, you aren't forgotten.

Much love,

Emily
(*Auntie Em*)

Candles for Shiloh

I just wanted to thank everyone that lit a candle for Shiloh last night. I received a lot of emails with kind sentiments and candle photos and it means so so much to me. Every small thing that other people do to help remember Shiloh makes them such an integral part of our healing journey. I am so thankful to have such wonderful family and friends. 


Above is a collage of all of the candles lit all over the world (California, Washington DC, Texas, Hawaii, Palmyra Atoll, Australia, Germany, The Netherlands...) for my Shiloh. 


Also, if you still have a photo that you haven't emailed to me, please feel free to do so- I will add it into the collage!


Love, 
Rachel

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Today, Oct 15th, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and I'm missing my Shiloh baby more than ever. Please light a candle tonight at 7.00 pm, in memory of Shiloh and all of the other angel babies. Also, I would love it if everyone could take a photo of the candle they have lit and send it to me!

Reminiscing

I am barely breathing

Lately, I can’t find the air

Since you’ve up and left me

My smiles have become so rare

Where am I, who am I?

Now that you’re no longer here

My identity and path in life

Have become so unclear

I miss being happy

I miss being so carefree

These are just a few things

That used to define me

I was never depressed

Or disheartened with life

I never felt much stress

Or have been in much strife

So much has changed

Since your heart failed to beat

Now life is dark and bitter

Instead of light and sweet

The tears come and go

With no further warning

I’d no idea it was so hard

To be in a state of mourning

Grief is hard work

Especially for my lost daughter

It knocks the breath out of me

And that’s a tall order

Never again will I feel whole

A chunk of my being- missing

Without you here with us

It’s just daddy and I- reminiscing 

Flipped

My world has been flipped

Right side up is now upside down

So what was once a smile

Is now just a frown

Nothing good that happens

Changes the way I feel

My emotions are strongholds

The deal for me is sealed

Why did you leave me? 

We only had a short time

With you in my belly

I was in my prime

Could you feel my happiness?

My joy at every kick?

I was so gleeful gaining weight

I even relished being morning sick

Did I do something wrong?

Should I have been even more attentive?

You were supposed to come out healthy

There was so much incentive

But I know we’re good parents

I feel it in all we do

Therapy, art, websites, poems

It’s all because we miss you

I wish we didn’t have to do this

You should be here in my arms

Flirting, smiling, cooing, giggling

Showing me that Simon charm

I still dream about you everyday

Almost two years in the making

Every detail of you I vividly remember

My effort to retain is almost painstaking

Forever in my heart and mind

You’ll be ‘til the end of days

We’ll be reunited again I’m sure

After walking through life’s harsh maze

-Your Mommy misses you baby girl- kisses to the sky...