with love, lissa

Self Care Challenge #1
Find someone in your life, or a stranger, or yourself, who can use a life changing, simple, profound hug. <3

You might think this idea was a thought out therapeutic way to add to my healing. Instead, I was just looking at a photo of my kids hugging, and posting it at midnight, came up with a caption and realized it was turning into something much bigger in my head.

The blood drive is behind us. With it came so much healing and community. It was eye opening to me to see deep connected caring in the world around us. It made me feel so much comfort that we have already begun planning the next one, an annual event to look forward to, instead of a painful anniversary.

There are other anniversaries. Much smaller ones, that come once a week. Grief is like sitting on a deserted island and counting the weeks off. One line for each week, scratched into your life, gone. They pile up fast. The more there is, the further away you get from that last moment that you were happy. Sunday is that day of the week for me.

It used to be Tuesday I would wait for each week. The pregnancy weeks marked on my calendar. We have just passed the last one, 39 weeks. I am no longer counting down. I am counting up. I have collected 6 tick marks on my cave of grief. And the collection grows each Sunday.

I dread this day of the week. Its the day I usually don't leave bed at all. But that can't last forever. So in an effort to try and change Sundays into something I can plan and look forward to. At midnight tonight, an idea was born. I had planned to get up tomorrow and do some things that make me feel a little more human. And as I was scrolling through my phone, drowning out my mind, begging it to go to sleep already, I saw the photo.

My two living children - ugh I hate that I can't say 'all my children' anymore, that there is a distinct difference, not in gender of boys vs girls, but in living vs gone. - A simple photo of them hugging. There is SO many I have of them hugging. Always in a way that adults just cannot seem to usually do. Unconditionally. Can you imagine what a better place the world would be, if we loved each other as unconditionally as children do?

Those deeply compassionate hugs seem to only come in times of hurt. When we see someone so broken, we feel that holding them can somehow hold their brokenness together for even a short time. And if the hug is a genuine hug, sometimes it can magically do that. So I felt compelled to tell everyone who has given me one of those kinds of hugs in the last 6 weeks, how much they meant to me. And how they should come more than just when life is dark.

It spurred the idea that other people would be able to benefit from this idea of a challenge. Knowing that it would help me in a vain way of feeling that Anna's death will continue to bring some light into this dark world. Knowing that I need to start caring for myself in the same way again too. The last 6 weeks I have not recognized myself physically and mentally, and I can work on things to change that.

So if you would like to join me, you can follow along for the weekly idea. Some might seem profound, and some might seem so simple. A hug may sound like a simple challenge, but for me they have been on the profound side. And I wish for everyone to feel that kind of human compassion. I think we hold ourselves back in today's world of social media connection, instead of face to face humanity.

If you would like to join me with this same weekly self care challenge, you can leave me a comment about your weekly act. You can also follow along here, or on instagram. My account is @lissables and I am using #GiveLoveForAnna & #SelfCareSundayChallenges to document each week.

With love, lissa

I have been waiting to share this story on a day when I needed it most.

Like many moms I joined a babycenter birth board when I found out we would be expecting in June. I was mostly silent, this was my third baby and things progressed how I expected them to. I read it a few times here and there but didn't make my presence known.

On May 20 I got my daily email at 8pm about all the topics being talked about. The birth announcement thread was beginning to take off as babies don't stick to time lines. You are allowed to post birth announcements there, even in stillbirth. I posted a photo of the daughter I loved so much, she had just left my arms for the last time. I wanted the world to know she was here. She was just here, and now she was gone.

"We lost our sweet baby girl Anna today. I hadn't felt movement and drove myself to the ER. By the time I got there, I passed out in L&D, and almost died by minutes of making it there. Im currently stable but high risk. And poor Anna didn't make it. Im trying to wrap my head around how this happened. We just celebrated her baby shower yesterday. I think Im still in shock. She was so loved. And we never got to say hello."

I don't remember writing these words. Much like when I go back to re-read telling close friends and family. My mind has placed scars over some experiences, and though you can feel them, you don't remember them. These words I wrote, I can see the pain in writing them. So in shock and somehow needing the world to know them. I felt compelled that night to write just a piece of Anna in that place. A tribute and a warning in one.

On June 11 I received a message on instagram, from a stranger, on baby center.

"Dearest Alissa
I came from the June board on babycenter. I just want to express my deepest sympathy. I struggle to find the words to express something that is too horrible for words. Im so sorry, I'm just so so sorry for your immeasurable loss. I have been thinking of you every day since I saw your birth announcement on May 21"

I replied, "Don't take a single moment for granted. I wish so much I could be up all night with her crying. Treasure it all." Those were the darkest days for me. The shock wearing off. And seeing everyone around me continue to be blessed with healthy arrivals. I was not bitter or angry about it, I had twice been that person who is blissfully unaware of the heartache of child birth. Not knowing that for ever 99 babies who comes home, there is one family that leaves the hospital with empty arms and an even emptier heart.

I did not expect a reply, my response had been so bleak and cold. Whispers of regret filled what I thought was a message of knowing child loss and realizing how precious those first hard days are. Instead another message came up.

"I promise you that not a moment goes by where I am anything other than grateful. I saw your comment on the birth announcement thread and a few hours later, noticed that my own sweet girl was not moving. I hesitated for a moment about going in, wondering if I was overthinking, but I thought back to seeing your post that morning while in the bath -(This is the same thing that made me notice Anna not moving) And decided to go in. Your comment on that thread likely saved my baby's life. Madison came quietly into the world on May 21, not breathing, with a true cord wrapped tightly around her tiny little body. I lay in the OR praying and praying while they worked on her. The silence was deafening. She was in the NICU for 10 days due to complications. As a result of her dramatic entrance into the world. But she is home with us now. I have thought of you and Anna consistently and shed tears for you. Thank you for sharing your story on baby center. And continuing to share it here. I will pray for strength for you as you attempt to heal from this unfair blow, while still being a mother to both your boys, and a wife to Brandon."

I was sent back to moments of shock. Here was this baby thousands of miles away, I will never meet. And my story, Anna's story, saved her life. The blood drive is honoring the idea of saving lives, but here is an actual account of one child's loss being another child's first breath. I can't explain the comfort I find in that. But it is immense. I was brought to tears. Both happy and sad. That I have to live this life, and feel her absence every minute of every day, but also for happiness that in such a short amount of time, Anna's life, or lack there of, has changed SO many people's lives. There has been so many stories shared with us over the last month. Each one touching a unique space in my heart. A single stitch as it tries to mend itself.

On dark days, like this weekend, as we continue to creep forward to a date I once loved, and now dread. I like to remind myself of these stories. Of all the people Anna is saving. She is a genuine guardian angel. Seeking to repair the world. Ours is shattered as we miss her beyond words. But around us, people hear her name, filled with so much love, that it is actually changing the world for the better.

Madison will follow the exact life milestones that I would have had with Anna, born hours apart. Never to meet in this lifetime. A reminder of what could have been. That seems like something that should hurt my broken heart. But instead, I know, she is here living those milestones, because Anna could not. Instead of two mothers bonding over the same loss, there is one that is spared that grief. I have one guardian angel watching over me. And I have one life here on earth to count as hers.

Thank you Dana for not remaining silent. Telling me you didn't have the words to take away my pain. But giving me a gift in sharing your own daughters life. And letting me share this story when I need it most, to forever remind me that even in my worst days, there was still overwhelming goodness in the world. Because of Anna.

with love, lissa