Me.

Dear Readers,

I am currently participating in a 4-week online photography class, called 'Illuminate,' put on by the wonderful Beryl of Be Young Photography. It's a class specifically designed for babyloss moms, and so far I'm totally loving it. Beryl is going to be doing another Illuminate class in August, and I definitely recommend signing up if you're looking for a unique way to both process your grief and develop a new skill/passion. Anyway, I thought I would share my first assignment for the class (a self-portrait) here, so here ya go! -Kristin

Dear Stevie,

I’ve written countless letters to you over the last year and a half. Letters filled with nervousness, excitement, and unbelievable joy during the six months we had together. Letters filled with questions, anger, and incredible sadness during the weeks right after you died. And, during the last few months, letters containing a mix of pretty much every other emotion you can think of–happiness, sorrow, yearning, shame, silliness, weakness, thankfulness, jealousy, confusion, renewed strength, and even a little bit of hope thrown in the mix.

When I think of where and who I am today, I realize I can’t boil it down to one word. Or even close. These days, my state of being changes so often, sometimes I go to bed feeling like I’ve got a serious case of whiplash. In one 24-hour period, I can experience such a wide range of emotions–sometimes even at the same time. I can be totally happy, in a great mood, then I see a little girl with curly hair and big blue eyes and my heart stops. I’m sad. Then I get a funny text from a friend or one of my dogs does something silly, and I’m laughing. Then someone at work asks me when we’re going to ‘start having kids,’ and I’m super uncomfortable, that sinking feeling in my chest. One day I feel like going out all night and having fun. The next, I just want to lay in bed and watch crap on Netflix all afternoon. You just never know.

I guess I’m learning to live with the unpredictableness (is that even a word?) of my new life. The craziness that comes with losing a child. I’m learning that it’s okay to enjoy the happy feelings, and ride out the crappy ones. To not try and force myself into feeling a certain way, but to really, truly ‘live’ in each moment, each emotion, as it comes. To just be.

So this is me. Happy, sad, goofy, sexy, bored, crazy, pissed off, just alright. Me.

Stevie’s Mama.

I love you, sweet girl. Forever and always.

Xoxo,

Mom

Please?

Dear Readers,
The nonprofit organization I started, Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope, is in the running for a $25,000 grant from the Pepsi Refresh Project! I can't even explain how awesome it would be to get this funding--we'd really be able to take the work we're doing to provide connection and support to babyloss parents to the next level. Plus, winning a national grant like this would open up a ton of opportunities to spread awareness and get our message out to a huge audience.

Anyway, to get this grant, we have to get enough votes from the community during the month of July to put us in the top 15 in our tier. Right now, we're hovering right around #32. Can you help?

The first time you vote, you have to set up an account, which takes about a minute, but after that, it seriously takes less than 30 seconds to go on and vote everyday. Obviously, this is incredibly near and dear to my heart, and I would SO appreciate it if you would vote in honor of Stevie!

Here's how:

1) Follow this link: http://pep.si/kzOEpR

2) Click the button that says ‘vote for this idea’

3) You’ll be prompted to either login or sign up for a new voting account (this just takes a few minutes and a valid email address, or you can even login using your facebook account!)

4) VOTE!

5) Repeat once a day, every day!

6) You can also ‘power vote’ for us if you have a ‘power voting code,’ found on specially marked Pepsi products.

If you vote, please comment here and let me know! You can also email info@facesofloss.com with 'I voted' in the subject line to be entered into weekly drawings for Faces merch :)

Thanks again, as always, for all your support!

Love,

Kristin

Let it be

Dear Stevie,
When I was in Puerto Rico with the girls a few weeks ago, I got a new tattoo. I feel kind of like a big hypocrite now, after all the whining I've done in my last couple posts, but here's what I got done:

I've mentioned before that 'Let it Be' by the Beatles is my favorite song. I loved it long before you came along; since I was a little girl actually. When Dad and I put together our 'Stevie's Mix' playlist, the one I'd play for you every day while you were in my belly, this is one of the few song choices we both agreed just had to be included.

Since you died, the song has taken on so much more meaning for me. In the days and weeks following your death, I literally had it on repeat. For this overly-rational, needs-to-know-why, believes-she-can-fix everything-kind-of-girl, 'let it be' was (and is) such an important message to hear. Let it be. Basic, but so powerful. Simple, but so hard to do.

Now today, over a year later, these three little words continue to speak to me. When I'm feeling anxious about the future...let it be. When I drive myself crazy thinking about all that could have been...let it be. When I'm feeling especially happy...let it be. When I'm feeling especially sad...let it be.

And then there's my favorite part in the song, which goes :

"And when the night is cloudy, 

There is still a light that shines on me

Shine on until tomorrow, let it be."

Thank you, Carly!

As bad as it seems, as hard as it gets, we can't forget about that sliver of light, of hope, that always remains. 

Love you, baby.

Xoxo,
Mom

Testing, testing, anybody out there?

Dear Stevie,
Today was just a bad week. On Monday, I had to call in "sad" to work for the first time since last summer. I'm just getting really sick of having to do this whole "trying to enjoy my life as it is now" charade, when this isn't the life I want. It's really hard work, and I'm exhausted.

I'm also feeling really alone these days. I miss my friends. I miss my family. I even miss having a group to really connect with online. When I was pregnant with you, I had my August 2010 Babycenter moms. Then when you died I had my spring/summer 2010 babyloss moms. Now, I feel like I'm just sort of here. Everyone's moved on and I just feel lame. Super lame. Is anyone even reading this anymore? Is there anybody out there?

Sorry for the depressing letter, Stevie. I'm hoping this week is just one of the lows in this sucky rollercoaster of grief. I'm sure I'll be my normal happy self again soon. But in the meantime, I think I'm gonna grant myself permission to just feel sorry for myself. To throw myself a ragin' pity party. Hey, it is the weekend after all, right?

Miss you baby. Mama misses you so much.

Love,
Mom