It's Ramadan (Loss mentioned)

I really love this time of year. Ramadan is the holy month of fasting for Muslims. It is the month in which the gates of hell are closed and the gates of heaven are open, the month of standing in prayer, the month of purification. Abdul Qadir was born/died during the month of Ramadan in the Gregorian year 2005. I want to explain that because the Islamic calender follows the lunar cycle Ramadan begins roughly 10 days earlier every year. Just wanted to put that out there since it is July and Ramadan but it was October and Ramadan when he died. And I can't begin to say how special it is to have my son born and die during the blessed month of Ramadan 8 years ago.

As I sit here reflecting and reading the Qur'an I came across some verses that I felt the need to share. You see I have always, for as long as my baby has been gone, been the target of cruel comments and hatred over the fact that I lost my baby but blamed no one and had no regrets about his birth. I have seen other loss mothers be ripped to shreds within hours or weeks of losing their precious babies because of the method of birth they chose.

Anyway I ran across this and it brought a lot more peace about the way I feel:

"...Say: 'Even if you had remained in your homes, those for whom death was decreed would certainly have gone forth to the place of their death,' but that Allah might test what is in your breasts; and to purify that which is in your hearts, and Allah is All-Knower of what is in your breasts." - Surah Al-Imran 154

And also this:

"O you who believe! Be not like those who disbelieve (hypocrites) and who say to their brethren when they travel through the Earth or go out to fight: 'If they had stayed with us, they would not have died or been killed,' so that Allah may make it a cause of regret in their hearts. It is Allah that gives life and causes death. And Allah is All-Seer of what you do." - Surah Al-Imran 156

Now I want to mention here that the verses were referring to some of the battles that were fought during the time of the Prophet Muhammad. (peace be upon him) However, the principle here is the same. It reminds me so much of all the people who question my decisions and try to assume that things would have been different if I had done things another way, etc. The principle is the same in that people attempt to make "if" statements with the intention of inciting regret. But Allah is the one who gives life and causes death. No one and nothing else.

One of the pillars of faith in Islam is belief in the divine pre-ordainment, which is mentioned in the first verse I quoted where it states if death is decreed for someone it does not matter where they are, death will reach them. So stop questioning me when I say I know that he would not have lived regardless of how I birthed him. Death was decreed for him while he was in my womb long before labor began. Stop acting like I caused his death because the only One who caused his death was Allah.

I continue to heal and grow. This grief process is not one that ever ends. It is lifelong, but today I feel strong.

7 years of this neverending journey in grief

It's been seven years. It feels like it was just yesterday and an eternity all at the same time. I still remember seeing him for the first time. His lifeless body dripping with amniotic fluid and a beautiful blue umbilical cord ; the only thing left connecting us as one physically. That brief moment of euphoria that I had looking up to see that he was a boy. It had not completely hit me in that moment that my baby was gone. I knew something was wrong, of course, but there is *always* that hope that a miracle will occur and your story will be the one where the baby comes back to life from your touch or your voice. That wasn't my story. There was no miraculous recovery. My baby, who had only just got here, was gone.

I don't blog much about the pain. Largely because I don't enjoy reliving it. I would rather focus on the positives that he brought into my life. I think this has made people think that I am "over it" or that everything is okay now. I am at that point where I feel like no one even remembers him. No one cares that I still ache to just smell his perfectly curly hair one more time. Or kiss those wonderfully chubby cheeks. I can't talk about him without feeling like people are tired of hearing about it. I mean there is no change, no birthdays, no milestones met, no kindergarten or 1st grade. It's the same story of death every time.

This year there have been a lot of triggers of my pain. Several people have had losses that were almost identical to mine. It reminded me of things that I do not like to relive over and over. I don't like that feeling of darkness that I felt when I walked into the house where my baby was born , while having to acknowledge that he died there too. I remember the first few weeks I would lay in bed hearing the sounds of a baby crying and then crying myself to sleep. The trigger that the sound of an ambulance had in the middle of the night. The tears, the physical aching in my soul. That feeling when you are in a room full of people and feel completely and totally alone because no one else on earth could possible understand your pain.  It took me back to that place of emptiness. My heart has an empty space filled with sorrow for my little boy that is missing. My life will never be the same without him. There is no way to go back to the life that was before this happened to me. There is no getting over it. There is no end to this road. There is no end to the sadness and pain. There are no words to describe the depth of pain this kind of loss brings. I miss him. I am *missing* him. One of my close friends was pregnant the same year. Her daughter is a few months younger than he would be and she is also my oldest daughters' best friend. I love her, but sometimes it is a painful reminder of what I don't have. My house is full of children; 3 boys and 2 girls. But he is always missing. I am always wondering what he would have been like. Would he be calm and gentle like his older brother? Or a typical rough boy like is younger brother? Would he be athletic or more into books? Would he be funny or serious? So many things I think about daily. There is and will always be a part of me missing. And nothing will ever fill that void. 7 years. He would be in first grade. I hope that I stay on the straight path and that I will be able to meet him at the gates of Paradise and that this time on Earth without will be more than made up for in the eternal gardens of paradise. I love him. I miss him. But to Allah we belong and to Allah we all return.

***If you have not read his birth story you can read it here. Abdul-Qadir 10/22/2005****

Addressing the Issue of Blame and Guilt

Blame and Guilt:

Since my second c-section I have always been a huge advocate for self-empowerment, seeking the truth yourself and not relying on others to give it to you, and advocating for ways to avoid the first c-section. So in a lot of ways when the news spread that my baby died during my homebirth many people (even family members) had this attitude of "see I told you". It was almost as if some of them took a little bit of pleasure in seeing the woman who says "birth is as safe as life gets" on her knees in grief. ** I want to give a shout out here to some of the best women I have ever known in my life who without knowing me for very long were the only people who took time to send me flowers and gifts to let me know they cared. I love all of you at Earthy Mommies.**

Throughout the last 6 years I have been pretty vague about my homebirth loss due to that negativity that I experienced right after.  I cannot tell you how many people didn't hesitate to blame my baby's death on the fact that I had a homebirth and were quite mean about it too. I was still very fresh in my grief and one stage of grief is guilt. This is for every single person that has ever lost a loved one. There is always a moment of "What if I ____?" or " I wish I could have...." This happens regardless of whether you had any direct involvement in that loved ones death..For me it was too much to bear at the time and up until now I have been very quiet about my birth as a means to protect myself .

So for a long time I was afraid to talk about how I felt with most people. It seemed that no one in my real life really wanted to even acknowledge that he existed. I know that no one knew him when he was alive but he lived in me for 10 months. I felt him move. We grew as one together. I had a type of connection with him that no one else could understand, it was like a secret.

Forgiving Yourself:

One of the things I always see people say during homebirth debates on message boards, blogs, and facebook groups, is " I would never be able to forgive myself if something happened."  It infers that if you do forgive yourself then you are the bad guy. You are the mother that chose an experience over the baby. You are the mother who didn't care about her baby. You are the one worthy of bashing. In reality this could not be farther from the truth.

I have always looked at my homebirth loss with positivity. I am saddened that he died. I wish he was here but nothing that I do will bring him back. I chose to forgive myself and embrace his life and death for the beauty that it was. I have often been persecuted for being proud that I gave birth to him, proud that it was a natural childbirth, triumphant that what I had been told about my body was a lie (like I knew it was). I am not sure why people don't understand that you can have more than one emotion about one event. I could chose to dwell on the negative but I felt much more productive and driven to look at the positive. This doesn't mean I love him any less, or that the pain of not having him here is any less significant now than it was then. I loved him. I was heartbroken. But being heartbroken doesn't mean I have to be broken.

Which leads me to this. It is ok to forgive yourself.  It doesn't make you less of a mother. It doesn't mean you loved your baby less than that next woman. It means you loved yourself enough to forgive yourself and not let guilt and blame consume you. And in order for us to properly love our other children we have to first love ourselves.


**Oh and for the record my homebirth loss did not change a single thing about the way I look at birth. I still believe that birth is as safe as life gets.**