When It Hurts So Bad

I remember my first raw year after James Collins, Jr.'s stillbirth. The pain of just hurting all of the time with no relief was unbearable!  The hurt was like no other.

One particular night when once again sleep was evading me due to the pain of loss, I grabbed my Bible and clutched it to my heart.  I fell asleep with it still clutched tight just as a child would its teddy bear or blankie.  My Bible became my "blankie."  I clung to it day and night.  Although most of the time I wasn't reading it, I drew strength from what I knew was in it.  Psalms and verses I had read in previous times would come to my mind and I would cling to them.  I knew Jesus loved me.  I knew He was carrying me since I had no strength to carry myself.  I knew that through Christ my son was safe in heaven even though I was here on earth hurting with pain beyond belief.  I also knew that God did not cause my son to die.  He was my son's refuge in death and my refuge in grief.  I also knew that as bad as I wanted my baby with me right then it wasn't going to happen, but I could live for the day when God would come get me and reunite me with my son.  Seven years later, I would learn to cling and hope for the same when I held my stillborn daughter, Reita Gale in my arms.

I was 24 years old when my firstborn son died and 32 when my daughter died.  I will be 64 years old come this July 9th.  I have missed my babies for a long long time.  The grief still drifts in and out, just like the tide.  I can tell you one thing for sure.  Only my faith has gotten me through these years.  It has given me hope and the knowledge that I will see and know my children again one day.  I thank God for that.  I thank Jesus Christ for dying on the cross for not only me and my children, but for all who believe in Him so that we can have victory over death. 

I have had two other Bibles since the one I clung to many years ago.  I still have that now yellowed  and tattered paged one as a reminder of when my grief was so fresh.  That Bible, God's Holy Word, saved my life at a time when nothing else could.

Fittsie's Angels: What Is It?

Fittsie's Angels: What Is It?: What is it about babyloss that whams you so hard it still has one down on the floor ( at least for me) 39 years later???  From what I hear I...

What Is It?

What is it about babyloss that whams you so hard it still has one down on the floor ( at least for me) 39 years later???  From what I hear I am not the only one it affects like this.  Then again, I know some BLMS that keep it inside.  I can't.

I am just coming out of my "loss season."  James, Jr. was born still May 2, 1975 and buried May 3.
Then Reita Gale was born still May 31, 1982 and buried June 3.  You know how the weeks are leading up and then the weeks aftermath.  I'm in the aftermath of this 39th season and it just as well be the first season.  I'm so down and no energy.  I still need to be "looked after" this far out.  I don't understand it.  Of course I don't want to forget my babies!  But I don't want to feel so bad either.  Is this time of year "doomed" for me forever?  My answer so far is I imagine so.  I mean, look at me!  I'm going to be 64 years old in July!!!!  I have a fantastic family to enjoy and I do enjoy them.  It is just three are missing.  ( I lost Abbie in January 1982 to miscarriage)

Sometimes I still wonder the , "why me?"  Why didn't this happen to one of my 4 sisters?  Why was I the only one out of the 5 of us girls?  I don't even have a friend that this happened to!  If it had to be the 1 in 4 this happens to, where are the other 3?  Could I have known just one of them to have a companion around me who understands? 

I am in a place now where I don't want to talk about it ever again to anyone who isn't a BLM.  I got off my BLM FB page to get away from it beside the fact that my computer got hacked.  Seemed like a sign to get away from it for awhile.  I still think of each of you.  You can find me on Twitter @Fittsie!  I do see some of you there.  I still need some part of the BLM world security blanket. 

Well, guess if you didn't realize it after reading this, you were just part of my pity party!  Thanks for letting me sound off.

I will leave with an up-dated photo taken a month ago.  Yes, I do have a lot to be thankful for.

 

My Family

 

 

My hubby and rainbows!

 

                                                            With my oldest granddaughter
                                                         
                                                                            

 

With my youngest granddaughter

 

 

With my middle grandchild & my only grandson

 

 

This picture melts my heart!

 

Yes, look at these pictures!  I am loved!  I am blessed!  I am Minus 3

I'll Walk With You

I have never forgotten where I came from.  It never leaves you.  At least that has been the case for me.  Once you have put on those heavy shoes to walk with the death of a child, you never forget that weight of loss.

I know the depths of deep grief and hopelessness.  I've cried so hard and long until there seemed to be no more tears left, but more came.  I've been jealous of those who had babies so effortless while I was treated for infertility. I've played the wait game.  I've played the disappointment game. Then I became one of the lucky ones who had a healthy normal baby.  It was worth every trial I had to go through to get him.  I can say without a doubt it was the happiest day of my life.  I want that for you.  I want you to feel the ultimate joy of holding your living baby all pink and wailing away.  It burdens me that you don't have that yet.  It burdens me that some of you might not get it.

I endured two more losses after my first stillbirth.  I can honestly say that my next losses didn't drag me down to the bottom as the first did.  I know that may offend some of you, but I have to be honest here.  When I miscarried it hurt, so don't get me wrong.  However, I had two sons running around the house to divert me.  I wasn't so alone as I was when my first son was stillborn.  When my daughter was stillborn, it was bad.  After three sons, I gave birth to a daughter!  But the twist in her cord took her from me.  I didn't have another daughter running around the house, so this one took me back to the depths of grief much more.  However, I did have my two joyful sons to divert me once more.  I had live children to hold on to.  There is a difference to leave the hospital with empty arms when children are waiting for you at home.

I am not saying that the children I loss after I had my two rainbows were loved and wanted any less than the loss of my firstborn son.  I mourn them and miss them just as much as I do their brother.  It was just easier on me to come home to a house with my sons running to greet me.  Can you understand?  Did I feel guilty that I didn't fall to the emptiness of despair as I did the first time?  Yes I did!  I didn't understand it at first.  I thought something was wrong with me.  By the third time, was I getting use to loss?  No!  Maybe I just expected it in the back of my mind.  I just know that I wasn't as blindsided as I was the first time.  My first day home without James Collins, Jr, I climbed into his empty crib when I was finally alone and no one was watching.  I turned on the mobile and held on to a teddy bear and sobbed as I pretended the bear was my baby.  Crazy?  Not to me!  My first night home without Reita, I had to wait until everyone else in the house had gone to bed before I went downstairs and closed myself off in the dining room to be alone.  I crawled under the dining room table with my pillow to muffle my cries.  I had to get it together by morning so not to scare my small sons waiting for me to fix them their breakfast.  Life for me had to go on much quicker this time.  I couldn't take my time in grieving when ever I felt it sweep over me.  What I did have was the hugs and kisses of my sons to get me through it.  Those of you with out your Rainbow don't get those hugs and my heart breaks for you. 

Your heartbreak of not having your Rainbow baby is personal to me.  I've been with you over a year now.  I've watched you suffer.  I see you as you still suffer as some of you have lost your Rainbow or haven't achieved pregnancy.  I will continue to walk with you.  I will wait with you.  One day I will rejoice with you. 

Flavors of Grief

I have been watching "The Young & Restless" TV soap opera this week. Billy and Chloe's very young daughter, Delia was hit by a car and died. Watching Billy and Chloe deal with their grief in the first 12 hours after their daughter's death has brought back so many raw memories to me. These actors really have done an outstanding job of capturing those first hours of shock, disbelief, and wanting to scream and never stop screaming. They are angry. So angry. Thoughts of "what could I have done differently" to prevent this are going on and on through their heads. Grief is cruel and it is forever. Grief has many flavors. The fresh raw flavor of those days and weeks right after the loss. Your body feels like it weighs tons because each movement you make takes so much energy and you have none left in you because grief took it. Crying leaves you exhausted. Loss leaves you exhausted. I have been exhausted this past week. Remembering the details of losses exhausted me. My, "This couldn't happen to me!" thoughts have been exhausting. But it did happen to me. It seems like I have been dealing with grief in one flavor or another for just forever. I went out on the beach the only sunny day we had this week. I rode across the high rise bridge over the sound with the full view of the never-ending ocean facing me. The salty winds were warm and felt good to my face. Part of me thought back to the days of taking this exact ride but as a teenager with the car full of girlfriends and the music over the radio was loud and fun. Grief was the last thing on our minds! Two of us have since heard those words you never want to hear. Little did we know then what life had on the horizon for us. The ocean is like grief. It is massive and so full, especially at high tide. High tide takes over the beach, leaving less room for sand castles. Low tide is more friendly to me. The beach has plenty of room to run and twirl around and play in the sand, building those sand castles that the high tide will wash away. Ebb tide is my favorite. There is a calm then. Everything stays the same for just a short while. There are no highs or lows. Middle ground of peace as I see it. The sun rising over the ocean is so beautiful as are the sunsets. The beauty just fills me with awe. I love the sunrise the most. It brings on a new day of hope, a brightness in your day. This brightness is a flavor of grief you experience after much time has passed. I used to listen to the song (still do) "Don't Let The Sun Catch You Crying" by Jerry & the Pacemakers when I was a teenager in the 1960's. It was part of the "British Invasion" of the '60's. It has some truth for me. Crying is not a bad thing. We need to do our crying to cleanse ourselves. Later on, you will be able to hear the birds singing and get joy from their songs. Just never get too comfortable with your new found calm. There are always storms on the horizons with grief. Some quickly ride over and you get back to your sun and calm. Others just hang around and pound you with its lightening, thunder and downpours of rain. Grief did that to me this week. However, I'm going to pick myself up as I usually do and just keep going. I will continue to ride the waves.

Tasting Heaven

Pure bliss and peace are what I experienced yesterday at sunrise while on the beach at Ocracoke Island.   I was the only person on this wide beach full of white sand and ocean waves washing up!  I could look as far my eyes could see to experience a oneness with nature, God's beauty.  Ocracoke is just about as far as one can go on the Outer Banks of NC, getting there by a 3 hour ferry ride from where I live.  I was overwhelmed with it all, but drank in the two hours I was alone there. 

It was still dark as I rode down the sandy beach road.  Once I arrived, I turned the headlights off the Jeep.  Daybreak was knocking on the horizon.  I took off my flip flops and let my feet sink in the cool morning sand.  I got my camera out of its bag and started shooting.  I felt the spirits of  my angels with me.  I started writing their names in the sand.  I drew hearts.  I started thinking of my children gone too soon as not only individuals, but as my "Fittsie's Angels."  I wrote Fittsie's Angels in the sand.  It felt good because it covered all three of my angels, James Collins, Jr., Abba Gale and Reita Gale.  Not many know about Abba Gale, Reita Gale's twin that I miscarried.  I felt such a release as I wrote her name finally giving her spirit the recognition deserved.  If you haven't read, Heaven Is For Real, then you are missing out!  It is a short read, but will change you.

Way too soon, I realized that I was getting tired!  I found a new respect for those who write our angels names in the sand.  My back started letting me know it was time to go.  Sadly, I left the beach.
I have the memories of yesterday morning to carry with me forever.  I'm peaceful.  Isn't it ironic how I left the motel and drove in the darkness toward the beach.  A few minutes after arriving, daybreak broke out complete peace for me.  God works in His own way and perfect timing!

I am Gale Fitts or Fittsie.  These are pictures of my morning with my angels, my Fittsie's Angels!

                                                                            

                                                                      Arrival           

                                                                           

 

                                                 
            

                                                                  Stunning!

                                                               My Angels!

                                     May you all feel the peace I felt yesterday morning <3

 

 

 

Divorce

To say that I was blindsided by James Collins, Jr.'s stillbirth at full term is an understatement.  At 24 years of age, I understood none of this except that my guts were ripped out and I could no longer function period.  This was in 1975.  Stillbirth was not talked about.  It was an ugly word.  I felt like I had a Scarlet S on me.  All I ever heard was, don't do this or you shouldn't do that.  I never heard the words, "do remember your baby."  The quietness of not hearing his name or the mention of the horrific birth I had gone through was just erased as a teacher erases the chalkboard at the end of each day.  I was unglued in the most horrible way and found comfort from nowhere on earth.  God was always there for me to cry on His shoulder....my saving grace.

Then I heard a word that just wasn't in my vocabulary.....divorce.  Why was it being said to me that statistics say MOST parents of children who die divorce?  Why were those words being spoken and not words of encouragement?  It would make me so mad when I heard about those stats!  In 1975, there were not many divorces like there are today.  Couples just worked out their problems.  My husband and I were on different pages when it came to grieving.  Why?  Well, because we weren't suppose to be grieving!!!!  After all, we never "knew" our baby.  Our minds should be on having a "replacement baby."  He was scared to bring his grief up to me and grieved up in the top of the storage room at work, where no one could heard his sobs.  I grieved openly and loudly!!!  He was told that if I couldn't hurry up and get over this, I would go mad and never be "normal" again!  So he encouraged me, as hard as it was for him, to move on.  That mad me very angry.  Why didn't anyone understand me?  Neither one of us had been through grief before.  We didn't know how to handle it and it was a big mess.  One thing was for sure though.  Divorce never entered our minds because of our love for each other.  We struggled on.  Once I  was told 6 months into my grief, that because I wasn't returning to "normal" that I should set my husband free.  Divorce him so he could find a normal woman who could give him a live baby.  I can't begin to tell you how I felt.  Not only did I have to deal with my loss of my firstborn, grieving in a situation where grief wasn't allowed, and now this....give my husband his freedom!  He was outraged when I told him what was said to me.  Poor guy, look at what HE was going through!  What an extra burden to put on a young couple!  Honestly, I know the only reason we survived was our deep love.  Bless him because of my being denied the full grieving process, I had many set backs in grief that he had to endure.  Finally, in the 1990's I sought out grief counseling.  It helped some.  The REAL help came from finding the Baby Loss Community last October 2012.  You kind grieving parents took me into your fold.  You allowed me to grieve openly and in turn helped my husband and myself grieve properly for our losses.  We have spent the last year grieving together and shouting out our children's names!  This burden of grief , held inside for so long, exploding into tears unexpectedly at times throughout the past 38 years, has turned into a healthy grief that we can handle together.  Thank you for your support<3