October 15th

October 15th was a day that I had been dreading. Not only was it Pregnancy & Infant Loss Rememberance Day, but it also marked the six-month anniversary of Freja's burial.

It seems almost too ironic that almost all of her "anniversary" days seem to fall just at the times they do: She died two days before my birthday which also happened to be Good Friday, Easter Sunday we went to pick the spot she'd be buried, we met with the funeral director on her due date, the one month anniversary of her burial happened to fall on (of all days,) Mother's Day..... It just never ends. When I learned of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day and realized that it would coincide with another one of Freja's Days, I wasn't surprised. I almost come to expect these coincidences.

However, once it occured to me that the 15th also happened to be the day that we had tickets to go see a Wiggles concert, my heart sank. We bought these tickets back in August, and were so excited to take our two-year-old who is Wiggles obsessed to see them. But how on earth was I supposed to go enjoy this loud, peppy, energetic show and sit there surrounded by babies and children and happy families who have never been broken like we have? And on, of all times, Infant Rememberance Day and a rather significant day in the history of Freja.

But, I couldn't let the kids down. They have suffered enough in the past months because of my shortcomings. So, with Freja in my heart where she always is, we packed up and set out for the Wiggles with what felt like alot of uncertainty on my behalf.

At first, I felt really guilty and aweful that I wouldn't be able to light a candle at 7 PM, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that it was really no different than any other day. Every day, I think of Freja a million times. Every day I miss her with all my heart. Every day, I make sure to bring her up in conversation, especially with the kids. Every day, I think of ways to honor her and keep her memory alive in some new way. Every day, even if it isn't obvious to everyone else, my world revolves around that little girl who forever changed my life.

While we were sitting there and the kids were caught up in the show with awe, I looked around and wondered if anybody else there was facing this day with similar feelings. Was there another mother there who was trying to put on a happy face for her other children's benefit? Surely in a crowd of families that large, there must've been another who had lost a baby. I had a fleeting thought of jumping up on the stage and begging somebody.... anybody.... who might've been there themselves to come out of the darkness and help me not feel so alone.

So, instead of a candle, I am going to share some pictures I took at the concert, shortly after 7 PM when the Wiggles sang their rendition of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. I was in shock at how appropriate this song was, considering what day it was. It took everything in me to keep myself together. I pictured myself being dragged out of there by security guards while I sobbed hysterically.

Not a candle, but to me it held the same meaning:






During 'Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star,' everybody in the arena was encouraged to hold up their cell phones and the lit-up screens looked like stars.



Twinkle, twinkle, little star,
How I wonder what you are!
Up above the world so high,
Like a diamond in the sky!

When the blazing sun is gone,
When he nothing shines upon,
Then you show your little light,
Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.

Then the traveller in the dark,
Thanks you for your tiny spark,
He could not see which way to go,
If you did not twinkle so.

In the dark blue sky you keep,
And often through my curtains peep,
For you never shut your eye,
Till the sun is in the sky.

As your bright and tiny spark,
Lights the traveller in the dark,—
Though I know not what you are,
Twinkle, twinkle, little star.