Wave of Light 2021
I posted this on my social media pages tonight...and felt like it deserved its own post here too.
It’s 7pm CST on October 15th…National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.
1 in 4 pregnancies result in a loss. 1 in 160 result in a stillbirth. Never in a million billion years did I think we’d be a statistic for both of these. You hear these statistics and acknowledge them, feel sadness for those losses, but deep down you think, “That happens to other people. It won’t happen to me.” …until it does. And shatters your world.
3 years ago we had just received the most devastating, fatal prognosis for our sweet boy at his 19 week ultrasound. Something that never even crossed my mind that could happen to us…but then it did. No one should ever have to bring their baby home in anything but a carseat…but we did. A teeny, tiny little urn instead of the carseat we had ready to go that safely housed his older brother and sisters. And, if I’m being completely honest, life has never been the same since. Everything has been affected - my way of thinking, outlook on things - EVERYTHING - has been changed. No longer do I see things as happening to others but not me, but instead see things as very much a possibility that could happen and impact me. My family. Our lives. And, amidst a global pandemic, adds a super fun layer of anxiety to day-to-day life.
But despite sometimes crippling anxiety, that I’ve learned to cope and live with each and every day, there has been some pretty incredible impacts losing our sweet boy has had on our lives…and I feel like will continue to have each and every day moving forward. Clark has taught and continues to teach me so so so much. I owe my photography career to him — he gave me that push I needed to quit teaching cold turkey and pursue my dreams, and, even in this sometimes dumpster fiery season of the past 18 months, it’s been an absolute amazing, dream-fulfilling one for me…and I cannot help but thank him every single day for that, because without him, his short time with us and his impact he had on my life, I don’t know if I’d be where I am today. So while I would do absolutely anything to have his nearly 3 year old self snuggled up here with tonight, instead I cry a tear of both sadness and joy as I look into this flame and remember all the good our little guy has done for us…and for others. We just were able to donate a second Caring Cradle to Missouri Baptist Medical Center…the same place we said hello and see you later to our sweet boy. Knowing that others will be given the most precious gift they can be given - time - because of our Clark…that is truly priceless. That he may be a shining light, just as this flame is tonight, to others in the darkest, and most toughest of days.
So I wrap up this little novella (Alex here can never seem to pen anything short. Sorry.) - Big, big hugs and lots and lots of love to everyone who is also lighting a candle today -- for their own babes, for someone else's, for anyone struggling with having lost a pregnancy or baby. It sucks. So much. SO SO SO damn much. But I today and everyday hope that you find comfort in that you're not going through this alone...that you have worlds of support and love from others who are and have been in your shoes -- and that your little one(s) keep shining down bright on you from above too.