It is not growing like a tree
posted on 12/05/2008
It is not growing like a tree
In bulk doth make Man better be;
Or standing long an oak, three hundred year,
To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere:
A lily of a day
Is fairer far in May,
Although it fall and die that night-
It was the plant and flower of light.
In small proportions we just beauties see;
And in short measures life may perfect be.
Comments (0)04/05/2008
A gorgeous little angel,
too precious for this world,
has taken his place in heaven,
his wings are now unfurled.
He is looking down upon you,
waiting for the day,
that he can again be with you,
where in your arms he'll stay.
He waits in heaven patiently,
and when the time is right,
he'll be by your side and guide you,
into the eternal light.
Until that day is here,
He'll watch over the ones he loves,
and send you lots of angel kisses,
from his nursery up above.
Comments (0)08/02/2008
The Story of Little Bear
Author Unknown
Once upon a time, my dear, there was a little bear whose name was Ted. He was a very special little bear, for his was the best boy in the whole world... well, at least in the Beforetime.
Today, you see, he was a sad little bear. He sat at the side of the road and looked as though a tear would drown him. He was the scruftiest, muftiest little
bear you ever did see and just by looking at him you would never know how special he was. It just so happened that Nana Bear was walking down the street on her way to town when she saw Little Ted looking ever so sad and stopped to talk to him.
"Why are you so sad, Little Ted?" said Nana Bear kindly. "You used to be the happiest little bear in the land."
"That was in the Beforetimes," answered Little Ted, sad-as-sad could be, "I don't have my boy any more. I've lost him, I'm never going to find him again and I am so unhappy."
"Well," said Nana Bear. "Suppose you tell me all about it." And she sat down on the tree stump by the side of the road, settling herself in quite comfortably and waited for Ted to tell her his story. But he didn't say a word.
"What was your boy's name?" asked Nana Bear. She knew quite well what the boy's name was, for everyone had known what a special boy he had been. But she wanted to hear Little Ted say his name.
"Christopher," answered Ted, and he hiccupped. A big tear started to roll down his face and straight away he stopped it and was Very Very Brave.
"Why, Little Ted, whatever are you doing?" asked Nana Bear, very puzzled, seeing the tear stop rolling on an instant and the Very Very Brave face freeze Ted's face like concrete on a very hot day.
"I'm being Very Very Brave," answered Little Ted, bravely. "Very Brave," he added on, just to make sure she knew what a good little bear he was being
"Well," said Nana Bear. "But WHY are you being Very Very Brave? It doesn't look like it makes you very happy and I am sure I don't know what good of a thing being Very Very Brave is if it doesn't make you happy."
"The Bear by the Field said I must," said Little Ted, wisely. "He said that losing your boy can be Very Very Hard and I must be Very Very Brave."
"Oh," said Nana Bear, thoughtfully. "Tell me, Little Ted, what else did the Bear by the Field tell you?"
"Well," said Little Ted, remembering as best as he could. "He said that I would get another boy soon and that would make everything better."
"Oh," said Nana Bear, even more thoughtfully. "And would it make everything better if you got another boy right away?"
Little Ted sat mournfully. "No one could ever be the best boy that Christopher was. He was wonderful and he loved me ever so much. I don't think any other boy would ever be as good."
"Ah," said Nana Bear, "I see. And what else else did the Bear by the Field tell you?"
"He said that I would feel much better soon. 'It's just a matter of time' he told me, 'just a matter of time.. But Nana Bear, I don't want to forget Christopher. I want to remember what a nice boy he was. Does that mean in time I will forget all about him?"
"Oh, I don't think so, Little Ted," said Nana Bear. "When you love someone as much as you loved Christopher, I don't think you'll ever forget him. What else did the Bear by the Field say?"
"He didn't," said Little Ted, sadly, "I wanted to talk about Christopher and he didn't. I said I wished I had my boy back and he said he thought the corn would grow nicely. I said I wanted to remember my boy forever and he said what nice weather we are having. I suppose that all the bears are tired of hearing me talking about my boy."
"Oh Little Ted," said Nana Bear, "Come up here this very instant and not a second longer."
Little Bear climbed up on Nana Bear's lap. He was very glad to be there because it was hard being Very Very Brave all the time and it was so good to have someone hug and cuddle him again. He did not realize what an all-alone feeling it had been without his boy to hug him and kiss him. He snuggled down in Nana Bear's lap, his heart aching for the missing of Christopher.
"Should I tell you what I think, Little Ted?" she said softly as she stroked his little bear head. "I think that Christopher would want you to cry if you were sad. If Christopher was peeking from behind those bushes and saw your Very Very Brave face, why he might not even know it was you.
"And I will tell you what else I think... Maybe one day you will find another boy to love and who will love you very much. But the little soft fuzzy spot in your heart that belongs to Christopher will always be just for him and not for your new boy. Your new boy will have his very own place that you will make just for him.
"And I will tell you what else I think. Time is a taker of many things, but not a taker of heartache. All the time in the world will not stop you missing Christopher. But time cannot steal your memories and cannot take away all the good times you ever had in your whole lives together.
"And, Little Ted, of course you must talk about him. You loved him so much and it would be hard not to talk about him. You must pick your very good friends who loved him ever so much and you can talk about him together. And there's a spot right here on my lap whenever a Christopher-thought needs to be spoken."
"Oh thank you, Nana Bear," breathed Little Ted softly, "Thank you so much for telling me that. And Nana Bear, tell me this, just one more thing, can I be
happy again one day? Am I supposed to be sad for my boy forever"
"Oh what a wonderful thing that will be when you have happy thoughts," said Nana Bear. "After all, you have only lost your boy for a short while. Boys aren't like socks in the dryer, never to be seen again. In the Big Cloud in the Sky, in the Aftertimes, you will see him again. In the meantime, you have to love the world for him because he cannot do it by himself anymore. When you see a little butterfly flying around, you must look at it for your boy, and laugh for him and dance with it for him. You must live all the happiness left in the world and store it up in your heart to take for him when you see him again. When you are ready, you can begin to store those happy thoughts, Little Ted, when you are ready."
And a big tear rolled down Little Ted's face, and another and another. Pretty soon, there were so many tears he made a puddle, and the puddle made a bath.
Pretty soon, Ted was all wet and before you know it, he was clean as a whistle and didn't look anywhere near as scruftie-muftie as he did before. And the tears made the flowers grow and the butterflies come and before you knew it the world was clean and sparking and wonderful again.
Did Little Ted every stop missing his boy? Oh, no, never in a million years. But he learned that it is a fine thing to cry and get the fur all nice and clean and he learned that tears grow flowers and flowers bring butterflies. And Little Ted learned that one day, in a long and far off time a bear and his boy would see each other again, but until that time he would keep his eye out for joy-things to store up and take as a great and wonderful gift to the best boy who ever lived in this whole wide world.
Comments (1)The Pit
posted on 17/01/2008
The Pit
The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief. My friends watched me struggle through daily life; waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit, not realizing "she" is gone forever.
The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair; it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration. The pit leaves you forever changed, unable to surface the person you once were.
Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit, waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes, not understanding whats taking me so long to emerge. After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime. Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.
Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit. Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness. They climb side by side with me from time to time, but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau. Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.
Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say, "Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know. These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs. You know ... the "better them, than me" attitude.
My post-grief friends are the ones who climb with me, side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit of grief. They have no way of comparing the pit climber to the pre-grief person I once was. You see, they started at the bottom of the pit with me. They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting, and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength. They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be. They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life, but they also accepted the person I've become. The "person" who is emerging from the pit.
Author Unknown
Comments (0)Bailey's Story
posted on 12/01/2008
As Bailey's second birthday approached I sat down one evening and wrote Bailey's story. I had hoped it would help me sort out all the mixture of emotions that were going round in my head. I don't write as well as Nigel, but this is Bailey's story in my words.
Nigel and I were (and still are) in the process of adopting my niece Courtney who we've had since she was 9 months old, when I discovered I was pregnant. We were so excited about having another baby and Courtney was thrilled at the thought of having a baby brother or sister. She was six at the time and couldn't wait.
My pregnancy went well and the only problem was that I had protein in my urine but it had been there from the beginning.
When I was 26 weeks I was involved in a car accident. Thankfully no one was hurt but my mum and Nigel wanted me to go to the hospital and be checked over, 'just to be on the safe side'. When I got there they asked for a sample which they said had protein in it but I explained it always had. They done my bp and said it was a bit high, which I thought was hardly surprising having just been in an accident.They decided to do a scan and said that there was no fluid around the baby. I hadn't lost any so it was a bit confusing. They said they thought that the baby was a bit small too and they would like me to come back the next day for a more detailed scan with my consultant. I went home thinking that it was a lot of fuss and I would drink plenty of water and everything would be fine!
We went back the next day and the consultant came to do the scan. She asked a nurse to help her with the settings as she wasn't used to this type of scanner. When she done the scan she told me that the baby had lost almost all the fluid and was about 3 weeks behind in growth. She said that 'the wee baby isn't very happy in there' and should be delivered sooner rather than later. I remember thinking that the wee baby should just get used to it because we're not all happy all of the time. I think it was partly shock and partly because she's made it sound like it was having a wee huff. As she was talking, my worst fear was that they would want me to come in to the hospital for rest until about 36 weeks. She told me that I would have to be transferred to another hospital with more specialist care. I asked if that meant I'd have to go there when it was time and she just looked at me with a small smile and said that I would be going now by ambulance. I remember telling her that she couldn't keep me in as the next day was new years eve and they didn't keep you in hospital at new year when there was nothing wrong with you, and I felt fine. She just took my hand and then it started to click. I asked her when she said sooner rather than later what she meant and she said probably within the next couple of days. She told me to wait and see because the R.V.H would know better than them when they had done some tests. I reasoned that she didn't even know how to work the machine so she was probably wrong and I'd be home by evening.
The ambulance came and I was instructed to lie on my left hand side to give the baby the best chance. Another lot of fuss for no reason! When we got to the R.V.H I was taken for a detailed scan and a doppler test. When it was over they said that the baby was very small and the cord had deteriorated so badly it was at the worst level possible. It was working so badly that it was actually taking goodness from the baby at times. If the baby was left in there it would have 24/48 hours to live. That's where reality kicked in and I knew I didn't want to have a baby that I would see and touch and then it would die. I told them I'd like to go home and wait for it to die natuarally. The doctor explained that I had pre eclampsia and that if I went home it was only a matter of time until I would die too. I remember saying that that was fine but I didn't want to get to know a baby and then lose it. Poor Nigel was beside himself but I was determined. A doctor from the N.I.C.U came to see me and told me that all things taken into account they could probably give the baby a 40% chance of surviving with 'major abnormalities'. It was then that I thought that the odds were quite good and agreed to have the baby. It was decided to try and keep me until the next morning until I could get some steroids for the baby's lungs. It was the longest night and I wanted to run away but the next morning they took me for a ceserean. They said when the baby was born they'd look at his colour and breathing etc and score him. I told them if it looked like it wouldn't make it then I didn't want to see it.
At 12.42 on the 31st December 05, I was told that I had a little boy, Bailey. There was no cry as he was too tiny but I immediately started to turn around to try and catch a glimpse of him. I forgot my own rules! I could see him in the corner but he looked like a little kitten. Bailey was 500g (1lb 1oz) but had scored 7 out of 10 in his initial checks. We dared to have hope.
Bailey gave us good days and bad days. When he was 5 days old he developed meningitis and ecoli. I looked at him and wondered how a baby who was the same weight as a half a bag of sugar could possibly beat those two things together. One of those was enough to kill an adult, but two? And here was Bailey with a head the size of a big plum, looking up at us and determined to fight. Bailey fought hard and beat both infections. He then developed another that only one of the consultants had ever heard of. He beat that too. We were beginning to see that Bailey was a fighter and believed he could fight anything. Bailey caught another infection. This time it was N.E.C an infection of the bowel. I have to say that by this time I thought he was invincible and could fight anything.
Bailey deteriorated to the point where they came to us and asked us to turn his machines off but we wouldn't hear of it. Our son was a fighter and he would fight this. Two days later we went home for a few hours sleep and when we went the next morning Nigel went to speak to the doctor to tell them not to talk to me about machines being turned off. When he came back he told me that Bailey had deteriorated a lot over night and the doctors had said he was going into multi organ failure. His tissues were breaking down and as a result he had lost two of his 4 drips and they couldn't be replaced. They had said that there was a chance that either his stomach would burst open or his heart would rupture. I thought they were trying to pressure us again because they needed the bed so I went to see my son. Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw.
I took one look at Bailey and I let out a cry. I had to be helped from the room. Bailey had swollen to about three times his size and truly did look like he was going to burst. His skin had turned yellow and there were areas that had started to turn black. I could see why they were losing the drips and knew in a matter of time his other two would fail and he'd die without the morphine. Nigel and I realised that we had to let him go. If it was left to Bailey, we had no doubt that his stubbornness and determination would be his downfall. He wasn't going to let go. We talked about it and knew it had to be soon, we didn't know how long the drips would last and it was Courtney's birthday the following day. We didn't want her growing up never able to enjoy her birthday. We called for family and friends to come and meet Bailey and to say goodbye.
Courtney spent the day with Bailey holding his hand and talking to him. Bailey was dreadfully ill but spent the whole day looking at us. I begged him to close his eyes, but he was determined to see everyone. I didn't want him to look at me that day. It was too hard. I asked for 5 minutes alone with him and sang him Jesus loves me and told him how sorry I was that I couldn't help him. I asked him to close his eyes and told him he'd done enough and it was time to let go. He didn't listen though, he had people to meet.
That evening we began to notice that Bailey was flinching and the nurse said the morphine wasn't working very well. He wanted to squeeze our fingers too which he had never done. He hated being touched. As soon as I saw him in pain I knew it was time. I asked Nigel to send everyone away and as soon as everyone left they disconnected his machines. Bailey only lived for a few minutes but he lay in our arms and looked up at us. A look that will haunt me forever. I am so scared that he thought we were giving up on him. The day before his funeral a friend wrote a poem that began 'A little angel whispered, Bailey it's time to go' We didn't see an angel that night and we didn't hear the whisper but Bailey heard the call and at 9.50 he closed his eyes and took a little breath before going home. Our loss was Heaven's gain.
I didn't want to hold Bailey, I could see by his colour that he was gone. I don't remember much about leaving the hospital, I remember hearing a loud cry and then realizing it was me. I didn't want to make a scene as I knew there were parents in the unit that needed to be strong for their babies but I couldn't stand and the sobs shook my whole body. I was helped to the car and that night we left the hospital two very broken people.
Bailey had a post mortem, I had to know we had done the right thing. His entire intestines were gone. He had a piece the size of a baby finger nail. I thought that this would make it easier to live with but it doesn't.
We are very proud of Bailey and the fight he showed. We truly are proud to be called his parents. He'll be in our hearts....Always!
Comments (5)
