Out of the Darkness
  • Home
  • About the Author
    • Meghan's Hope
    • Press Kit: Invite Kimberly to present at your event
    • Upcoming Events
  • Buy the Book!
  • Resources
    • Resources for Parents, Grandparents, Siblings, and Family/Friends
    • Memorial Gift ideas
    • Recommended Reading
    • For Professionals and Paraprofessionals
  • Grief Support Blog
  • Reviews
  • Contact

The importance of self-care in grief

5/2/2015

2 Comments

 
Picture
As bereaved parents, we are often so lost in our grief, especially in the first few months and years, that we forget to take care of ourselves. For some, it's part of the shock, numbness, fatigue and depression that is common in grief.  For others, it's a lack of appetite, energy, or perhaps emotional eating that causes weight gain or loss, a falling off of a usual exercise routine, or previously religiously kept spa appointments that fall off the radar.  Sometimes, it's because we're so busy taking care of our other children, an older parent, or swamped with work.  We often don't even realize we're not taking care of ourselves, because we think we're doing "okay" and no one told us otherwise.  Whatever it is that causes it to begin, we often get stuck in a pattern until someone points it out and gives us the chance to break that pattern. 

Today, I had the opportunity to attend a healing retreat for bereaved mothers.  It was organized by a local support group for bereaved parents and was held at a spiritual retreat center.  It was especially for bereaved moms and I think there were 18 people including the facilitators.  It was billed as a day of hope and healing and that's exactly what it was.  

The day began with a bit of mingling before we were brought together for a quick introduction to the schedule of the day and a lovely healing/restorative yoga session.  The instructor was a bereaved mom who had special yoga training in working with trauma and grief.  Many of the moms said that it was in that yoga session they realized how much physical tension, stress, or dis-ease they were holding in their bodies for the first time and made the connection with it to their grieving.  The opportunity to identify it, consciously relax, and release it was such a gift. 

Yoga was followed by a group session in which we all had a chance to introduce our child to the group. Speaking for just about 5 minutes each, we lit a candle for our child and passed around a photo of them so everyone could "meet" them.  While the photo went around, we talked about our child.  Not just about how old they were when they died or what their cause of death was, but about their life, their personality, the impact their life and death had on our lives.  There were tears.  There was laughter.  There was some swearing in both anger and humor.  There was compassion.  There was no judgment, only love and understanding.  The kind that can only come from another bereaved mom.  Some of the moms had lost their children as recently as 4 months ago, some a decade or more had passed since their child had died.  They lost newborns, toddlers, teens, and adult children.  The opportunity to share, learn, understand their grief, and heal was beautiful.  The facilitators were heart centered and excellent because of and in spite of their own grief.  


Next, there was lunch and an opportunity to connect with those who shared similar losses or had other information for us.  Some of us gathered on the front stairs to soak up the sun and chat some more.  


The afternoon consisted of a wealth of self-nurturing and healing bodywork, including mini Reiki sessions, chair massage, and an amazingly relaxing sound healing.  The day closed with a circle facilitated by a woman who was teaching us how to connect with our children in spirit and included another deep relaxation session.


The day was exactly what it promised - healing and hope.  A chance to self-nurture. A chance to stop and listen to our bodies, our mind, our soul, and our spirit.  An opportunity for us to be open to receiving love and light, healing energy, and physical and emotional release.  


Moms can be pretty hard on themselves on any given day.  We are always helping and nurturing and caring for others, putting our own needs last.  In grief, we are even more likely to forget to take care of our own physical, emotional, and spiritual needs, and often, we don't even realize the toll that neglect takes on us on every level.  


The thing is, our children, on earth or in spirit, want us to be happy and healthy.  They don't want us to wallow in grief and pain.  They want us to remember their life, honor them, and yes, it's okay to feel the pain of grief, but through self-nurturing, you can better cope with the challenges of grief and release the pain and fear to open your heart and soul to love.  For love raises our vibration and a higher vibration brings us closer to connecting with spirit.  


I feel as if today was one of the greatest gifts I've given myself in my grief and it's been ten years.  It's an entirely different experience to have all of these relaxation and healing opportunities in one day than it is to have them individually over the course of weeks or months.  Of course any opportunity to self-nurture is good!  The take home message is that you deserve you time. You deserve time to both honor your child's life and loss while allowing your body to release the tension you hold as a result of the cloak of grief you wear. Taking care of you is vital to your health and well-being.  Your child would want you to be healthy, happy while still holding them in your heart and memory.  You can have both! 


Be sure to take some time to nurture yourself every day.  Even if it's just a quite cup of tea, a few deep meditative breaths, or a walk outside.  Find something that resonates with you physically, a once a week yoga class, walking or some other exercise, or a massage once a month.  Made it a priority to have a date with your soul.  You deserve it.  


Namaste.






2 Comments

Anticipatory Grief:  Coping with Mother's Day when you have lost a child

5/1/2015

3 Comments

 
It's May 1st.  May holds the promise of warmer weather, the unfurling of leaves on the trees, and the blossoming of the flowers.  Birth abounds in nature.  

May also brings one of the most bittersweet days of the year for bereaved mothers everywhere.  Mother's Day.  I can already feel the anticipatory grief building and it's still 10 days away.

As a mom, I, of course, always looked forward to Mother's Day.  When my children were young, I loved the crafts they made in school and the dandelions they picked just for me.  I loved celebrating my children, my motherhood, and reflected on how blessed I was to have three beautiful children, two of them twins.  We had such fun...

Then, suddenly, one was gone.  After Meg died, Mother's day was no longer a day I looked forward to. It is a day I dreaded.  A day all about being a mom.  A day when I am harshly reminded that I failed at the most basic level of my role as mother.  I failed to keep my child alive.  The guilt is like a slap in the face on this day more than any other. Where there used to be three children to spend Mother's Day with, there were only two.  Except it wasn't just Mother's Day.  It was forever.

The first few years I noticed I got very irritable and depressed as Mother's day drew closer.  The very first year I didn't even realize why or that was how I was behaving.  On the day itself, I woke early and went to the cemetery.  THE CEMETERY. No mother should have to spend any part of Mother's day at the cemetery!   There I cried. I wrote.  I even lay upon her grave while sobbing.  I hated the day and just wanted it to end.  I wanted to run away. I wanted to pull the covers over my head and hide.  I wanted to be alone.  I just couldn't deal.  I tried to enjoy what my boys did for me and to spend quality time with them, but it was so hard.  To look at them and know she was missing, it was almost unbearable, more so on this day than any other, since it was all about being a mom, thus all about my children.  Why? How? How could I even consider myself a "good" mother when one of my children had died? No, don't celebrate me.  I don't deserve it.  That was the undercurrent of what I felt, though I never expressed it at the time. 

As the years passed, I noticed the anticipation of Mother's Day was almost worse than the day itself. Knowing it's a trigger day, knowing it's a difficult day for me, the waiting for it to come, and thus, be over, is worse than the actual day itself most of the time now.  In 2009, 5 years after Meg died, I was at the cemetery on Mother's day morning, alone, as I always do.  I sat in front of her stone and had a tearful conversation with her.  For some reason, I felt compelled to look to my right, skyward.  I saw this:

Picture
Could there be any more obvious sign of love from the Heaven's?  I smiled through fresh tears.  Thank you, Meggie.  I love you, too.  Mommy really needed that! 

I've gotten heart clouds as a sign ever since she died, and now I also very often see hearts in nature in every way, in addition to frequent hearts in the sky.  This one was one of the biggest, most obvious, and most special ones I've ever seen.

Now, ten years have passed.  Ten Mother's Days without my little girl.  I'd like to say they are easier, but I'm not sure they are.  They are different.  I guess I've learned what to expect and how I best cope with the grief I feel a bit more strongly on this day.  Don't get me wrong, I still dread the day.  I still shed tears.  I still want it to be over long before it is here.  I am still starkly reminded of my essential failure as a mother (please know despite my guilt, I have processed and accepted it, yet still can't help how I feel) this day more than any other, but I try to focus on the fact I am still her mother.  

I am still the mother of three.  On Mother's day, I have a wonderful opportunity to educate others that we bereaved parents are still parents to our angel babies.  Just because our children no longer walk on earth with us does not mean we are not their mommas.  They are still our children.  We can still mother them through our memories, the sharing of their name, their story, their personality, their energy.  We can maintain a relationship with them through reminiscing, prayer or communication with them in whatever way resonates with us. We remember them.  Every day.  On this day, like every other, I live between two worlds.  The earthly world where we are having our human experience, and the spiritual world, where I maintain a connection and a relationship with my daughter and other deceased loved ones.  It's a beautiful thing, but not unlike a tightrope at times.  I'm never sure if the net will hold me when I fall (emotionally). 

If you are a bereaved mom, know that this may be a difficult day for you.  Honor your feelings and know whatever you feel is okay.  Let others know it's a difficult day for you and why.  Let them know what you do and do not want to do to celebrate your motherhood and your relationship with your children, alive or deceased.  If your family wants to take you out from brunch, but the thought of having to be 'on' and social in an environment where there are lots of people and you feel like you have to 'hold it together' when all you want to do is cry or run out the door, let them know you'd rather do something else.  Or maybe, do nothing at all.  It is your day after all, do what you feel you need to do to cope and to heal. 

As a bereaved mom, how do you plan to spend your Mother's day?  Do you have any traditions or rituals that you have created to remember your child on this day? 

If you know a bereaved mom, know that Mother's Day is one of the hardest days of the year for her, no matter how long her child has been gone or how old they were when they died.  Let her know you are thinking of her and her child (say their name to her).  Let her know you are sensitive to the fact this day is probably a difficult one for her.  Offer to be there for her.  Perhaps send a card, email, or post a heartfelt message on Facebook and raise the grief I.Q. of her friends, too!  Maybe bring her flowers or gift her something with her child's photo or name to honor the mother and child relationship, a keepsake she can treasure. Share a memory you have of her and her child with her.  Tell her you love her.  


Please always remember, one a momma, always a momma.  Love never dies...

Picture
Mother's Day 2014 with my boys. I was finally ready to go to Mother's Day brunch. The one on my right is Meg's twin.
3 Comments
    Picture

    Archives

    October 2015
    September 2015
    May 2015
    April 2015
    February 2015
    January 2015
    December 2014

    Categories

    All

    RSS Feed

Proudly powered by Weebly