Our deepest fear.

I have had several discussions recently with other BLMs, friends, family, doctors, colleagues and acquaintances, about the power behind being a baby-lost parent. The power that comes with talking about your dead child, and the power in the words "my baby died". It is like a brick, shattering through the "crystal palace dreams" that some people have about life.

When you tell an unsuspecting person that your baby died, the expression on their face usually tells it all. Their shock, dismay, and guilt is usually summed up with an "I'm so sorry, I didn't know... If I had known, I wouldn't have....That is just awful". Sometimes a tear or two, a unsuspecting hug, or you just see the shoulders slump, and the head drop. It really just lets the air out of the high flying balloon that they were riding that day. And that is a powerful thing. It is very powerful that my daughter and I have that power to make people stop..and potentially think.

I remember when Kherrington passed away. As a mother, and as a woman, I felt inadequate and a failure. I couldn't even pick up on the fact that something was wrong. What kind of parent was I. But with LOTS of counselling, and the ability to talk about her, I have discovered that us baby lost parents are powerful beings.

I was watching a movie this afternoon..Coach Carter. It is based on a true story of a coach of a inner city basketball team. While trying to change a young man who was heading for trouble, this coach repeatedly asked him "What is your deepest fear?". The young man answered with this, and I instantly paused the video and wrote it down. As baby lost parents we have plenty of fears, but it think for most of us, this sums it up.

"Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us. Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We were all meant to shine, just as children do. It is not just in some of us, it is in everyone. And as we let our own light shine, we unconsciously give other people permission to do the same. As we are liberated from our own fear, our presence automatically liberates others."

9 months

So, Kherrington would be 9 months old tomorrow. What do I say to that? It seems as though time has slipped away from us, especially with "bump" growing and showing us that she is there.

Kherrington sure left her mark, like we knew she would. I'm pretty sure she is what is making me pause and say "was that your sister kicking?..no.. it is just gas. If I knew it was your sister for sure, I'd go crazy when she is not moving". She is what made me fill my arms with cute onesies last week at the superstore, then pause and put them all back on the rack, when I realized "I have stuff at home". She is the voice in my head that says "Just wait a few more weeks before opening up that room or buying a lot of stuff".

About two weeks ago at work, I was working with one of the supervisors on a project. When our meeting was finished, we were just chatting about this pregnancy, and about Kheri. He looked at me and said "But you know, when this one comes along, you'll forget all about her"... My heart skipped, my jaw dropped. My biggest fear is people forgetting. I know we sure won't, but I know some people will. He continued to say "When this one comes, you'll be so happy that it will make it better for you". I immediately said " No, I don't think so. I know I can't forget. I know I'll wonder in the fall of 2028 which college/university she would have gone to". He then did what most people do...stutter and trip over their words until they finally just shut up.

Anyway, Kheri would be 9 months old tomorrow. That is all.