“Dear Felix,” I start my journal entries now, channeling my son through his two sweet syllables. I feed and water our relationship with words, not wanting to miss what blooms in darkness. I beckon him close, close, closer still.
Read MoreAs a teenager, I hated algebra.
I could never wrap my head around the equations,
And the worst part was when I had to
Solve for x.
Little missives from beyond time and space
Afloat on currents of molecules, suspended in the gaseous elements…?
Too fanciful, I think, too cute. Too good to be true.
I find myself listening for them, though, despite my better judgment,
On the off chance, that maybe, just maybe, there’s something there.
Each day since Olivia died, I’ve considered what it means to be a parent to a child no one else can see. Even I can only see her in my mind, but she’s there, the primary variable in our family calculus. No matter how many more children I have, the number people see – the number I see – will be n-1. Always missing one.
Read MoreBereaved parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion, and the other side of getting through this mess called grief.
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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
: for one and all
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: not ttc | infertility after loss
: parenting after loss
: on the bookshelf
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: how to help a friend through babyloss
: how to plan a baby's funeral
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