Changing seasons

I have been following, among many others, the Faces of Loss blog. Sometimes it's too much for me to read all the different ways others have lost babies but it's comforting to know I'm not alone. They have a monthly writing challenge and I am a sucker for assignments (R always gives me assignments for the weekend and I feel good accomplishing them even if it's just 'clean the bathroom' and 'buy milk').

September's topic is: How has the changing of seasons (from summer to fall) impacted you in your grief journey?


The change from summer is always welcome for me. Even when I was a kid I didn't really like summer. It's hot and muggy. I didn't get to see my friends at school. My brother and sister are older than me and never wanted to play with me. My parents are divorced and my mom worked a lot so I was by myself a lot. We never did any big vacations so I never had much to look forward to during the summer except a lot of reading and TV watching.

Then fall would come around and I got new clothes, got to learn new things, got to see my friends again. Plus I love all that goes with fall in New England: apple picking, leaves changing color, cool nights, sweaters and corduroys.

I feel that same rush now. After a very, very slow summer work is picking up for me. It means more stress but it also means the time goes by quicker. The days and nights are getting cooler. You can smell the leaves starting to change.

And because I'm pregnant again I've been getting some new clothes. This is partly because I'm heavier than I was at this point with Stella and partly because sometimes new clothes just make me feel better.

Fall approaching also means that time is marching on.  I feel like Stella is gone and she will always be gone and I will always be sad, whether it's now at 7 months or 7 years from now. I just wish she was here so I could share my favorite season with her. However, the closer we get to January, the closer we get to meeting this new baby.

I do wonder, though, how the change from fall to winter will be. Stella was born on a fairly warm February day and died on a cold, raw rainy February day with every kind of weather in between, including a massive snowstorm. I have a lot of memories with her in my belly that happened in the colder weather. In December we went to NYC to see the Rockefeller Christmas tree. It was my first time and I have tons of pictures of me with the tree and that big bump. I was surprised by how snugly my maternity jacket was getting. We thought we wouldn't be back for a long while. Over the long weekend of New Years I hunkered down in the house to make Stella's quilt. R was outside shoveling snow and I could see him chatting with neighbors through the window.

I know my anxiety will only build as fall goes on but for now I am content to go back to pajama pants and slippers and cuddling under a blanket on the couch. If only we had our little girl to share these times with.