I Remember

I didn't realize it has already been a week since my last post. I have been busy lately, but I'll talk more about that at a later date. Instead, I want to talk about what today is- October 15th.

Today is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day. In fact the entire month of October is supposed to be dedicated to this, but it is over-shadowed by Breast Cancer Awareness. Breast Cancer Awareness is extremely important and more women should know how to do self-breast exams, get mammograms, and educate others. But they should also know that babies all over the world die everyday just like our grandmothers, mothers, sisters, aunts, daughters and friends.

Everywhere you go, you see pink. Pink foods, pink packaging, pink ribbons, pink clothing, pink appliances... But you never hear or read about anything relating to pregnancy and infant loss. Why? Why is it so taboo to talk about?

Before the boys died, I never read anything about babies dying. My older sister was stillborn, but I thought it was just because she was premature. I never bothered to learn more about it. I didn't think it could happen to me. It did. And I still don't know much about my sister because even my mother doesn't talk about it. I thought prematurity was just about being born early, but why does this happen and how can we prevent that? If I didn't ask, I wouldn't know anything. That's really unfortunate.

Back in April, when I went to be with my grandmother for her second surgery, I also went to see my paternal grandmother. I haven't spoken to my Dad in over two years, and I miss him and the idea of having a father, but I'm not ready to make amends. But I did want to see his mother, my other grandmother, my Abuelita. I missed her. My grandmother went with me to help me translate because she mainly speaks Spanish and mine is rusty at best. Once I saw her, all I did was cry. The only thing I said to her, was "I love you". I just sat there and looked at her and cried. I cried because I missed our relationship that we had when I was a child, when I was normal, when my Dad still loved and cared for me. My grandmother spoke to her and told her about the boys when she asked if we had any children. All she kept saying, over and over, was "Que Triste...Que Triste." "How Sad...How Sad." Of course I cried even more because I knew what she was saying. I understood every word she said when she told my grandmother that she also had two losses of her own when she first got married, before her other 6 children came along. And she never told anyone. She said she still missed them.

So why do we expect others (strangers, other pregnant women, our families and friends) to talk about it, when our own families don't talk about it and treat is like a secret? Why do we expect magazines to educate expectant mothers on miscarriages and stillbirths when our own OB's don't even do so? We've had to learn because we are unfortunately a part of this club that we never wanted to belong to. We have to learn because it's our job to educate the world about it. No one else is going to do it.

We can sit around and complain (or blog) about why there isn't more awareness on this subject, but we have to spread the word. Some people may not want to hear it. In fact a lot of people do not want to hear about it. Some people may not want to believe that it happens, but it does. How many hundreds and thousands of us are there hiding and afraid to speak?

I refuse to not talk about my sons. Their lives mattered! They may not have taken their own breaths and some may even argue that they were even "real" babies, but they were. They are. They had heartbeats. They moved. They grew. They had 10 fingers and 10 toes. They had hearts and brains. They had their own personalities. They were perfectly formed, just too little to survive on their own. They were babies and they died. If you can inform at least one person and change the way they view this topic, then together we can make a difference. Educate the public and make our babies lives matter.

Maybe one day we'll all have walks for Pregnancy & Infant Loss. Maybe one day we'll all wear a ribbon or white crew socks with a pink and blue ribbon. Maybe one day, parenting magazines and doctors offices won't be afraid to inform expectant mothers that their babies lives are not guaranteed. Maybe one day we'll walk into the grocery store and buy packaged foods that benefit loss awareness. Maybe one day you'll meet a neighbor or a friend of a friend who had a loss and you can share stories of survival without being ashamed of your status and how others will view you. Maybe one day others won't treat us like lepers.

Maybe one day all our babies will be remembered and acknowledged.

I made a remembrance list last year for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness. Please add your baby/ies to the list. I will always remember them. Always.