Once upon a time: The book I never hoped to write.

Last winter I felt a story inside of me that needed to be written. I had connected with two beautiful mommies, Meagan and Nicole, through Brief Encounters- the infant loss support group that I attend. I felt that our babies were somehow part of a story that needed to be told; a story of our babies and of the babies' mommies and daddies. I wrote the story in about an hour on my laptop... late at night after Julia had gone to sleep. I wanted to turn it into a book with illustrations to give as a gift to Meagan and Nicole around Christmastime in honor of Anderson, Braxton, and Claire. I worked on simple pen and ink illustrations for the next couple of weeks, working at the dining room table in the stillness of the winter nights. The inspiration for a couple of the pictures came from searching for images online as I needed a subject to draw, but most came from within. I scanned the pictures, typed the text, and had it bound simply at an office store. The dedication in the first copies lists their babies along with their birthdays as well as Claire. The first picture in the book is that of baby blocks with the letters A-B-C. Anderson, Braxton, and Claire. I gave copies to Meagan and Nicole as well as others who had lost babies- Drew and Brittany, Erika and Grant, Suzanne, Amanda, and my Mom.

After asking Meagan and Nicole, I then gave the text and images to Brief Encounters. I had thought maybe that they would make some simple photocopies of the book and turn it into a pamphlet of some sort that could be put on their book table. I thought that maybe the little story I had written could bring some sort of peace to other parents. Their response, however, was much more than little. They asked if I was okay with them adding color to the images I had made and possibly distributing the story to hospitals and clinics. Asked if I would write a little something about my story and for a picture of Claire that could be included. Asked if I wanted to read the story at the Holiday Remembrance Ceremony this week, though I declined and said I would be happy if someone else would. Copies of the book were distributed to those in attendance.

I am honored by Brief Encounters and am humbled by the response that the little story has received. It doesn't feel right, however, to relish in attention for a story that my whole being wishes that I had never needed to write. I wish that I wouldn't have needed to have an outlet for a pain so deep that it wouldn't be ignored. Wished that I would have had a chance encounter with Meagan and Nicole with our living babies at a playgroup or grocery store- blessed to be tired and complaining about sleepless nights and not being able to take a shower every day. It's a beautiful book, but one written and illustrated with the ink of tears. Cliché, but true. It contains a message of hope... though at the time of its writing I was hoping that the outcome described in the book would someday actually come. I think I was writing the story to our future selves, hoping that we could find the peace that the story describes. Perhaps that is the moral of the story... that it is a pain that we learn to live with side-by-side on a daily basis. A constant dance of joy and grief, love and loss, tears and laughter. Meagan, Nicole, and I have had another baby. We were all expecting when I wrote the story and have perhaps been able to hope a bit more since our babies took their first breaths. Owen, Jade, and Audrey will know their sibling through the stories that we tell them, the rituals we create, and the memories we will relive. I hope that this story will become a part of the telling.

Once Upon A Time

By Laura Zahm

For

The Babies Who Could Not Stay and their Mommies and Daddies

Anderson Jacob       March 13, 2012

Braxton David       April 25, 2012

Claire Elaine           March 16 - April 13, 2012

Once upon a time there were Mommies and Daddies. First the Mommies were little girls and the Daddies were little boys. Then, seemingly overnight, they grew up.

One by one, the Mommies and Daddies met each other. They loved each other very much.

It was then that they knew that they were Mommies and Daddies, even though they really always had been. They wished and wished that a baby would come. And then one day, their babies did.

The Mommies kept the babies safe and warm, all tucked in for a long, long, time. The babies grew and grew. The Daddies talked to the babies and felt them kicking. The Mommies sang to the babies and told them how much they loved them. And the babies loved their Mommies and Daddies.

One by one, the babies came. But the babies could not stay. And the Mommies and Daddies cried for a long, long time.

The Mommies and Daddies wondered why their babies could not stay, but no one could tell them the answer. It was hard to understand.

The Mommies and Daddies found that a lot of people didn't understand, either. Sometimes people would try to help but only seemed to make things worse. Sometimes they felt very alone.

Then the Mommies and Daddies met the other Mommies and Daddies. They told stories about their babies. They laughed together. They cried together. It was good.

Little by little, the Mommies and Daddies realized that their babies could teach them things even though they couldn't stay. The babies taught them how to grow, and grieve, and teach, and love.

They learned that their babies were like tiny raindrops that fall onto a pond. The babies made ripples that stretched far and wide.

The Mommies and Daddies realized that their babies would always be there even though they could not stay.

The Mommies and Daddies sometimes cried,

and sometimes laughed,

and always remembered.
 

I wrote this story as part of my journey after losing our daughter, Claire Elaine Zahm. Claire was born March 16th, 2012 and lived in the Providence St. Vincent NICU until April 13, 2012. Being her mother has been one of my greatest joys. Losing her is my greatest sorrow. Claire had multiple medical issues, the cause of which remains unknown. During her life we were able to see her strong spirit, curiosity, and acute awareness. Her motto became, "And though she be but little, she is fierce." - Midsummer Night's Dream. I am mother to Claire's big sister, Julia, and hopefully await the arrival of our third baby girl due to arrive May, 2013.

Part of what makes my grief bearable is connecting with other parents who have lost babies through Brief Encounters. This story took root as a result of meeting other women and having a chance to talk about our beautiful babies together. I hope that you may also find comfort in the company of others who understand because they, too, are walking this same path.

Laura Zahm