Sunday, November 10, 2013

This Thing That Happened: My Fallen Leaf

A little over a month ago I was 20 weeks pregnant with my third child, today I am not. Internally I have debated as to 'where' to place the thoughts and musings of my heart on this topic. Since this old blog is a little place that is solely mine, it feels appropriate to let cyberspace become my catharsis and unload some of my latest, and most sentimental work here.

Miscarriage and stillbirth are statistically common. Having now experienced my own pregnancy loss I wonder how all these women have walked around me silently coping, moving forward, unseen. I look in the eyes of those that have shared their own stories with me and I see the past that still lingers in their heart and the maturity and solemn strength that has been infused into their character. I see these silent mothers all around me, and my heart wants to touch their heart and say things to them that I can't put into words, things that only hearts know how to say.

I labored with that baby boy, just as I had labored with my first two children, but this time as each contraction passed I watched an imagined dream slip away, his name, his smile, his first steps, his place in our family, his little image in the family pictures that I was planning for the Summer, his presence in my life, gone, no longer to be. Suddenly there was no need to spend hours scouring thrift stores for a crib, or for upgrading to a minivan, there was suddenly no reason at all for anything I had been planning. It was empty labor, purposeless to the core.

His whole body fit in my hand. I knew his spirit had moved along sometime before, that this miraculous little body was all that remained of the child I had imagined would be ours in 20 more weeks. Ten toes and ten fingers so very small. I am so grateful I was able to hold him, to bring closure to the circumstance, to say goodbye, for now.

Outside my door at the hospital a symbol was placed that alerted those entering my room as to what 'type' of patient I was. The image was a fallen leaf with a single teardrop on it. I didn't realize it was there until the end of my stay when it was given to me with my discharge paperwork. For days after leaving the hosptial I would look at that picture and remember my little angel baby's tiny body and let a few of my own tears fall.

I created these images to represent my experience, to show gratitude towards the wonderful staff that cared for me at the hospital, to celebrate the silent mothers in this world, and mostly to remember my little one, who one day I will see again.

And so my life moves on in hope, and peace.

Life is not ever what we plan it to be, it is strangely unpredictable, and always, when you think that you have got yourself figured out, and your goals aligned, Life will force you down a path that you had not anticipated.

Life, I have learned, is more about the winding paths and uncharted territories, than the road we so clearly see before us. Life is all about change.

(I hope these images can be used to bring hope and inspiration to those in need. They are available for personal use only, it would be a copyright violation to use them for business purposes, mass production, or other non-personal endeavors)
















I am grateful at this time for my belief in God and Eternal Families. To learn more about my beliefs visit The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints Websites Here or Here.  





























7 comments:

  1. Thank you for naming me a Silent Mother. Four losses, and yet a Mother. You have lifted me in your grief. I am so sorry. So sorry.

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  2. What a beautiful gift you have with words. I am sorry for your tragedy, and admire your eternal perspective.

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  3. Oh, Mandi, my dear dear friend. I am so deeply sorry and heartbroken for your loss. Sending all the love my heart can give.

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  4. Mandi.. so sorry for your loss. I can't imagine the pain you had to feel. We are very blessed to know that we will be with those we lose again. xxo

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  5. Mandi I'm so sorry that you have to go through this devastating tragedy and so grateful that you were able to share what you have gone through. It certainly has opened my eyes to be more aware of what others may be going through. What a great way to use your talents. You're amazing!

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