Mother’s Day & Liam

The birth/death of Liam Andrew — my stillborn son who would have turned twenty-nine today — occurred three days before Mother’s Day. And my mother had passed away two years before that.

I still remember how the combination of shock, grief, and hormonal changes left me feeling completely dazed and confused as I negotiated those first days. And Mother’s Day cards had me reeling.

After all, I no longer had a mother and all of a sudden I wasn’t going to be a mother either. It was a very surreal time.

Twenty-nine years later the grief and the wounds have healed. But there’s always a few moments in the lead-up to Mother’s Day when I have to pause and reflect and give thanks for my mother and for the experience of being Liam’s mother for even a short while.

On time & healing

I’ve reflected a lot on this quote, and today — the 26th birth/death anniversary of my stillborn son, Liam Andrew — seems the perfect time to share my personal conclusions.

Basically, I both agree and disagree with Rose Kennedy’s statement. Yes, the wounds remain — forever. Whether of the body, mind, or spirit, the injury doesn’t ever truly disappear. It will always be registered somewhere in your body and/or psyche. One doesn’t ever simply “forget” that it happened.

But…! The reality of time passing; scar tissue forming; and pain lessening IS — in fact — the healing! The experience of loving and losing Liam Andrew had a profound effect on me at every level of my being. And at the same time, I am healed and whole. Because time passed, scar tissue formed, and the pain lessened…then eventually went away.

So, I submit that the wound remains AND healing happens.

Forever in our hearts

“You are loved”

It is with humility and love that I create this altar for the star babies, the water babies, the angel babies, the spirit babies for Dia de Los Muertos. To the babes: You are not in our arms but forever in our hearts. ❤️ YOU ARE LOVED ❤️

It’s been over a quarter of a century since I first met Jane, whose words are quoted above. She and Shannon were the midwives supporting me through my pregnancy and planned home birth, but their role shifted dramatically the morning I went into labor.

Instead of joyously welcoming a new life to the planet, they helped me move through the process of giving birth while also grieving the stillbirth of my baby. I am so grateful to have had their amazing support during that transformative, life altering experience.

Now, twenty-five years later, I still feel Jane’s loving support through the altar for spirit babies that she creates every year for Dia de los Muertos (the Day of the Dead). Every heart on the altar represents someone’s lost babe and I deeply appreciate having Liam’s light represented there. Thank you, Jane! 💗

The altar in its (impressive) entirety!

A quarter of a century

Today I’m remembering being twenty-five years old and trying to wrap my mind around the fact that I had been alive for a quarter of a century! It felt like such a milestone.

A quarter of a century…!

Well, twenty-five years ago today, I gave birth to a stillborn baby boy — Liam Andrew Brooks O’Donnell. And I find myself reflecting on the fact that, if he had lived, he would be the one trying to wrap his mind around having reached that milestone.

A quarter of a century…!

I’m also reflecting on the saying, “time heals”, which I have found to be true. It takes years and years, but the gut wrenching anguish does lessen and the apparently random breakdowns come less and less frequently. Life really does go on, despite your conviction that it couldn’t possibly.

True, there may always be a little something — a wistfulness, a hint of sadness — but a whole lot of other experiences — painful, joyful, and everything in-between — tend to pile up in twenty-five years of living. Until, in my experience at least, you can hardly remember who that person was that you were.

A quarter of a century…indeed!