Tag Archives: grief

Sophie the Girl Guide

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A few months ago, I was helping a friend out by doing a little babysitting and ended up staying longer than planned so she could continue to get some studying done. :) Due to a fussy teething baby, I ended up taking their daughter down to  Rainbows. As we walked and skipped down the road singing ‘Yo ho ho and a bottle of rum‘ and ‘What shall we do with a drunken sailor‘ (I should point out that my friend’s daughter was dressed as a pink pirate for the Rainbows Hallowe’en party, hence the choice of songs) we passed parents who nodded and smiled at me as we got nearer the hall.

It occurred to me that they might not realise I was not her mother, and then I realised that I look (and am) old enough to be her Mum.

It was one of those ‘Oh my word, I feel old’ and ‘Beam me up to Neverland, I don’t want to grow up!‘ moments.

Later, I reflected that if things had been different I might have been taking my own daughter to a hallowe’en party at Brownies. I reckon with my background in guiding that Sophie would have be one too! With some more mental arithmetic I realised that I’m old enough to be the mother of some of my Guides as well.

Today my daughter might have been 10 years old, and she would likely have been leaving Brownies to go up to Guides this term. I’m pretty sure with her DNA we would be starting to deal with a lot of hormones kicking in as we entered the ‘pre-teen’ years and I would be talking about puberty, sex and relationships with her. Not to mention bras. And having to buy new clothes to cope with the growth spurts. Slamming doors. Melodrama. Tears.

It’s funny to think that I’d be ahead of all my friends on the parenting front, as this year a lot of my friends have started families or are talking about starting families. And I would have been through it before them. Crazy.

I think this may be the first year on the ‘Birthday anniversary’ that I’m thinking ‘thank God I’m not a parent!‘ as I’d be entering into probably the toughest phase of parenthood – the 10-16 years!

And I expect that tonight there would have a sleepover. Or to give it a more apt name: an ‘awakeover’.

I have no idea if you have awakeovers in heaven, perhaps you don’t even need sleep in heaven, so it’s one giant awakeover? I don’t know, and really I have no need to know (though I am curious).

The one thing I do know is that it’s very strange to think that I might have been watching my kid turn 10 today. 10.

Yes, that’s right. TEN.

Somebody pass the anti-wrinkle cream…

16th January always makes me smile, because I know that Sophie has left a legacy…

16th January 2008 – my first time running a sex education class on dealing with unplanned pregnancy to a group of fifth years (the year I was in when I got pregnant).

16th January 2009 – my first appointment with my post abortion client who I supported through a recovery programme.

16th January 2010 – the first day of my first time running a pregnancy crisis counselling course.

I have no idea what this day will bring, but I do know that this coming weekend we’ll be running the first pregnancy loss support training course in Edinburgh since Sarah & I became managers. Sarah’s head honcho for this course, but I’ll get to do a couple of the training sessions which I’m really looking forward to. The resources available to help people grieve after having a termination have improved so much over the last couple of years, and I’m really excited about that.

Sharing hope & Sophie

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Thank you to those of you who were praying, thinking positive thoughts and have contacted me to ask how the women’s conference went last weekend.

The answer: It went well. Completely beyond many of my expectations.

Phew.

I had to follow Heather, and let me tell you she set the bar high. She shared from her heart about prayer and talking to a God who loves us, cares about us…but also challenged us on the importance of interceding for and forgiving others.

Then it was my turn.

For some weird reason I started by sharing about my name. I really believe names matter. I hadn’t planned to do that, but for whatever bizarre reason it was where I began. I shared about David and his response to losing his son and how it tells of a hope of returning to the ones that died before us and seeing them again. I shared quotes from 2 ladies that have inspired me greatly – Angie Smith & Sarah Williams – their thoughts and struggle with grief after losing their children. And of the hope of the new heaven and earth (at this point I remember getting a little overexcited about what that might be like and how with all the freaky living creatures from Revelation 4 & 5 it was going to be ‘mental’). And I shared about my fears that I couldn’t be a Christian because of having had an abortion, and about how I had named my unborn child Sophie. And how I sometimes wonder if I was wrong about her being a girl and that when I meet her in heaven she might be like ‘Mum? Seriously? SOPHIE?! Why did you call me Sophie?!!‘

Afterwards there was much hugging. I was asked if I would stay to anoint people with oil and pray with them.

I did that for almost 2 hours.

And as I did, some women shared their stories with me. They too had lost children and grandchildren through miscarriage and termination.

The moment that will remain with me was a woman who told me about her own abortion and  whispering to me as I anointed her hands with oil, that after hearing about Sophie, she felt she could now name her own unborn child and do something to remember and honour him/her.

I almost started bawling.

Mostly because I was so thankful that sharing about Sophie had made a difference by giving women permission to grieve.

Thank you to all the ladies at Liberton Northfield Church for making me feel so welcome and giving me the opportunity to speak. :)

Answering a reader’s question

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I got asked a question by a blog reader, and thought it would be better answered in a post. I’m willing to bet that Lesley is not the only person that has read my blog who has wondered this…

“I was wondering if you ever experience hostility or other negativity from people who have had a natural loss of pregnancy ie miscarriage or still-birth if they know that you made the choice to terminate your own pregnancy? How do/would you deal with those kinds of encounters?”

- Lesley

The answer to the first question is a definite No.

I have spoken in the past about how one of my friends thought that I wasn’t affected by my abortion until I started going to church, because the people there had told me what I had chosen was wrong. Actually, I had kept the whole thing a secret from my friends there – I was struggling long before meeting my Jesus following friends, and a fear was that I wouldn’t be accepted by them if they knew. When it came tumbling out, my friend was shocked I thought that and showed me bible verses confirming that my beliefs that you couldn’t be a Christian if you’d had an abortion were a complete load of crap.

I have several friends who have experienced miscarriage. Some of them have experienced multiple miscarriages. They have never once expressed negativity or hostility towards me. I think perhaps because I openly acknowledge that I lost my first child in June 2001, and therefore can empathise with the depth of their grief that others very easily dismiss or diminish.

Several of these friends (and others like me who have medical conditions that are likely to affect their ability to conceive & give birth to a child) have expressed anger and frustration directed in general of women & men who have had terminations – particularly when they hear of people making that choice to end multiple pregnancies. I can totally understand that. How frustrating it must be to see people being blessed in the way you so desire who don’t want it.

How do I deal with those encounters? I listen. I let them express all that anger, upset and frustration because quite frankly I think it’s better out than in, and empathise with it.

A number of friends have talked to me about the work I do, their thoughts about it. Some of the women who work in centres have experienced miscarriage and stillbirth. Because of their experience, they can understand not only the clients who they support through grief after miscarriage, but also the clients struggling after having an abortion.

How would I deal with an encounter if it was aimed at me? Well, I could never say for sure until I’ve been in that circumstance. I always say to the people I’m training in pregnancy crisis counselling: “It’s very easy to say what you think you would do but it can be a whole other story when you’re actually in that situation”. But I think I’d let them have it out. Let them shout and express all they are thinking and feeling. If they got it all out and had calmed down, I hope I’d be able to gently explain why I made the decision I did 10 years ago, how it affected me, and why I understand why they’d be angry at the choice I made and express my sorrow at their loss and the injustice of it all.

I feel at this point I should refer back to the poem I posted earlier this year. Gentleness is key when people are grieving, and when it comes to losing a child – no matter whether they were a 5 week ‘embryo’ or 5 years old – there is a grief that continues as you experience the loss of what they might have been. If you go on living life after loss, you’ll get triggers that cause you pangs of refreshed pain. Seeing the birth date on the calendar, watching kids go off to their first day at school, walking past the hospital where it all happened…be aware of that. Be gentle as those times come.

I hope that answers your question Lesley.

Thank you for having the courage to ask it.

:)

Be gentle with those who are grieving…

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Last year, I began looking further into grief and loss – trying to find anything that may prove to be something that a client can hold onto as they journey through their grief. There can be no time limit on grief. It can come in fits and bursts, all shapes and forms. Somehow, I was led to this poem on an old website created by a family who had lost a child through SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome).

I shared it with one of the miscarriage support trainers, and we’ve discovered it has resonated with clients both within our centre, but also with friends who have lost loved ones in other circumstances that have no connection with our centre.

Please Be Gentle

Please be gentle with me for I am grieving.

The sea I swim in is a lonely one

and the shore seems miles away.

Waves of despair numb my soul

as I struggle through each day.

My heart is heavy with sorrow.

I want to shout and scream

and repeatedly ask ‘Why?’

At times, my grief overwhelms me

and I weep bitterly,

so great is my loss.

Please don’t turn away

or tell me to move on with my life.

I must embrace my pain

before I can begin to heal.

Companion me through the tears

and sit with me in loving silence.

Honor where I am in the journey,

not where you think I should be.

Listen patiently to my story,

I may need to tell it over and over again.

It’s how I begin to grasp the enormity of my loss.

Nurture me through the weeks and months ahead.

Forgive me when I seem distant and inconsolable.

A small flame still burns within my heart,

and shared memories may trigger

both laughter and tears.

I need your support and understanding.

There is no right or wrong way to grieve.

I must find my own path.

Please, will you walk beside me?

-Jill B. Englar

Quite frankly, I don’t think I’ve seen it put better anywhere else. So thank you Ms. Englar for articulating what so many people who have loved and lost are trying to navigate through.

More lessons in leadership

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This leadership thing is tough.

For those of you who hopped over to Shelley’s blog last week to read my guest post (thank you to all of you who left me a comment, I really appreciate every single comment I get on any post I write) you might realise that I have a fair bit of insecurity regarding my current status in this area!

It has not been an easy ride.

I’m battling the whispers and memories of negative words spoken over me. Why is that you always remember the bad stuff? My friend Tam talked about this recently, and I can only echo my agreement with all she said in her post that day. The power of word is huge.

These battle scars are not ones that can be seen. And it is so easy for old wounds to be reopened.

Something that deeply concerns me is the lack of support and the unwillingness of organisations to open their doors to pregnancy crisis support, sex and relationships education and post abortion & miscarriage recovery. People seem to be scared of what I do. It seems to make them uncomfortable.

There is a huge generational gap in our organisation, and as cancer seems to attack (quite literally in some cases) I worry that with death or retirement our work is going to die too. And it is still so needed.

Something I’m trying to encourage the folks in leadership of centres across the country is making sure they have pastoral support, a team of encouragers and prayer warriors and to be training up the next generation.

I’m making that my own goal for this year.

Lead by example.

I want people to learn how to do my job – because if this year has taught me anything, it’s that even though I’m ‘only’ 26, I don’t know how long I have here. I need to be replacable! If I’m Moses, I need a Joshua, and if I’m Paul, I need a Timothy… :)

The one thing I have very little control over is financial support, pastoral support, encouragers and prayer warriors. About 99% of this form of support I receive through cyberspace. Lovely, but not ideal. I’m so thankful it has been there though. I don’t think I’d have got this far otherwise.

The nervousness of ‘shocking’ people. As I spoke to the group in front of me in the Highlands on Monday night, a few eyebrows were raised, some expressions stony…but eventually there were smiles (phew!). But the stigma and fear of being part of this kind of ministry seems to remain.

In the meantime, we end up having to turn away people needing our help because of the lack of resources.

I’m not sure if that makes me sad, angry or just decreases my faith….or maybe a combo of all of the above!

Grief & Loss

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Over the last wee while I’ve been looking into resources to compliment the existing training and reading materials we have to help prepare ourselves to support people coming into our centre dealing with pregnancy crisis and pregnancy loss.

Unfortunately for my bank account, and fortunately for Rob Bell and others the stall I was working on at the Momentum Conference was directly opposite the ‘bookshop’.

More precisely a stand full of NOOMA DVDs that were £1 off…I decided I would get one that folks in our smallgroup didn’t already have, but also wanted to see if I could get one that might be helpful in the work I do too.

And I spotted ‘Matthew‘…which I glazed over at first because I thought it would be something to do with something else. It turned out it was about dealing with grief and loss.

I bought it hopeful, and wasn’t disappointed. In 10 minutes Rob mentions several topics that are touched on in our pregnancy loss support programmes – grief, loss, pain, anger, bitterness, blaming yourself…

A few of us in the centre have watched now, and think it’s good – though we decided on Friday that we prefer the booklet to the actual video bit.

During our training we have to challenge our thinking and bring out experiences we’ve had to help us empathise and better understand the emotions our clients may be going through.

So thank you Nooma.

Matthew has been added to our shelf of resources.