Touched By Grace Part Five

Raphael’s birthday pumpkin and flowers!

Raphael’s birthday cake!

Our society doesn’t really allow time for grief. After the funeral, people pretty much go back to their everyday life activities, friends and family leave and life goes on. For me this was really the worst part of the experience. Our baby’s funeral was on a Tuesday. My friend went home that afternoon. The next morning my husband went back to work, and I tried to homeschool our other children. I felt as though a great disaster had happened, but that I was the only one aware of it, the only one that it affected, the only one who had been scarred inside and out. I was totally into myself and into my grief.

First of all, I could not run away from my own body, which had been half way through a pregnancy. I had unwanted pounds and inches to lose and the only clothes that fit me were maternity clothes. My own body was the awful reminder every day that there had been a baby, and now there wasn’t. My breasts ached, my pelvis was sore as it tried to contract back to its normal size, I had night sweats, my hair was falling out and I hated myself.

I was also very mad at God. My reasoning was if God could kill an innocent baby in its mother’s womb, then he obviously could take me anytime he felt like it. No seat belt was going to protect me from the inevitable – so I quit wearing mine. I just dared God to smite me in some terrible fiery car crash. And hey… if we all gotta go sometime at the whim of God, then what’s the harm of eating whatever the hell I want… So smite me oh mighty smiter!!! In short, I was having a rebellious temper tantrum.

I had had other beloved people die in my life before. My goal then had been to get through grieving, find a way to live without them, and go on. I felt that when I got to the day where I didn’t think about them once in a 24 your period, I was done grieving. That, in my experience, took about a year. It’s not that I didn’t think about them at all, it was just that my thoughts weren’t obsessed with them, and that the thoughts I did have were happy ones. That I had a good past to remember, cherish and pass on.

But it’s different with a baby. That’s a loss of potential. There was no shared life, there were no happy experiences to remember. And what troubled me the most was, if I forgot my own baby, who else would remember!?

I carried Raphael’s rosary around with me all the time, in my pocket or in my hand. I never put it down. I also found myself going to the cemetery every day. At least once. Sometimes twice. Sometimes more. Need something at the grocery? No problem. I always went the extra 10 or so miles out of my way to go by the cemetery. My kids started to groan when they saw the direction I was heading the van. They knew where we were going. And they only went part of the time. I went lots of times without them.

I also became obsessed with eBay. I loved buying things and then waiting for them to come. Didn’t matter what really, it was the anticipation of having something arrive that I had been expecting, particularly around the time of my due date I had all kinds of little purchases showing up. The kids thought it was like Christmas. It helped. It wasn’t like getting a new baby, but in a way it took the edge off.

My sister-in-law though sent me a rosary though, with purple heart-shaped beads, with a silver chain, that she had made herself, to commemorate my loss and as a gift to share my grief. That really touched me and I think was one of the first steps in my return to normalcy. I bought a tapestry rosary bag and I keep Raphael’s rosary and my purple heart rosary together. I use them both.

All of the kind letters, cards, notes that I got from people really helped too. Don’t ever thing that sending just a card is no big deal, or that it won’t touch someone. I kept every one of them and read them over and over again and I was just so amazed at the people who took the time and trouble to send them! They all meant the world to me. And I resolved to become a better card sender myself once I saw how important those cards and letters were.

A big day for me was the day I received Raphael’s certificate of life from the Shrine of the Holy Innocents. It has his name on it in calligraphy. All the children who are enrolled in the shrine are in a huge book in this church in New York City and their little souls are prayed for at a special mass once a month. That was really a comfort for me. He’s remembered somewhere. He is on record somewhere. We framed his certificate and it hangs on our living room wall.

I also bought this personalized picture of Jesus holding our baby. It’s personalized with Raphael’s name. I have all of my children’s pictures on our buffet, and this picture for Raphael is there too. I have six children. I really do.

Other things helped as well. It had disturbed me that Raphael didn’t have a gown because he was so tiny One day while surfing the net I came upon these very easy-to-sew burial pouches. I made one up and had some friends and young girls at church work on some for a church project and then I took them to a local hospital. Maybe some other mom will be able to use these for her baby and it will bring her some happiness during her time of tragedy.

My trips to the cemetery became less frequent although I still go out at least once a week. I bought a very beautiful cemetery urn for flowers, and during the growing season I make sure it is full of fresh flowers. My little girl knows the drill. We throw out the old flowers, and then get fresh water for the new ones. She’s quite the little helper.

Interestingly, these cemetery trips have become a real blessing for me The lady whose baby is buried next to Raphael, had a son named Austin. Austin died in 1990. He was a cute curly haired little toddler who died from E. coli. Apparently Austin LOVED the Ninja turtles, particularly… Raphael! So when his new neighbor turned out to be Raphael, this mom was kind of excited about it! and that made me happy that we had picked out a name that would remind her about something special in her own son.

I’ve met some other nice people there too. One lady comes once a month to put flowers on her baby nephew’s grave. She had just gotten married for the first time at age 41 and was hoping to have her own baby. We had a delightful conversation and I told her I would pray for her. I haven’t seen her since but I wonder if she ever got pregnant.

I met another gentleman whose twin boys died back in the 1960s. He always puts a little something on their grave site. Their sister is now a young woman and about to get married! But he never forgot about his boys.

I could do a whole blogging on just my cemetery visits and all of the nice folks I’ve me there!

It’s been two years now. Last year, the birthday was really hard on me. This year it was much better. I don’t know if expecting a new baby helped, or if it was just the distance from the event. Maybe both.

With time though I’ve gained some perspective. I wear my seatbelt now! As I thought about it more and more I think God had prepared me throughout my life to be Raphael’s mother. I remember when I first heard about what a stillbirth was when I was around 12 and the idea of dying before you were even born held an odd fascination for me. I started reading stories and articles about it – kind of odd for a young girl. I also had a fascination with angels, and the afterlife and all of that sort of things. Where do innocent babies go? I certainly had a mindset to think about this sort of thing. And as I thought about it later, I think it was God preparing me for what I had to endure.

I think God also arranged Raphael’s birth in a way that I could handle it. Mr. Pete in the bathroom naked… well you just couldn’t arrange a funnier story than that! And to have him come on All Saints Day. I think that was God’s hand, His way of saying, “I’m here, I’m handling this, Trust me.”

I’ve learned to be a better griever. Before I was sort of in a hurry for people to sort of “get on with their lives.” To “get over it.” Now I realize the experience of grief sort of becomes a part of you, you don’t get over it, but you incorporate it into your being. I don’t try to be the happy camper in front of a grieving person any more. I think there’s a time for sadness and I think that needs to be recognized and respected.

Mr. Pete and Izzy enjoying cake while celebrating All Saints, All Souls and Raphael’s birthday, at Raphael’s place!
I learned to appreciate my other children more. I’ve learned to appreciate my own fertility as well, and to see all the times of my life as a gift and try to get the most out of them, (which is probably why I go a wee bit ballistic trying to explain to folks about what’s wrong with contraception!) I think it made me a more prayerful person and I think it has made me think more about my own eternity. I want to meet this little person who I am sure is in heaven. I have to make sure I get the opportunity by living life that pleases My Heavenly Father.

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