Six Years Is A Long Time by Dani

It has been six years since precious Jasper died.  In this blog, Dani shares with us her memories of what has occurred since Jasper died and her memories of the time surrounding his death.

Photo taken and copyrighted to Dani Hall

Every once in awhile, I remember how long it’s been. Days like today (18th November) – his 6^th birthday, particularly mark the passing of time. Time really passes. It is not something we imagine. But the passing of time is both objective time and subjective time. But there is also personal time, which is measured in your relationship to memory.

When I stop to think about it – really think – so much has happened since his passing. We lost our house, went through fertility clinics to try and discover my infertility problems, we had a rainbow, we raised money for a camera kit for Heartfelt, I’ve lost 3 nephews – one to SIDS and two to prematurity, I’ve been blessed with 4 nieces, helped my mother-in-law find happiness with another partner and watched her get married, gotten a job as a sleep scientist, graduated university with a Bachelor of Justice and currently enrolled to complete a Master of Social Work, volunteered online with SANDS, enrolled my rainbow in prep, took a family road trip, watched Gangad pass, had two sisters get married, my rainbow had surgery and broke his leg, watched many friends get married and have babies and I’ve gotten 3 tattoos. And that’s just what I can think of, off the top of my head.

But then there’s the other side of time. Where it seems like it hasn’t passed at all. Where I think about his birth – rushing for an emergency caesarean and his admittance to the NICU. The strong yearning to see my baby – to hear him cry. The fond memory that we thought he was a girl right up until the moment he was born. The name we had picked out for him – Taryn – until he was born and we had to think of his name on the spot. The sheer relief that flooded through me when he was born, knowing he would be taken care of. The feeling of my heart plummeting when they told me to make the choice to continue care or remove him from life support. The knowledge that I had seen him only a few hours earlier and he was alive – kicking, responding to my touch – and knowing I’d never see that again. And in there hazily, the memory of my dad holding his oldest grandson, saying goodbye, telling him how proud he was of him. Getting wheeled back to my room after kissing him goodbye, knowing I’d never see him again. The sheer pain in my heart – hurting to move – hurting to breathe. The guilt for removing support. Preparing a cremation and funeral. Something no parent should have to do.

The overwhelming support and the text from my dad I will never forget “Dani, you should be very proud for creating a life and trying to give him the best chance possible – not many people can do that”. The foggy memories of loved ones visiting – and trying – really trying to connect but not being able to. The loss of friends.

The memories are right there, as though it all happened yesterday, but it’s been 6 years. 6 years ago we still thought he was a girl. 6 years ago we knew our baby would be born early we just didn't know when. 6 years ago I was still in ignorant bliss that our baby would survive. Little did we know in 24 hours our baby boy (surprise not a girl) would be born at 25+6 weeks and another 10 hours after that we would have to take him off life support and watch him go to heaven in my arms.

Time has taken away a lot of my innocence, given me a lot of grief, taken my son further and further away from me. But it has also given me many happy moments, blessed me with another son, made me who I am today.

“No matter how much time passes, no matter what takes place in the interim, there are some things we can never assign to oblivion, memories we can never rub away.” 

– Hakuri Murakami

Dani

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Sands on 13 000 72637

Danielle Hall

Wife to Corey and Mumma to two boys: Jasper Rhys in heaven and Harrison Phillip Robert in her arms. Jasper passed away after PPROM at 23 weeks and birth at 26 weeks, surviving for 10 hours in the NICU unit. Currently completing a Master of Social Work with the goal to aid in the safety and protection of all children, because all children deserve to feel safe and loved.

In Loving Memory of Jeremy

This was the poem that Alisha wrote for Jeremy's funeral.  On August 31st it will be 3 years since he was stillborn, and though in general it gets easier each day, nothing can take away the raw emotion whenever she thinks of him and what could have been.  He was conceived after 3 years of infertility and finally a successful round of IVF.  

Jeremy, my son,

You were my everything,

The miracle I dreamed of

My future in your being.

I couldn’t wait to meet you,

And see who you took after,

Whose eyes you had, whose height,

Whose personality and laughter.

I was going to guide you,

Teach, and watch you grow.

Play with you, and tickle you,

And teach you how to throw.

You would explore and build forts,

Take after Dad and be good at sports.

You’d be handsome, and oh so smart,

But probably not so good at art.

We’d shoot hoops ‘til dark,

Play catch and picnic in the park.

Feed the ducks, go to the zoo,

Have awesome birthday parties, just for you.

I’d make you the coolest wardrobe,

Bake you cookies and treats,

You’d be best friends with Rodrigo,

And Cleo who we’re yet to meet.

We were going to Disneyland,

We’d laugh while waiting in line.

I was going to share my world with you,

As you’re the gift that completed mine.

We built you a beautiful nursery,

Just perfect for my son,

How was I to know,

Your time would never come.

My dreams have been ripped out of me,

You took them when you left,

I’m sure you left for good reason 

And now you are at rest.

All I have is tiny handprints,

And memories in my mind

Of the dreams I’ll never fulfil,

Since you’ll never truly be mine.

My heart will always bleed

For the son I never knew

My Jeremy, my everything

Taken far too soon.

Alisha

If you require support after reading this blog please contact

Sands on 13 000 72637


Alisha Burns

Alisha is a 35 year old kiwi marketer living in Melbourne and mother of one angel, Jeremy, who was stillborn at 21 weeks in 2012.  Alisha loves exploring the world, impressing people with her ability to walk in 6 inch stilettos, anything Disney, experimenting in the kitchen, pretending she can sing at karaoke. One day she would love a French Bulldog to complete her menagerie if she isn't lucky enough to have children of her own.

HAPPY, HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABY GIRL

Rashida's precious daughter turned two during March.  In this blog she reflects back to the time her daughter was born.

     "On her birthday, I sat on the bed by myself and I took out the special 

keepsake box that we got from the hospital. " 

I’m a busy woman. As a business owner I’m always on the go and I also have an 11 month old baby girl who keeps me going, but on March 19th, the day my angel was born sleeping, I slow everything down a little bit. That day brings about a time of reflection and remembrance for me.  Setting aside that time is important to me because the reality is as time goes by and you begin to heal from the heartbreak of loss, have more children, and juggle everything from chores to your career, the details tend to fade with time; and I don’t ever want to forget. 

This year my baby girl would have been two years old.

On her birthday, I sat on the bed by myself and I took out the special keepsake box that we got from the hospital. The box itself has a special place with her name and details of her birthday including the time she was born, how much she weighed and her length. In the box there is a journal and little momentous like her blanket, baby bracelets, and a picture of just her tiny little toes (because I knew that would be all that I could ever handle and the memory of her beautiful face as I held her is forever etched in my mind), and a postcard of a teardrop on a leaf symbolizing both the intense suffering of loss and hope for the future.  

This time of reflection not only serves as a remembrance of my baby, but is also a reminder of how strong I am and what I have the ability to deal with. At times when life feels overwhelming or I’m afraid, I look at that box; especially on her birthday. I realize that I no longer have anything to fear and there are bigger issues than the little nuances that plague us all day to day. It shows me that because I’ve already been through one of the worst things that can ever happen I will get through whatever I am going through. Her memory reminds me that I am a survivor (of preeclampsia/HELLP Syndrome) and I’m still alive and thriving.  

Her memory also makes me grateful for the child I have now because I know that I would not have my experience now as a mother without the one I experienced with her. I’m so appreciative of my angel for making space for her sister to come into this world.

That is why I celebrate her and commemorate her. Whether that means just spending some quiet time alone in prayer and appreciation, releasing a balloon or lighting a candle I make sure that I take a little bit of time out of my busy schedule.  

We do it for every other holiday. In my house, holidays are a big deal and birthdays are no different. By definition a holiday is simply a day set aside by custom or by law on which normal activities, especially business or work, are suspended or reduced. Generally, holidays are intended to allow individuals to celebrate or commemorate an event or tradition of significance.

Losing my child is one of the most significant events that has occurred in my life to date and for me that means setting aside some special time to remember her and show appreciate for what her short presence in my life has helped me to become.

Happy, Happy Birthday baby girl!

Rashida

If you require support after reading this blog please contact

Sands on 13 000 72637

Rashida McKenzie

Rashida McKenzie is the Founder of High-Risk Helpers, a maternity concierge service for expectant mother's experiencing high-risk pregnancies that result in bed rest. She is also the mother of a baby girl named Maya (who was born after 22 weeks of bed rest) and an angel who inspired her to advocate for pregnancy loss awareness. To learn more about Rashida or High-Risk Helpers, visit http://highriskhelpers.com/