The Prayer Flag Project

August 19th is the Day of Hope.

A day meant to remember children who have died.

I remember every day. Not just Ben, but so many other babies.

But the purpose of my participation in this wasn't just to remember, but to do.

There is a lot of healing in doing.

Making the flag, for me, wasn't about a finished product. It was about the journey in making it. It was about collecting the materials that reminded me of Ben, developing an idea, a reason, a picture, of something that was just... BEN.

I found a second hand baby swaddle. White. Almost brand new. Nothing special about it. Just a plain white muslin swaddling blanket, like the kind I used when Simon was born.

So I bought it. And I cried. Because I never got a chance to swaddle my little Bennet.

Other things I found either second hand or had at home already (being a collector of so many odds and ends). I didn't want to buy anything new for this. For me it was in the looking. The finding. The scrounging through meaninglessness and silly things and finding... him. Being able to see Bennet everywhere.

I ended up with a nice little pile of things.

That lovely white swaddle. Some fluffy white yarn. An old felted scarf that was a beautiful shade of tropical ocean blue and just kind of fun to touch. Odd bits of lace and ribbon. Shells. Driftwood. Glitter. Coloured paper.

And slowly an idea formed.

When Bennet was dying, and Phillip and I were stuck at the hospital in Hobart waiting for more and more tests, we were encouraged to get out of the hospital and walk around. We ended up spending most of our time on the waterfront, staring at the ocean, breathing in salt air. Wondering what was going to happen.

When we learned, a week later, two days after we go home, that his heart had finally stopped beating, we again ended up at the ocean. This time wandering a sandy beach picking up shells and one lonely piece of brown sea glass. Planning his funeral.

The ocean is a calming place. And ten months later, it still reminds me of him.

So I tied these things in to my little flag. The ocean, some shells, some paper stars. His name. All whimsical, childlike, and ocean-y.Something that completely reminded me of Bennet. Something that makes me feel like he's still part of me. Still part of my life. He's gone from me, but not forever.

The finished flag is beautiful. I held it and wept, and imagined what it would be like to have him here, nearly 10 months old, playing with the pretty dancing ribbon.

I placed it on his grave and sobbed. In the process of making, doing, searching, and most of all, remembering, I found help with healing, help with connecting to my grief and to my son. Taking that white swaddle and cutting it up and dying it (food coloring works better on skin than it does fabric. I just used watered down acrylics eventually to get the color I wanted). Stitching his name. Sewing paper stars. Weaving twine together. Sewing bits of ribbon, lace, and shells together. Using my hands. Making something for him. In memory of him.

But I DO have Faith

When someone breaks a leg, gets a concussion, has a cold, you never hear of that person being told, "just pray about it, have more faith, then you'll be healed IMMEDIATELY!"

That would be silly. We all know that broken bones take time to mend. Concussions take time to heal. And colds, well, chicken soup, a vaporiser, and, again, time.

For some reason, this same logic, that time and proper care help heal, does not seem to apply to loosing a child.

Or mental illnesses that may accompany that loss (well, mental illnesses in general).

A mixed media "can't sleep so might as well
be productive" piece from my journal.

Instead, the parents of the child that died are, quite often, offered platitudes like, "It was God's will", "He has something to teach you", "just pray, trust, you'll get through this."

As if loosing a child is something that can be patched up like a broken leg, and cared for like a common cold.

"Don't let it control you" is offered when you confess that you have severe anxiety about being left alone, or are constantly worried about your spouse, living child, or other family members. "Pray, trust", when you have PTSD-like reactions in the middle of stores because you see an ambulance pass by or hear a newborn cry.

I have faith. Oh goodness, do I have faith. Because I would not be standing here if I didn't. I have faith that the same God who allowed my son to die will bring me through this. Because God doesn't "will" that his creatures die. He did not make us, in the very beginning, to get old, sick and DIE. He allowed this for reasons I can not fathom, but God did not WANT my child to die. He did not want me and my husband and our oldest son to miss out on the blessing that was another child. The blessing that was our Bennet. God does not "WILL" that we suffer.

I trust that God will care for me. That yes, he may allow something like this to happen again. But he will hold me, again, through it, same as He is now. Angry, raging, furious, broken, He is, and will, hold me.

God teaches me. He CAN use this horrific experience for blessing. He can. But that does NOT mean that he's a giant bully and makes bad things happen so he can teach us a lesson. Blessing that flows from this loss are in SPITE of the loss, not BECAUSE of it.

I have pretty severe anxiety issues since loosing Bennet (I'm not saying I've been diagnosed with anything because, well, I haven't. I've only been able to see a therapist 5 times before I lost the only baby sitter I had and had to stop going). I held death inside me where life once existed. I gave birth to death. I placed my tiny, perfect, beautiful child into the ground. Any anxiety or trauma I experienced as a result of that is not because of a lack of faith and not enough prayer. It is a result of actual trauma. If prayer and reading my Bible and meditation could do away with the flashbacks, the nightmares, the constant racing heart and inability to sleep, the unwarranted fear about loosing Simon or Phillip... I would be fixed by now. They help, the prayer and reading. Because I notice a difference when I haven't had them. The anxiety and PTSD does not control me. It hurts me, it makes life very VERY difficult. But it does not rule my life. I refuse to let it.

But faith, prayer, it isn't a FIX. Not an automatic one, anyway.

It is a balm. Slowly healing, yes, but not a FIX.

We can't be fixed. We accept that most days. We're ok with that most days. Because we have no choice. Accepting it isn't bad, it isn't wrong, it doesn't mean we've given up on being happy. It means we realize our lives are different, and we will always hurt to some degree, always have an empty chair at the dinner table, an empty spot in family photos, always be missing Bennet.

It is OK to not be fixable. OK to be broken. Because God still uses broken people. God still uses us, and we still rely on God.

Two Years Old!

My little boy turned TWO! I no longer have a baby on my hands, and honestly, haven't for quite a while. He is a full-blown high-energy INSANE and wonderful toddler! I have survived nearly 2 full weeks of super-real toddlerhood! And, tantrums aside, this is one of my favorite ages.

Learning lessons from last year (where I went all-out for the family party we had while pregnant and very very sick), I supremely toned it down this year. Mostly because last year, for Simon's 1st birthday, we announced that he was going to be a big brother. So we weren't sure if we could emotionally handle having people over because it is, this year, anyway, one of "those" days, that might trigger extreme sadness (read: more than the every-day sadness) that Ben isn't here. I don't care about showing my sadness in front of most people, but people are EXHAUSTING. Parties more so.

But Phillip and I decided that, since we'd skipped the family Mother's Day celebration (it being another one of "those" days that just... hurt), we'd invite the family over to kind of say "yeah, we can't handle some things, but we still want to be around you when we can because we still care about you all."

Apparently several of my text invites never went through though, so two of four families never knew we even had a party (I apologised profusely and they're all happy), along with some other... upsets... about us missing Mother's Day... it turned out to be a very very small family party.

We had fun, though, celebrating our crazy kiddo. The weekend before (the day before Mother's Day), we took Simon to Ag Fest, as part of his birthday treat, to look at all the tractors, trucks, and other farm equipment that makes his little boy heart so happy.

Excavators are his FAVORITE

Something I learned from one of my cousins, who throws quite beautiful themed parties from time to time, is that it is best to simplify things. Pick the top few things you really really want to do, and do those. Otherwise, there are so many cool ideas out there to try, it gets VERY overwhelming and you end up only half doing any of the things and have a party that looks half as well put-together.

Thus, my focus for this little party was the table. (And what Simon loves, of course). Simon is, like a lot of children his age, absolutely in LOVE with trucks and tractors. So we made a "Farmer's Market" table for his food, and John Deere colors because, well, it was easy and we had leftover yellow stuff to decorate with. Phillip designed a quick a cool-looking sign to bring it all together. I cleaned out his dump truck VERY thoroughly, and we served sausages in it, and put a small tray in his wooden tractor and had "farm fresh" hard boiled eggs in it, and had plenty of fresh veggies and potato salad on the side. With the John Deere colored cake with it's little tractor on top, I think it all came together nicely. And the two-year-old looked about as impressed as a two-year-old can be with food.

I would probably do just about anything to get that smile to stay on his face.

He got a LOT of books from Grandma, Popop, and Mama
and Daddy.
And insisted on reading each one before going on to
the next gift

Our big gift to him this year was a ride-on tractor my sister convinced us to buy him because he tries to ride everything from soccer balls, to his toy trucks, to the cats (the last one is problematic). And of course he got books. He LOVES books. WE love books. Like my dad said, it's never to early to start your own library. He likes his tractor quite a lot, and didn't want to wait for it to come out of the box and get assembled before he rode it. 

So many ways I can see that my little man has grown so much in one year. He walks, he talks, he launches himself off of every possible surface that is more than one inch above the ground (the higher the better). He has a head full of curly blond hair! And, he cuts up his own food. Quite a big difference from his decapitation of the dragon cake last year. 

For You

My painting exhibit opened on the first of April. At Gallery Tasmania.

Three months of painting during every one of Simon's nap times, bed times, painting painting painting. I got 12 of my 20 pieces done in that short time.

There some important things learned from (finally) doing this.

Like that I am very very afraid that people will think I have "moved on" or am fully functioning, just because I can tackle a project like this. Truth is, my head is STILL rarely on straight. Grief does crazy things to you, physically and emotionally, and I find it remarkably hard to get to the end of a day and, regardless of how good it may have been, not break down and wonder how in the world I am going to muster the energy to get up the next day and do it all over again.

This started out as just "something to do" so I would have a goal to work towards and not let myself get completely sucked into my grief over loosing Ben. Because, to quote Finnick in Mockingjay:

"It takes ten times longer to put yourself together as it does to fall apart." 

It's taking all my energy just to keep moving on day to day as it is. I can't afford to fall apart because I don't have the energy to put myself back together again. This project, painting with a deadline, has kept me together. It has been frustrating at times, since during my free-time sometimes the last thing I've wanted to do is more work. But, while I've forgotten all the science-y reasons behind it, art, even just coloring with crayons in a coloring book, makes you feel good. It relaxes, and just... helps.

Slowly, I realized that the painting was more than just something to keep me together. It was something I was doing FOR Bennet. Using his memory, the pain caused by losing him, and his far-too-short life, for something good, something beautiful. Because each day that passes feels like I leave him further and further behind. Each day that passes is another day since I last felt him move inside my belly. Another day since I last held his small body in my arms. Another day further away from the day I left him in his small coffin on the side of a hill, alone. Painting, for him, brought him closer to me. Helped remind me that I carry him with me, in memory, always. That while the days bring me further from events, they don't bring me further from him.

And so, my paltry offering to his memory, for now, anyway, are these:

(To view the photos larger, just click on them)
(Due to differences in monitor settings, colors may appear different than in real life. Also, pictures rarely, if ever, do justice to paintings)
(Somehow, with both of us taking photos of everything, one piece STILL managed not to get photographed. I swear I did 20)

Poppies

Poppies Ready For Harvest

Saying Goodbye

Wrong Turn Down a Goat Trail

Another Wrong Turn

To the Water

Behind the Clouds

Storm's Coming

Black Cockatoo

Fairy Wren

Digger's Paradise

Rainy Day in Paradise

Mist and Sunrise

First Date

Open Road

Mathinna Falls

Hide and Seek

His Sheep

Westmorland Falls

(If you are reading this and are in Tasmania, or ever plan on visiting Tasmania, drop in to Fudge 'n' Good Coffee, that houses Gallery Tasmania, to look at other great local artwork, as well as try some, well, GREAT fudge and good coffee. No, I'm not sponsored or anything like that and that's why I say this. I just really like their fudge and coffee.)

Finding Some Beauty Through The Pain

Just before Simon was born, I asked for, and was given, a spot and date to exhibit my paintings.

I naively thought that newborns slept a lot. I was also unaware of how much pregnancy really exhausts me beyond any other kind of exhaustion I've ever experienced, including sleepless nights with a newborn.

A few months before I was meant to bring in my paintings, I admitted to myself it just wasn't going to happen, told the shop owner, and left the dream for another day, when I had a firmer grasp on this motherhood thing or more help at home, giving me time to paint.

And then I was pregnant again. And really really sick. And exhausted again. All. The. Time. With a toddler on top of it.

And then Ben was born. And I had no newborn keeping me up, or busy with feedings and holdings all day. And I have a fairly independent toddler who naps regularly and sleeps very well at night.

Now, I still don't really have a firm grasp on motherhood (but I've gotten good at faking it, and I think I'm a pretty terrific mom), and have the same amount of help around the house as before. But I have time, energy, and grief to work with now. And I needed... SOMETHING... to work towards. Some little way of moving forward instead of just stagnating.

So I asked again if I could show my paintings.

And they said yes. In March if I was up to it.

So I have been working my butt off the last few weeks painting every night and at Simon's nap time.

It doesn't mean I'm OK. It doesn't mean I'm "over it" and have worked through the grief of losing my son. But it does mean I can still be involved in something I enjoy. And that I can still find beauty through the pain (I may or may not have partially been inspired to take the big step of actually committing to do this by an episode of Dr. Who...*). And having that goal has helped me see past the pain and work with it.

It took a lot of thinking and praying to commit to this, honestly. Not only am I so overwhelmed by feelings sometimes that just getting out of bed and making sure Simon is fed, clean, and not in danger of jumping head-first off things is a massive effort, but this would be/is real work. That I am committed to someone else to have finished.

Then there is all this guilt. Stupid, stupid guilt over having free time. Because I SHOULDN'T. I shouldn't have the time or energy to be painting at night or in the afternoons. So while every painting I finish is a triumph, a little "yay me! I'm doing things!", it is followed quickly by the thought "this is just wrong". And working with that takes effort, too, because at first I couldn't do anything because of it. Now the wrongness is changing to, "well, life is just wrong and not how it should be, without my second son, but I can work with it, and through it, and try to accept the wrongness as just a part of a "normal" life".

*I do NOT compare myself to Van Gough. I am a ridiculous amateur who is half decent with a brush, not a master of putting color and light and emotion on canvas. 

Pintrest Challenge Wrap-Up

So... I finished my Pintrest challenge.

Somehow.

A little late.

But in my defense  nesting kicked in SUPER hard this last month, and I wanted to get the house clean before I got too big (or too encumbered with a newborn) to clean.

I hate excuses though, so I did actually finish my chosen projects, even when I got somewhat fed up with them. Well, one of them.

My original pins:

1. DIY Modern Nursing Shawl: I blogged about it here, if you so desire to read about it. Mostly the mix of my frustrations with reading/looking at tutorials and prego brain made this not as easy as it should have been. But I'm still super hapy with it, think it's adorable, and can't wait to use it as a nursing shawl instead of just a regular shawl

2. Blackberry Peach Cobler: I also blogged about it here. Oh my goodness, I wish we had more blackberries so I could make more. It's DELICIOUS. I at least froze a good three pounds of apricots (no, not peaches) to use later. Maybe with apples....

3. DVD Coloring Case: This. This is the pin that almost had me done, and ran me a bit late in completion of the 6 week time frame. I'll have a more in-depth explanation at the bottom of the post, as this is the first time I've been able to blog about it.

4. Fishing Net Decorated Jar: Cute and EASY. And I linked to the tutorial on this blog entry, if you want to check it out.

5. "Got Milk" Baby Hat: Phillip chose the colors for this one, so we have what I call "Alien Boob" hat. I still love it and think the hat is adorable and hilarious. I might have to make another one with different colors, just because I love a laugh.

6. Kanoko Baby Cardigan: I saved doing this 'til almost last, since I have never knitted a garment of any sort before. Oh. My. Goodness. It was SO easy! Once, you know, I figured out that I started out using the wrong sized needles, unraveled half a finished cardigan (so so tiny) and started over on larger needles. I love it! It's cute, and will be able to fit newborn (sleeves roll up SO easily) and a bit older. 

These DVD cases... oh my goodness. Maybe making one or two at a time would have been a better idea, but doing 6 (nearly done with a 7th, making it a velcro checker board. It's a project that contains a lot of variables. Too many, I'm thinking, when you're making this many. DVD cases aren't as big as you'd think, when you want them to contain a fabric pocket (that ends up bunching a bit in the corners, even when you're super careful about folding and gluing), even SMALL colored pencils, and a bit of paper. They close, but... not as well as I would have hoped. They should at least make fun little things for the kiddos to use once on the plane, or at least around home. 

And I do kind of like the random DVD cases with handles we found at a garage sale. We bought a bag of random DVD cases for a dollar, otherwise, I would go with just sewing little bags with pads of paper or something for kids to carry around and draw. Cute idea, maybe works for some, but not as practical and awesome as I thought it would be.

Before

After

Pintrest Challenge Catch-Up

Time for a catch-up on my Pintrest Challenge!

I actually finished my nursing cover using the DIY Modern Nursing Shawl tutorial a few weeks ago, but had to wait for hubby to be home to take some photos, as well as my prego brain to remember to take said photos WHILE hubby was home.

It was just as easy to make as the tutorial proclaimed... if you read through the instructions and comments very VERY carefully. And aren't pregnant and fuzzy brained or maybe a little better at sewing than I am. Fortunately  I wasn't the only one to make the mistake of sewing up more than what was needed. But, comments clarified and it really was a super easy thing to sew. (Yes, it says sew one line, but I managed that while still sewing up an extra side).

Sewing mistakes aside (really, all I did was sew up an extra side. Easily undone.), this is both a very pretty, stylish, practical, and CHEAP nursing cover.

I have to admit though, trying to find fabric here in Tasmania made me LONG for home and Hobby Lobby. Or JoAnnes. Or Hancock Fabrics. Heck, even Walmart. There just isn't nearly as much of a selection anywhere here as there is back home. Especially if you're on a budget. But I did find a cute black with small polka-dots knit fabric for $7 a meter (which was a little more than needed), and it turned out nicely.

Also, yay for finally getting a much-needed haircut!

I also managed to spruce up my Epsom salt jar in the bathroom using this as inspiration. And then I found a great tutorial on how to actually MAKE the fishnet around a jar at Craftberry Bush.

Before
A jumbling of junk as well as bath things.

After
A prettier jumbling of junk and bath things.

Epsom Salt jar now all prettified, and my home made
sugar scrub. Oooohhh it's nice on my feet!

I'm constantly changing what is in the jumble of junk on the tub "shelf". At least for now, until it gets taken up with baby things. And I found four glasses to use as candle holders (unless that was their original purpose, then I found four candle holders) for $0.10 at a second-hand shop to put around the tub. In keeping with my "I love shells and love to stuff them in glass jars and show them off" theme, I did just that and added a tea light. It makes for some nice relaxing baths, though maybe not quite enough light to read by. And what is a relaxing bath without a good book?

I love love love broken shells.

And, bonus, it's actually raining again. which means we have enough water in our tank to enjoy a bath now and then. After experiencing a real Australian summer (the hottest on record), and having only half a day maybe of real rain in four months, I actually find myself looking forward to long rainy days.