Capture Your Grief 2015 - Sunrise

A cool fall morning.  As it should be, given that summer has officially come to an end.  But all is not always as it should be.  Many parents can attest to that this month, as they continue to mourn the loss of their child throughout October - Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month.

CarlyMarie, a bereaved mother and founder of Project Heal, has brought back the October "Capture Your Grief" project for a 4th year.  I participated in this project last year and found it very healing.  If you wish to read (or re-read) by blogs from last year, you may click here.

Like last year, the subject for October 1st: Sunrise.

I ride the train most mornings to go to work.  This time of year, the actual sunrise occurs while I'm about halfway to work and it's quite difficult to capture a good picture since the sun rises on the other side of the highway, behind several buildings that obstruct the view.  I was able to take a couple of pictures this morning, but none really capture the sun breaking the horizon.

As I prayed for all the parents who'd lost a child, whether it be during pregnancy or afterwards, what struck me most was the color of the sky.  It was remarkably cloudy this morning which would have made a picture of the actual sunrise very difficult.  About 15 minutes before the actual sunrise, the clouds were blue and in between all the clouds, the sky was pink.  It was beautiful, and oh so appropriate given that the awareness ribbon for Pregnancy and Infant Loss is just that - pink and blue.

As the sun was rising, the clouds stayed blue and the sky that was pink, turned white.  I found this fascinating.  The sky is usually blue with clouds of white.  It was as if the sky was using the metaphor that losing a child is the opposite of what should be.  The sky was right.  Losing a child is not something that should be.  Our children should always outlive us.

Watching the sunrise was not something I practiced often before Preston passed away.  Even when it was right there for me to savor as my day began.  Sunrises now signify so much to me.

Quietness.

Tranquility.

Peace.

It is a rare morning that I don't watch the sky change colors before my eyes and don't think of Preston.  Those moments make me feel close to him, especially when the sky is turning all different shades of colors.  Preston was so fond of bright colors.

It's a healing experience to just sit and watch a sunrise.  Even if you don't see all of it.  I find that it allows my day to start with some sense of serenity.  While the stillness of the morning can be extremely challenging without Preston, the atmosphere of calmness brings me a lot of peace, and helps me move forward with each new day.

Do you watch the sunrise here and then? How does it make you feel?

Hues of orange

Today, I'm reminded of a poem my aunt sent me about the colors that exist all around us, and how they are constant reminders of my rainbow, my angel, Preston.  I take the time to remind myself to ask my aunt if I can share this poem on my blog.  Mental note, check!

Orange isn't the most predominant color in my life, nor is it my favorite color, or a color I often associate with Preston.  I do however, am able to find him, and think of him, when I see the hues of orange whether they be as saturated as a pumpkin, or as soft as an peach, pun intended.

Whenever the sun comes up, or goes down, and the sky is filled with bright shades of orange.  There is just something about it that brings a smile to my face, and smiling always reminds me of Preston.  Sunrises and sunsets are just so peaceful if you take the time to admire them.  Of course, it becomes increasingly difficult to appreciate the shifting of the sun as Fall comes to a close.  I am always happy when I can catch a glimpse lately.  I've certainly learned to have a new appreciation for this majestic star that is our sun.

Illogically, the bright construction signs close to our house remind me of my son.  Before he passed away, I seem to recall that there was a huge orange crane just a few blocks down from our house, as construction was starting on the new highway exit which will connect just down the street from our home.  I was looking forward to it, as I knew it would shave a good 10 minutes each way on y commute to work, and 20 extra minutes with Preston made me incredibly joyful.  I still look forward to it, but for different reasons.  I look forward to the day that I don't have to drive by the hospital which is where I found out I was miscarrying baby H and where I found out Preston was gone, even if in my heart, I knew he was gone the second I received the phone call at work telling me that he wasn't breathing.  One day, I won't have to drive by that place without being forced to because there's no other way.

Preston had a mirror for tummy time, and the rim was orange, somewhat like a sunflower.  His mat for tummy time was a little pond with frogs and butterflies.  He didn't love tummy time, but when you caught him in the right moment, he did really good, lifting his head up, trying to roll over and drooling all over the mat and half moon pillow that would help with getting him to lift his head.  If he wasn't in the right mood, well he's just lay his head on the pillow, and eventually would start crying.

Lastly, the orange in the two onesies pictured below remind me of Preston.  The smaller one, preemie size, is the onesie my sweet P had on when he came home from the hospital, underneath his fleece pyjamas.  The bigger one, size 3 months, was probably one of the last things he wore.  Ironically, they both say "Pinch me, I'm cute", which he truly was.  When Preston didn't fit into preemie clothes anymore, I donated them all to the NICU where he spent his first week or so of his life.  They had been good to him and it felt like the right thing to do.  Selfishly, part of me regrets it, because it's one more thing of Preston's that I don't have, and I've lost so much already.  But, I kept the one onesie he came home with.  It's so tiny, as you can tell.  And it reminds me of how good it felt to donate those clothes for babies who needed it.  No one wishes that their child will be born early and need to stay in the NICU.  I would assume that there are rare occasions where you know that it will happen, but in the majority of cases, my guess is that it is unexpected and not something you can prepare for.  We didn't have any preemie clothes.  We borrowed a lot from the NICU and by the time it was time to go home, we'd bought and been gifted several onesies and pyjamas.  I've always enjoyed giving more than receiving, and I think it's still true because, when asked "what do you want for your birthday or Christmas, I never have an answer".  So, I did the right thing, even if I miss being able to look at the onesies, and I rarely look at the ones I do have.  Little ones are using them every day, and I hope that they all live a long, healthy life.  Maybe, just maybe, a little angel is watching over the wee ones that wear his clothes as they fight to grow bigger and stronger whispering gently to them "you can do it".

#CaptureYourGrief - Day 1: Sunrise

Let me paint you a picture since the picture above does not begin to really capture the sunrise I watched this morning.  The high skies were painted with a royal blue.  Scattered across it were gray colored clouds and the bottoms of these clouds appeared to be flattened.  Orange, yellow and white appeared in that order from the horizon which the sun was about to pierce through.  Farther away from this location, the lower skies appeared green, and yellow.  You can sort of make it out if you look on the left side of the photograph.

As the train made it's way north, towards Denver, pink started entering the equation, replacing the green and the orange, kissing the clouds with its vibrant color, all the while softening the higher clouds by adding brightness to their bottom layer.  Purple also made it's appearance.  The sky looked radioactive.  Clouds of pink and purple, high skies of baby clue, lower skies of bright orange.  It is not 6:45, ten minutes from the actual sunrise.  I snapped a picture as I knew, I wouldn't be in an area where I could take pictures until I arrived at work.

Orange was returning, replacing the pink as the sun nears the horizon.  Then yellow.  Suddenly, everything starts to become brighter.  Birds fly into my view, making for an even more stunning sunrise.  The bottoms of the flattened clouds are now turning yellow as the sky turns bright white where the sun is beginning to come into view.  And now, the clouds turn white, as the rainbow colored sky disappears, as if it was a mirage.  Remaining in the sky, is the blue color we know it to be on a clear day.  Snow capped mountains can now be seen.  Everything now has color instead of being wrapped in the blue hues of the night sky.  Somehow, the rainbow of colors that kissed the sky just minutes ago  has spread to everything I'm blessed to see.

I spent the train ride admiring the sunrise.  Thinking about my son, who grew wings 6 and a half months ago.  Thinking about all the others angels I've come to learn about, and love.  I thought about all the other grieving parents out there, looking at the same sunrise I was and I felt peace.  I didn't feel alone with my pain.  I prayed that our angels were well, having a jolly time.

The first thing I did when I got to the office was to snap a couple pictures.  Since I didn't actually capture the sunrise it's self, but more the moments leading up to it, I felt it would be poetic to snap a few more to capture the moments following the sunrise.  Beautiful isn't it?  That bright spot right in the middle caught my attention.  I took a closer picture.

I couldn't for the life of me figure out what this brightness was.  If you look from left to right, it looks like a sleeping angel.  The wings on the far left, below the head of the sleeping angel, hands folded on his/her chest.  Is it just me that's seeing this? Do you see it?

I want to thank Carly Marie and her healing project "Capture Your Grief" (click for link) where every day in October, you are invited to share a picture based on the daily word and guidelines.  This can be something you share, or just for yourself.  You must use pictures you take, and not pictures you find on the web.  Today, the word/inspiration was "Sunrise".  I hope to participate every day if possible, or catch up if needed since I will be out of town.  Regardless, it's an inspiring way to deal with my grief, and to continue sharing my story and experiences.  October is Pregnancy, Infant and Child Loss Awareness month and I think this is an excellent, positive way of sharing the fact that there are a lot of bereaved parents among us.