March/April - Children's Wisdom - Share Pregnancy & Infant Loss ...

Stouching lives...Volume 20, Issue 2Mar/Apr 2011haringhealing hearts...giving hope...Topic this Issue:Children's WisdomWe hope that this newsletterbrings you comfort and hopefor the future.

DearFriends,Most children who have a sibling that dies due to a pregnancy loss, stillbirth or in the first fewmonths of life will experience a grief reaction. Parents often ask me, “Will my child be negativelyaffected by the death of their baby sibling?” I have to say the answer to this question is, “Usually not,if the child's grief is acknowledged and they are given opportunities to grieve.” In this newsletter,you will be touched by sibling's stories and poems as well as their parents reflections. We hope youwill find some ways to support your child or even a niece or nephew along this journey.Cathi Lammert, RNExecutive DirectorAs I worked with my own children and other bereaved families through their grieving tidbits ofinformation have surfaced many times. Children have been some of my greatest teachers along theway. I share with you the following:Kids Pearls of Wisdom…I am little but I am still hurting.Don't act like I am not in the room. I overhear your conversations. Talk to me, too.Tell me the truth and use proper terms.Give me information about choices about being with my deceased sibling, farewell ritualsand memory making and I will give an opinion about what I want to do.I will ask many questions and some will be repeated but I usually only raise the questions Ineed the answers to.I may state facts about my brother or sister's loss without sugar coating to any one who willlisten.Children who are grieving can only take so much. Sometimes I take breaks on grieving andneed to do fun things.I often give hugs and try to comfort you far better than most adults. I won't talk you out ofyour grief.I may need to work my grief out through play or art.I may bounce back far quicker from the loss than my mom or dad.As I enter each step of development, I may want to revisit our loss and learn more detailabout my brother and sister and the loss experience.Rose CarlsonProgram DirectorStephanie GrantDevelopment DirectorKnow we are here for you and your dear family each step of the way. As the tulips and daffodilsappear during this springtime, may you find a tiny piece of hope..Megan NicholsOutreach & PR DirectorWith hope,Cathi Lammert, RNExecutive DirectorJeanna O’LearyShare Group CoordinatorDeb WelschAdministrative Assistant

ContentsFeatures...14...15...19...10...11...13...14...15...17...Smoke & FireMemories of My SisterTwo Sets of TwinsRespecting Children's Instincts & AwarenessAlways in Our HeartsBrotherhoodMolly & EmilyFacing a Lonely PassoverRe-Learning Acceptance.......................................In Every Issue...Dear Friends.........................2In Memory of.........................6Discussion Board.................12Heart Art.............................14Memo Board........................15Events Across the Nation....18Sharing is partially funded byEmployees Community Fundof Boeing St. LouisUpcoming Events...Share Your Knowledge Trivia NightSaturday, April 9, 2011 at 6 p.m.Machinist HallBridgeton, MissouriTables on sale now!9th Annual Angel Ball: Sunset over the SavannahSaturday, April 16, 2011 at 6 p.m.Saint Charles Convention CenterSaint Charles, MOEntertainment provided by The Fabulous Motown RevueFor reservations call 636-947-6164.3

Children's Wisdom Mar/Apr 2011Smoke & FireWritten by Carol McMurrichLife as a babylost mother can seem full of unanswerablequestions.“Is this your first?”“How many children do you have?”Or even, in the early days, “How are you?”Some days, finding the energy to prepare an answer, be it sullenor witty, seems too much. But I had prepared the response to oneparticular question when my second born, Liam, was only fourmonths gestation: I knew what I was going to tell him when heasked me what had happened to his sister's body.I had gotten the idea from a little, tattered green book calledWhen a Baby Dies. The book contained a short story about a familyin England whose third child had passed away. The parentsdecided to let the older children, who were six and nine years old atthe time, decide what to do with the baby's body, which had beenplaced into a box. They told the children they could return the bodyto the earth by burying the baby's box beneath the ground, orreturn her to the air by placing the box on a special fire, whichwould turn her body into smoke. How simple and lovely they madeit sound.The question of what to do with our daughter's body was huge forme. When the social worker asked if I wanted my baby to be buriedor cremated, I slipped from stunned numbness, leaning over mystill-pregnant and laboring belly, and began to heave the hugest,deepest sobs. All I wanted to do was bring my baby home. In theend, we chose to cremate Charlotte. This decision was made basedpurely on the fact that we ourselves would choose cremation overburial, so it only made sense to choose this for our child.Liam knew that Charlotte's body wasn't here anymore, but hesaw her pictures all over her house, so he knew that she once was.Whenever we talked about Charlotte's death, we explicitly dividedthe body and soul in order to set the stage for my answer whenLiam did ask what had happened to her body. We always told himthat a person has two parts: the body, which does the moving andthe walking and the talking, and the spirit, which does the thinkingand the feeling. We told him that when a person dies, their bodystops working, but the part that does the thinking and the feelinggoes to live in the stars.Our family doesn't really have a true heaven concept, rather theidea that the spirit is still lurking around somewhere, thatsometimes she's here, and sometimes she's there, and we neverquite know where she might be.But, for what seemed like the longest time, he never asked thequestion: what happened to Charlotte's body?together one night in the semi-dark, with the sloped ceiling cradlingus in his warm, quilted bed. The lullaby CD was playing and wewere lying there, just quietly, because he wanted some company.Out of the darkness he asked, “Do we still have Charlotte'sbones?”This was it. He loved dinosaurs, and he understood that whensomething is dead, sometimes you can still see the bones.“No, we don't have Charlotte's bones. Are you wondering whathappened to Charlotte's body after she died?”He nodded, and curled his body a little deeper into the comma ofmy belly. I took a breath, and gave him the answer that I had spentall these years preparing.“When a person dies,” I said, “you have the choice to return theirbody to the earth by burying them, or return them to the air byholding their body over a special fire that turns them into smoke.Daddy and I chose to have Charlotte returned to the air. Andbecause her body wasn't working anymore, it didn't hurt. We stillhave a little jar with the ashes that are left.”I stopped explaining, and waited for Liam's reply. I was almostafraid. Would he be horrified? Terrified? There was a moment ofsilence. Then he spoke.“Can wood turn into smoke?”“Yes, honey, it can.”“Can paper?”“Yes.”And that was all. We listed into silence again, the lullabiesplaying in the dark.I was reminded once again how simple it is to be a three-yearold,when it seems almost okay that your sister turned into smoke,just like the logs in your fireplace, and where any answer is as goodas anything else, as long as your mom is really listening to you andanswering the questions that you have.I hugged him tightly, remembering that the things that seemmost complicated to us adults sometimes don't seem so strange tothe children around us.Carol McMurrich lives and writes in Western Massachusetts,surrounded by her husband, two living children, and the spirit ofCharlotte Amelia. She runs a community resource and supportgroup for baby lost families.Finally, when he was three and a half, we were lying in his bed

Memories of My SisterWritten by Maureen DayIhave only a few memories of my sister, Patti; really just glimpses that Irecall… jumping rope in the kitchen and getting in trouble, laughing onthe couch, seeing her sick lying on my mom and dad's bed. Then, shewas gone. I was only 4 years old when she died at the age of eight,unexpectedly from Reye Syndrome - sudden brain damage occurring fromthe use of aspirin to treat chicken pox. I didn't understand any of this, ofcourse, at the time. I only knew she was gone and so were her pictures andthat every time I said her name, my mom would cry and my older brotherwould get very angry with me. So, I quickly learned and followed along. Iwas afraid to ever have a friend named Patti, not wanting to speak her namebut kept my angel sister close to my heart and would talk to her at night. AsI grew, sometimes I would secretly whisper to my mom asking about herwhen no one was around. She always cried and I always felt so badly aboutthat, but my desire to know compelled me to choose hurting my motherrather than go on pretending. It became our secret and she would tell mesmall, beautiful details about her. Like how much my older sister loved meand had fun playing with me. And the time she dreamed about her… shehad her blonde hair all in curls just like my mom always liked to fix it, andshe walked in the back door, came directly over to my mom and without aword, gently kissed her cheek. She believed this was Patti's way of sayinggood-bye. We rarely spoke of her, but when we did it was so healing and justfelt so right inside even though I was convinced what I was doing was sowrong. To avoid the pain I believed I was inflicting on my mother, I wouldsneak around and ask neighbors what happened, rummage through herbottom dresser drawer and find pictures of her and sweet little notes anddrawings she had made that my mom had tucked away. I just needed toknow as much as I could.Eight years ago I lost my baby, Katie, at 11 weeks. I was devastated andsurprised at just how deep my pain and sense of loss was. I felt compelled todo something with my experience and tried to help others who weregrieving in the same way. But it wasn't until I attended a class calledChildren & Grief that I had a personal epiphany, a revelation connecting somany dots in my life. I learned that if you're old enough to love, you're oldenough to grieve. It was explained that, at the age of four, children processthrough repetition – which was why I kept asking over and over again aboutmy sister. And as children develop and death can be more clearlyunderstood, they need honest explanations so their minds don't just fill inthe blanks, which can be scarier than the reality. And at each stage ofdevelopment, children need to be allowed to grieve all over again. Denyinggrief and loss only postpones, never eliminates. The only way to movethrough it is to acknowledge, talk, cry, and FEEL every emotion that comesalong on the grief journey. Having a support system, opportunities to shareand express grief, a stable environment, information about death, andencouragement to just be a “kid” will allow children to mourn in a healthyway.My parents were wonderful, loving people and I don't blame them in anyway. They did the best they knew to do and times were different then in theway people dealt with death. But as a child of loss in an environment thatdid not allow for healthy grieving, without even realizing it, I had beenprepared for being a parent experiencing loss. Somehow I instinctivelyknew that I NEEDED to acknowledge my baby, talk about her, keep her partof our family, express my love for her, and openly grieve her loss. I am sothankful for my sister Patti and the lessons her young life taught me thatwill last me and allow me to serve others for the rest of my life.5

Children's Wisdom Mar/Apr 2011Thank you for your Gifts!In memory of...Jana Sierra AlfordOur beloved daughter. Born silentSeptember 15, 2002. A silentmoment in our arms, forever in ourhearts.By: Christa AlfordMary Margaret AlexanderBy: Wayne AlexanderOwen Michael BackerBy: Erica MurphyBaby BairdBy: Cameron BairdAidan and Jack BarattaBy: Kelley and Mike BarattaMakenna Marie BarronBy: Martin BarronBjornBy: Petronella GuruleSarah BlanchardIn memory of Sarah Blanchard withlove and prayersBy: Linda and Ron BlanchardCorynn Hannah BoresiBy: Rhonda KurzThe Three Childers AngelsBy: Colleen ChildersJess C. Cooper IVForever remembered and alwaysloved. Missed by his Mom, Shawn,and twin brothers, Jordan andCody.By: Shawn DennisEmma Elizabeth ClohertyBy: Kevin and Maureen MoranEllen Elizabeth DennigmannThinking of you baby girl, LoveNanaAlivia M. DeschaineBy: Mary KochConnor Arellano DouglasBy: Julia and AdamWeyhauptFinnegan DouglasBy: Sarah and Chuck MattinglyBy: Mr. and Mrs. John InkleyEliza Taylor DuckworthBy: Dean and Peggy BakerKathryn Ann EwaldBy: Missy EwaldStephen James FarrowBy: Kathryn FarrowEllie Warren FieldBy: Melanie FieldLynsie FishmanBy: Cynthia LaytonRita Rose GaertnerBy: Jennifer O'KeefeJack Andrew Granger IIIn memory of our son, stillborn atth32 weeks, July 4 , 2004.By: Jack GrangerJames Michael GrayBy: Lucy and Mike GrayPatrick James GreenBy: Virginia GreenAndrew Daniel HampesBy: William and Anita HampesMason Lee HarrisBy: Lee and Denise HarrisRidge Chappel HneleskiBy: Carcy HneleskiNathalia JimenezBy: Dailyn SilvaJeremy JohnsonBy: Carol JohnsonSalmon JuenkeWe love you and miss you. Youhave a little sister now-her name isAlcie.By: Emily KatzAngelena Rose KosiorBy: Megan ZendarskiThe Kiefer BabiesBy: Mike and Vicki KieferBen KrollBy: Amanda PortesLainee and FionaBy: With love Lembuth, Shea,Robinson FamiliesLauren and Emma LambertBy: Karen and Ron WilkinsonBy: Jan Conlin and Eugene GoetzBy: Tom and Shelly SinasBy: Michael and Mishi HartmanBy: Claudia NixonBy: Ally BeekmanBy: Andrea KiehlBy: John and Elizabeth ScottBy: Cheryl TischlederBy: Steven GeorgeBy: Kristin HeebnerBy: Ann MitchellBy: JoAnn O'LearyBy: Barbara HovelandBy: Debbie and Marc HaskoBy; Susan SmithBy: Tony EngebretsenBy: John Geelan

By: Ronald and Kimberly PriceBy: Eleda Francis HubbardBy: Erik RomsloBy: David SwensonBy: David ZuccoBy: Todd WilkinsonBy: Shira ShapiroBy: Julia Dayton KleinBy: S. KolarBy: Carrie and Lou LambertBy: Melba SmithBy: Mark and Amy PihlstromCharles W. LammertBy: Gregory LammertNina and Teresa Bowman LimBy: Joy and Chito LimLindsey Nicole MahoneBy: Lorry and Maurice MahoneCaroline Grace and ChristinaRose ManerBy: Kimberly ManerCharlotte Mary McBurneyLove her friends and cousins onearth! We love you!!!By: Katy McBurneyBaby MckennaWe will always remember you,much love.By: Angela BellAmber Rae McMillianBy: Robert and Helen WeissMary Fran McVeyBy: Mrs. Fran McVeyHope Elizabeth MoriartyBy: Kathryn ScruggsChristian and MichaelMutchlerBy: Anton and Rachel JaarNathaliaOur little granddaughter who wasborn on July 23, 2010.By: Victor SilvaLeah Ceylon Necole NealBy: NYPL Staff ServicesAddyson Lynn PeachBy: Jim and Jill PeachJoshua Mirkay RedingtonBy: Melissa and Chris RedingtonLiliana Reinhart“Sweet little flower of Heavenlybirth, you were too fair to bloom onearth”By: Jennifer and CarriEvelyn Louise RohdeBy: Andy and Teresa RohdeBrendan Terrence RooneyBy: Jodi RooneySteffen RothOur little newborn grandsonBy: Ray and Diana CheshireCharley RowekampBy: Kathryn AlexanderPhilip SauderBy: Clair and Nancy SauderWilliam Joseph SchamelBy: Laura Richter and PaulSchamelHailey SeabrooksBy: Nicole SeabrooksCohen Michael StremmelBy: Bob, Joyce and Kristyn HarlandKennedy Morris StuckeyBy: Charles MorrisSophia Nance VeinBy: Carcy HneleskiTess WelkerBy: Brian WelkerAngel Serra WingateBy: Mandy WingateIn Honor of...Trina VolzBy: David and Debra VolzIn honor of Carrie Lambert'sinvolvement in Share and in honorof Carrie making partner in herfirm!By: Jennifer HandFriends of Share...Mr. and Mrs. Patrick GavinLinda LeindeckerSaint John United Church of ChristMr. and Mrs. Mike MargherioAllan and Patricia DerhalkeMr. and Mrs. Brian KrugBarb ClarkOur three girls-two in our arms andall in our hearts.By: Greta FrazierOC Walk to RememberDr. Charles CorrJonathan's fundBy: Rachel WhitmireMy Forever ChildCorine HollingsworthMetro Detroit Share GroupWalk To Remember- Wakefield, MA7

With GratitudeShare thanks those who have so graciously given these monetary donations in memory of a baby, relative, friend, and in honor of allloved ones and through Matching Gift Programs. Gratuitous donations are also accepted from anyone who wants to help Share in itsmission. We gratefully acknowledge these gifts, which help us continue to reach out and fulfill the daily needs of bereaved parents.Share’s services are available free of charge to bereaved parents, family and friends, or anyone whose life has been touched by the lossof baby.When you make a donation in memory of a/your baby(ies), please include the name(s) of the baby(ies), the birth/death date(s) andthe parents name(s). If you donate in memory/honor of a special loved one, please include their name(s) and pertinent information.A short message may also be included with any donation.Please remember to include your return address and the addresses of those you wish to receive an acknowledgment. Unlesspreviously authorized to do so, Share will not release any personal information, (address, phone number, e-mail, etc.) except to printdonors names in this newsletter. If you wish your name to remain anonymous, please indicate this when submitting your donations.The MissionShare’s mission is to serve those who are touched by the tragic death of a baby through early pregnancy loss, stillbirth or in the firstfew months of life.Six times a year, we share information and ideas from parents and professionals to support and provide a sense of friendship forbereaved parents. We hope you will find this newsletter helpful and that you will share it with others you feel it would interest.We encourage you to send your personal articles, stories, poems, artwork and recipes to our newsletters at any time. Please do notsubmit copied, copyrighted, or web articles. The Newsletter Editor reserves the right to edit your personal submission for contentand/or length to fit the needs of the particular newsletter edition in which it will appear. Your submission may be used for the currentnewsletter, or may be used in a future publication. All submissions become the property of Share.Please include all pertinent personal information so we may identify you and your baby/ies in the respective publication. Yoursubmission grants Share permission to list your personal information with the publication unless instructed otherwise.Newsletter Submission Guidelines:1. Please provide title, authors’ name and applicable loss information for article submissions. If donating monetarily inmemory of a baby, please provide loss information, including the parent’s name(s).2. Submissions must be received no later than the 1st of the month, one month prior to issue month. If you are making adonation and would like to be recognized, or honor a birthday or anniversary, in the most recent edition of the newsletter,then it, must be received by the 10th of the month, two months prior to the publication.3. Please type your submissions in single spaced, 10 point, Times New Roman or Arial font when possible.4. Submissions can be mailed to 402 Jackson, St. Charles, MO 63301, e-mailed to mnichols@nationalshare.org or faxed to636-947-7486..............................................................................................................Sharing Newsletter Information:Sharing Newsletter is published by Share Pregnancy & Infant Loss Support, Inc. Ifyou would like to reprint articles/submissions from Sharing please properly citeShare and the writer by stating the name of the organization, website, newsletter,volume, issue, and author in your acknowledgments. If you would like to reprint anarticle/submission that is copyrighted by an author or a publishing company, youmust obtain permission from the copyright holder to reprint.rcarlson@nationalshare.org.Email questions to............................Would you like to be removedfrom mailing lists?To remove bereaved parents’ names from mailinglists you can visithttp://www.privacyrights.org/fs/fs4-junk.htm#MPS-OR-Send a letter plus a $1 check or money order to:Mail Preference ServiceDirect Marketing AssociationPO Box 643Carmel, NY 10512

Two Sets of TwinsWritten by Jeanna O'LearyMy husband and I experiencedthe deaths of our first-borntwins, David and Allison, inthe winter of 2000. Just 4 months laterwe received the news that not only werewe pregnant, but I was carrying twinsAGAIN! This subsequent pregnancywas not only physically difficult (16weeks on strict bed rest), but it was alsoemotionally difficult. We faced all thosedreaded “firsts” that weigh so heavily ina bereaved parent's heart. Even thoughwe tried to be hopeful and excited forour unborn sons, we deeply grieved forDavid and Allison on all the holidaysand special events we had to facefollowing their deaths. Thankfully inDecember 2001, our beautiful twinsons, Aidan and Grant, were born. Atsix weeks premature, both were healthyand strong and are now nine years old.In the months following our sons'births, I remember questioning andfinding myself overwhelmed with notonly the challenges and demands ofcaring for two newborns, but how andwhen would we tell them about theirolder brother and sister? Would theyever feel a connection to them as part ofour family? From the very beginning,David's and Allison's pictures have beendisplayed in two picture frames in ourhome. We have always used theirnames when we discuss things like theirbirthdays or special programs we attendthrough Share like the Walk forRemembrance and Hope, Angel Ball orthe December 6th Angel of Hopeservices. It was our hope that by talkingabout David and Allison and planningsome our family time around Shareevents, our boys would eventuallybecome aware of their older siblingsand feel comfortable asking questions.It's been interesting over the pastnine years how both of our sons havedeveloped their awareness of David andAllison as members of our family. Theirfirst real questions started around agesfour or five when they looked at thepictures. They began to see physicaldifferences in their own baby picturescompared to David's and Allison's. Iremember they would ask why Davidand Allison were so tiny; why was theirskin so dark (David was born at almost21 weeks; Allison at 23 weeks). Theywould ask to see the clothes andblankets and I realized they werebeginning to make the connection thatDavid and Allison were very real babiesthat their mom and dad held, just likethem. When our boys enteredkindergarten they each had to create afamily tree. I remember Aidan asked ifit was okay to include his older brotherand sister. Grant did not ask or want toinclude David and Allison on his familytree and that was perfectly fine with us.It was our belief that each of our boysshould always have the choice toinclude their siblings when they feltcomfortable. On the other hand, bothof them went through a phase wherethey told EVERYONE they could aboutDavid and Allison. The store cashier,hairdresser, exterminator, and the poorappliance repairman! I will neverforget that “deer in the headlights” lookon his face as Grant so casuallyexplained why his big brother and sisterdid not live in our house. For a while itseemed they were more interested inthe various reactions and attention theyreceived when they talked about theirbrother and sister.My sons are now in 3rd grade andtheir awareness and questions haveagain changed. The questions aboutspecific details and physical traits haveturned into questions like “Do you stillmiss them?” “Did you cry when theydied?” “Do you still get sad?” Many oftheir friends have older siblings and oursons have recently expressed how theywish David was here so he could teachthem things about sports and music likeother big brothers do. Or how theywish Allison was here so they couldtaunt and tease her as do their fellownine year-old friends with their sisters.Weeks may pass before either Aidanor Grant might mention David orAllison's names. But does that meanthey no longer feel love or a connectionto them? Absolutely not! A perfectexample of this just happenedyesterday. Grant came home fromschool and I could tell he wanted toshare something with me, but washesitant. After he put away hisbackpack, he brought me a little piece ofpaper. He said during his computerclass the teacher asked them to create abasic shape and print it on paper. WithValentine's Day this past weekend,Grant created a heart-shaped designand decided to write a valentinemessage to his brother and sister. Themessage said, “Dear David and Allison,I really wish I could see you. If youwere here, I would say HappyValentine's Day. If you were alive itwould be great. Love your brotherGrant.”What a message this was! KnowingGrant remembered his brother andsister on the day of all days to expressyour love or care for someone meantmore than I could say. It's hard attimes to believe 10 years have gone bysince we last saw David and Allison'sfaces and held their tiny hands.Keeping their memory alive in ourfamily is very important to my husbandand me. We have cherished how oursubsequent children have come torecognize and open their hearts to theirolder brother and sister. In 2007, wewelcomed our fifth child, Shane, intothe family. He is now three and I amwaiting for the same questions to startall over. My wish is that as all three ofmy sons grow and mature, their heartswill forever hold a loving bond witheach other and with their big brotherand sister.9

Children's Wisdom Mar/Apr 2011RespectingChildren'sInstincts &AwarenessWritten by Joann O'LearyWhen families experience aperinatal loss older siblingssuffer two losses: the babythey were expecting and the parentsthey knew before the loss. They livewith parents whose behaviors arealtered by intense grief, often at an agewhen they are too young to understandwhat's happening. It is common forparents to think their other children aretoo young to understand. Also, they donot want their children to feel the samegrief the parents do. Even very youngchildren are tuned in to the emotions ofthe significant adults in their lives. Achild's grieve and resiliency in coping,however, can be trusted and shared tothe benefit of the entire family. Manychildren seem to have a spiritualconnection and wisdom we adults oftenoverlook. While I interviewed bereavedparents raising children I have beenstruck by stories of children who seemto possess this knowledge and I sharetwo stores.Grace was three when her mother'spregnancy ended in an earlymiscarriage. She had known about thepregnancy, said right away it was a boyand called him Baby Cabbage. She saidgood morning to him every day andcontinues to refer to him as her brotherin heaven. When her mother becamepregnant again, they decided not to tellGrace until after the twenty weekultrasound. They felt Grace grieved sopainfully and deeply for Baby Cabbagethat they wanted to spare her anothertrauma. It was painful for the parents towatch and they feared another loss forthem all. The day they were preparingto go in for their ultrasound Gracewalked up to her mother and said,"There's another baby in your tummy.I'm going to have a baby sister!" Hermother shared they were going to thedoctor that day and maybe we'll findout it's a boy. When she came home shetold Grace it was a girl and that shecould now tell her friends at school.Grace replied, "Well I already toldthem. I knew I was having a sister." Soin spite of her parents thinking Gracewas unaware they were pregnant shehad already made a connection with hernew sibling's presence in the family.Four months later her little sister wasborn!Keeping the memory alive of adeceased child in the family isimportant not only for the childrenalive at the time but for the childrenwho follow. The Smith family was veryopen about the death of their son Kevinto his siblings who were 18 months andthree years old when he died. Althoughthey did not bring the children to thehospital to see Kevin (something theynow regret) his death was an open topicin the family. The parents allowed themto see their deceased brother's babythings: a little hat, his footprints, andsome of his hair. The family also hadpictures of him in the upstairs hallwayand ornaments for the Christmas treewith his name and birth date. Alongwith these things, the siblings becamememory keepers for Kevin as animportant member of their family. Thishelped the baby who followed, Tony, tobecome a separate individual. They toldTony about his older brother, heldKevin's picture in front of his facebefore he was old enough to sit up.Understanding at a young age that notall babies live, these siblings at agethree and five had a deeper relationshipwith their new baby brother. Theirmother explains, "Tony's life was so realto them. They knew what it meant tonot have a brother living. They weretruly thankful for Tony."Protecting young children from thepain of loss is an understandable desire.Yet these stories illustrate the wisdomchildren have that we often overlook.Parents who are able to communicatetheir thoughts and emotions teach theirchildren that they can trust theirparents to be honest and that they willbe cared for no matter what happens inthe family. It is a valuable gift thatbuilds strong families."The more weshelter childrenfrom everydisappointment,the moredevastating futuredisappointmentswill be."Fred G. Gosman

Always in Our HeartsWritten by Deb WelschClayton came into our family on March24,2003. Actually, he came to us ninemonths earlier. Those were some of themost exciting months for our family of five--realizing we would soon become a family of six.The news that we were expecting our fourth childcame as a shock to my husband and I. You see, ourthree oldest were 9, 13, and 15 years old at the time.We had settled into our family life as it was, andthis was certainly going to stir things up.My pregnancy became our family's pregnancy.We all shared in the preparations for Clayton, evenjoked that he would have five parents. He certainlywas never going to want for love. His birth dayarrived, and we all made our way to the hospital towitness our miracle. Little did we know that by theend of the day our miracle would turn into ourgreatest grief. Clayton was born still.Now our family that prepared for his arrivaltogether would have to learn to help each otherthrough our grief. Of course, as parents, myhusband and I thought it was our job to help ourchildren travel down this road. However, we werenot prepared for how much healing they wouldbring us.Our third child, Josh, had wisdom beyond hisyears. His ability to express his love for his brotherfilled my heart with love. Shortly after Clayton'sfuneral, we were together as a family supportingeach other. During a silence in the conversation,Josh spoke up with this comment: “I will miss himso much because I was really looking forward toraising him." Upon hearing his comment, myheart dropped. Even though it brought tears to myeyes, I also felt very proud of the compassionateboy he had become and knew then that he wouldalways honor the memory of his brother.Lauren, our second child, knew way more thanany 13 year old girl should know about pregnancy.She had read all the books and couldn't wait todress her new brother in all the outfits we hadshopped for. Lauren is also our ultimate optimist,and I can only imagine the shock it was to hersystem to hear we had lost Clayton. How wouldshe recover? When asked to write a letter toClayton, Lauren thanked him for teaching her somuch about life and making her more sympatheticto others. She also thanked him for the time wehad with him and said that she would one day seehim again and would then get to know him better.Always trying to see the bright side, our ultimateoptimist. Lauren will always treasure Clayton'smemory.Our first born, Aaron, is our sentimental child,one who is very quiet with his feelings. In the earlydays after Clayton's death, Aaron wore his emotionson his sleeve. Although it was very hard tosee my child suffering, it was good to hear him talkabout his feelings. As time went on he became lessopen, and I wondered how we would know if hewas remembering his brother? About six yearsafter Clayton's passing, Aaron was in his third yearof college and would miss Clayton's birthday forthe first time. Although I knew this day wouldeventually come, it was hard to not have all of ourchildren home for the day. That night, we got anemail from Aaron. He had commemoratedClayton's birthday his own special way by wearinga shirt he had worn the day Clayton was born.Although it was quite small for him by then, he hadsaved that special shirt. It was his way of honoringhis brother. Yes, he would always carry Clayton'smemory in his heart.In less than 2 months, we will commemorateClayton's eighth birthday. I always plan a littleceremony we hold at his graveside. We won't all betogether this year, but I know we will all be rememberingthe love and excitement we carried with uspreparing for Clayton's arrival. I know we will allbe holding onto the love and strength we carry withus because of our special angel.Children are God's ultimate gift. We thank himfor our four.11

Discussion BoardWhat have the bereaved children in your life said or done thathave made you pause and maybe reconsider your perspective on the loss of your baby?My son who was 3 years old atthe time of our loss says hehas a sister in heaven (wedidn't get to find out what our sweet lilangel was) and talks about BabyPechman all the time, my younger childtalks about having a sister as well. Bothof my boys say that they see their sisterand talk to her all the time. It gives mechills. What little ones can see and wecan't?!?!Le Ann PechmanMy first baby boy passed awayin 2004 and we had oursecond child in 2006. Wehave always taken him to the cemeterywith us. He is 4 now, but when we wasyounger (around 2) he used to alwaystell us he could see Jesus under the oaktree with babies gathered around him.[It] gives me chill bumps to this day. Hetells me all the time he remembersseeing Him there.Kera AblesMy son is 9 and his deceasedbrother (who would be 13)has been a part of his lifesince day one. He understands the loss& pain that I had before he came intoour life - when he signs a card for me hewill make a heart & put a B in themiddle of the heart to include Benjamin- because he does live in our hearts. Imyself often wonder if I would be sooverprotective and what kind of a momI would be if I wasn't a bereaved mom.Robin Spencer-KlimaszewskiMy 3 year old son Calvin saysto everyone that his sisterZara lives in Holy God'shouse. :) Zara died 13 months beforeCalvin was born.Emer HennessyMy daughter was 3. When myson went to Heaven, she was23 months. The secondnight after he passed, she waved in theair and told me to wave because herbrother was there. She would wake upsome mornings and tell me she haddreams with him. One day she wastaking a bath and I asked if she had adream with her brother the night beforeand she said, “Yes, but I can't go wherehe is at. He's very far.” That took beback a little because I have neverspoken to her about Heaven. Anothertime, we went to the cemetery. [As] wewere leaving she told me to stop the carbecause her brother was waving byeand he wanted to give her hug. ♥Johanna LeonzoMy son is 9 now (but was 7when we lost his brotherCaleb). We have a spot in ourback yard with a little bench and a babyin Jesus hand. Our neighbor boy wasgoing to sit on it and I heard my son tellhim "No that's my brother's bench.” Iwas so proud of him and I realized atthat moment he will never forget hislittle brother and always stand up forhim. Caleb had Down Syndrome and Ifeel like he will always have a place inhis heart for children with disabilities.My daughter, who is 5, always callsCaleb “Jesus” and wants to sing “JesusLoves Me.”Elizabeth Chester MayfieldMy daughter is 3 and I lost myson 4 years ago. We havebeen talking a bit about herbrother in Heaven. We have a pencilsketch of him hanging on the wall. Oneevening my niece was over and talkingabout her new baby brother, mydaughter was half asleep on her and satup and yelled, “ I have a brother too,see. He is over there on the wall.” I feltso sad that it is the only connection toher sibling that she will ever have.Jody Perkins-VourgarakisPreparation for this day had beenintense with firsts. We packedher backpack for the first time.We packed the brand new lunchbox forthe first time. And, we walked down thefour short steps readying to walk ourmiddle child to her first day ofKindergarten. We were supposed tohave done this two years ago. Thatopportunity was lost with an exponentiallist of other 'should have dones'when Emma died. It made this day evenmore special.“Wait,” she yelled. As soon as I turned Isaw it too, a flash of color from Emma'sbush. No, it is too soon. The leaves can'tbe red, not yet. They weren't – but onewas. I stood before this early leaf,unable to comprehend, unsure what tothink. And so, I said the words out loud,to make it real, to be sure the otherscould see it too. “Just one red leaf onEmma's bush?” And although mystatement had entirely rhetoricalintentions, Claire answered the questionwith the truest, most honest voiceI've ever heard. “Yeah - Emma came towish me good luck.” Of course she did,of course.Cara TyrellSometimes, children have the bestlessons, the one's with perspective.My oldest son, Mitchell, whoturned five the day before our sweetangel was born, understands it best.After returning home from the hospital,we were sitting around the table eatingdinner, as we have done routinelyhundreds of times. Only this night, myhusband and I were consumed by grief,emotions raw and feeling numb.Mitchell started talking about Kaylabeing home. He named her Kayla afterone of his favorite friends who babysathim, so I assumed he was talking abouther. I said, “Honey, I'm not talkingabout big Kayla, I'm talking about yourbaby sister, Kayla.” And he respondedmatter-of-factly, “I know Mom. BabyKayla is at home in heaven with Jesus.”Lauri Flegel

BrotherhoodWritten by Shaun LammertIn the chill of a November afternoon, the birth of my littlebrother was announced. As the oldest of three childrenand the only son in the family, I had wanted that day tocome for quite some time. I deeply longed for thatbrotherhood bond and the thought of someday having thisnaïve boy look at me in admiration. Expectations saturatedmy mind with how complete my life would be as I served asan inspiring role model for him. Naturally, I was ecstaticwhen I heard about the delivery. I could now partake in thatspecial brother to brother relationship I never before had.However, as I anticipated a wonderful future with him, hesuddenly died just four days after being given his life.Although I did not recognize it at the time, his death wouldchallenge me both to grow as a person and to appreciate thevaluable relationships I share with my family and friends.My mother had been pregnant for seven months andunexpectedly went into labor. The baby was bornprematurely and, at my request, was given the nameChristopher Michael. With the excitement and surprise of mybaby brother being born, I overlooked the fact that he wasstruggling with some medical problems. And when I did askabout his condition, I was repeatedly told that I would notunderstand what was wrong with him and that I should notworry. Christopher's struggle was familiar to me becauseboth Heather and Megan, my younger sisters, had alsoexperienced medical complications after they were born.Knowing they overcame their early struggle with life gave methe hope that Christopher would soon leave the hospital andcome home. Although his condition worsened, I did not wantto give up on my chance for having a brother. I continued totell myself that he would soon regain his strength.Unfortunately, my hopes did not save him.A phone call shattered the early morning's stillness onDecember 4, 1982. When I awoke from the commotion, Iimmediately felt my heart sink for I could sense thedisappointment awaiting me. My grandparents tried to calmme down and send me back to bed, but the anguishovertaking my soul kept me up. In a state of bewilderment, Ifell out of touch with my feelings. An indescribablenumbness suddenly surrounded me. My dream of having alittle brother was crushed, and his death was unjustified andunexplainable. There was to be no naïve little boy looking upto his big brother as a coach in sports, a mentor in school, ora guide in life. All of my plans and intentions were stolenfrom me, and I was left feeling very abandoned and verydeluded. In those brief four days, I was never allowed to seemy brother; I had nothing to remember him by.Being seven at the time, I became a very distraught child.In less than one week, I had been blessed with the brother Ihad always wanted and then had Christopher stripped awayfrom me with no reservation. I felt so betrayed and somehowso responsible that I gradually became intertwined in anendless web of confusion. Needing an answer to explain theunfathomable, many questions developed. Dissatisfied withthe inadequacy of reasoning, I ended up frustrating myselfmore. My mother was still sick in the hospital. Friends andfamily tried to reach out to us by suggesting that they knewwhat we were going through. Although their intentions werecharitable, I loathed each attempt to sugar-coat reality andmake my problems disappear. As I rejected all intercessionsto help, I became overwhelmed with spite and insecurity, for Ino longer knew the world I was in. My childhood had beenparalyzed. My zest for life had been swindled from me, and Ihad done nothing wrong.Christopher's funeral was held and I was finally reunitedwith my mother and father. Being clutched in their embrace,I was touched with their deep regret for feeling that they hadsomehow failed me. As tears rolled off my mother's cheekonto mine, she kept repeating how sorry she was for notbringing Christopher home to me. Here, my mom and dadwere hurting too, and yet they blamed themselves for thedisappointment that my sisters and I felt. Reassuring the twoof them that it was not their fault, I gathered Heather andMegan so we could hold each other as a family. At thatmoment, I knew I was not alone. I had a family to share thiswith – we had all felt a terrible loss.Glaring at his casket in the corner, I was embittered withresentment. This hopeless seven year old hated that hisfamily had been served this much disgrace and pain. Doubtfilled my soul. My faith escaped me. Where was the loving,gracious God I had been taught to believe in? I blamed Himand questioned His motives. The thoughts of what mighthave been were too important to neglect, too real to overlook.I wanted to know why I felt so persecuted and when I wasgoing to move on in life.After twenty-eight years of pondering Christopher's death, Iunderstand more of how to answer the questions asked bythat distraught seven year old boy. Time has provided someof that healing. More significantly, the void of losing mybrother has been filled with a couple of missing pieces to thepuzzle. The first miracle to my healing process has been mysister, Shannon. With her being brought into the world twoyears after Christopher's death, I have been blessed with theresponsibility of being her Godfather. She has allowed me tobe that big brother once again and has always made me feellike I have been an inspiration to her. Shannon taught me tocherish the family I do have and has opened my eyes to howmuch love my family has for each other. The second miraclehas been my fraternity, Sigma Phi Epsilon. As a freshman incollege, I was drawn to join Sig Ep or, maybe better stated,Sig Ep found me. Sigma Phi Epsilon instilled virtue,diligence, and brotherly love into my daily life. I was giventhe chance one hundred times over to identify with thecontinued on page 17...13

Children's Wisdom Mar/Apr 2011Molly & EmilyWritten by Missy GurikOur baby isn't going to live withus.Those were the words that I used toexplain to our daughter that her fiveday old sister was not going to survive."Emily's heart is very sick, and thedoctors can't fix it, even though we wantthem to," I continued.Silence was her only response."Do you understand what I am tellingyou?” I asked.Her tiny body slumped down in myarms, her tiny spirit was defeatedbeyond what any words could describe.No further dialogue was needed, Mollyunderstood exactly what I was tellingher.Emily was our second daughter. Shewas born on August 25, 2003, aftermany long months of waiting. To saythat we were excited about her arrivalwould do no justice to the actualfeelings that we had, but it was our fouryear old daughter who was lookingforward to sharing a life with her sister,more than anything. On the day thatEmily was born, Molly was runningaround the hospital wearing a pink shirtthat read, "I'm the big sister." Emily'sbirth had given us all a scare, but sheappeared to be healthy, and Molly wasunaffected by the drama...all that SHEcared about was that her baby sisterwas here...to play with her. About anhour after Emily's birth, she began toshow signs of distress, which we wouldlater find out was a severe congenitalheart defect that would end her life inonly a few days. Still, nothingdampened Molly's spirits that day...herbaby was here!Almost immediately, our Emily wasshipped to a children's hospital a fewhours away. Molly could not go and bewith her sister, and as I look back now,I can see that this was the beginning ofher pain. For five days, baby Emily livedon life support, waiting for surgery, orwaiting for the miracle of a new heart. Amiracle which would never come. Forthose same five days, Molly sat in thewaiting room of the hospital,anticipating that the doctors wouldcome out and tell her that she couldtake her baby home. Another miraclewhich would never come.Molly held her baby sister while wemade plaster casts of her hands andfeet. Molly gently wiped Emily's handswith a warm wash cloth after we werefinished, and giggled as she commentedthat Emily was dirty because she was"playing in the mud.” Molly hugged herbaby, and gently kissed her cheek. Thenshe turned to me and said "And seemommy, I'm even holding her head likeyou told me to!"When we lose our children, weadmittedly become new people, but oursurviving children also undergo drasticchanges, and are also never thesame as they were before theirloss. There are more hopes andfears, and a lifetime of questioningthe death of their sibling. They areconstantly processing this loss innew ways. Some people talk aboutthe irrational fears of childrenfollowing a loss, but when yoursibling dies, no fears are irrationalanymore. The unimaginable hashappened, and their worstnightmare has become a reality.Molly taught me this lessonalmost immediately.From the very beginning,Molly's fears were very differentthan my own, but it showed howdeeply she was processing herloss. Molly was with us for thecalling hours, funeral, and burial.We explained to her what wasgoing to happen, and then tookher to Emily's grave a few hoursafter the burial, so she could have"closure" on the event. That wasthe beginning of the "new Molly.”Years have passed since that day...the day that all of our lives changedforever. I have watched Molly grow andchange into a person that has incrediblestrength, by anyone's standards, but shecertainly exceeds any expectations Imay have had. I ache for Molly in herquiet moments as she bows her headand says, “I miss my baby sister.” Iwatch Molly as she runs through thepark with excitement, and I am relievedthat she is seemingly unaware of thepain that we have all endured... butinevitably, that evening she will alwaysremind me that Emily should have beenat the park with us that day. Mollykeeps a memory box in her bedroom,filled with pictures of herself and Emily,as well as angel tokens that she hasgathered since Emily's passing. Usuallyit will sit undisturbed on her dresser,but occasionally I find it hiddenunderneath her bed when company iscoming over... "just to keep it safe" shereminds me. I no longer touch it ormove it from where it lays. That isMolly's sacred treasure, and it staysonly where she wants it to.© Christine Schneider/CorbisIn memory of Emily Hope GurikAugust 25th, 2003- August 30th, 2003- Died of Hypoplastic left heartsyndrome, undiagnosed duringpregnancy.

Facing a Lonely PassoverWritten by Ilene SpringerMatzah, the Seder, ancient Egypt.These are some of the thingsthat come to mind when wethink of Passover. But probably the mostpoignant thought is that of family andfriends. For better or worse, what wouldPassover be without sharing it with themost important people in your lives?And yet, every year, some people -- andmost of us eventually -- have to face thefirst Passover without someonesignificant, whether it be a husband, wife,mother, father, or wonderful friend. Andfor those people, it means that thisPassover will be different -- and difficult.This is especially true for older adultswho, according to geriatric researchers,often face accumulated losses. But thereare some things you can do for yourself(or others) to get through a lonelyPassover.Acknowledge the lossDon't expect things to be the same thisPassover if you've lost someone close toyou. Allow yourself to remember how itwas before, and give yourself time togrieve. Don't try to pretend everything isokay for the benefit of others. If possible,do something in the person's memory,such as lighting extra candles. Change thetradition a little. Some people say it'shelpful to sit in the person's place atdinner, so you don't dwell on the emptyspot. Or if you've always held the Seder atyour home, go to someone else's housethis year. Do anything to make it easier.And most important, remind yourselfthat the holiday or your presentcircumstances will not always be like this:pain does lessen over time. Find otherswho share your grief, and support eachother.Make some plansIf you don't have a seder to go to atsomeone's home, check out the manyseders (sedarim) held at various templesand Jewish community centers. It mayeven help you to volunteer at one. Orinvite someone over to your home for aninformal seder; the company and a littletradition is what's important, not a big,elaborate meal.Give yourself some extra TLCAt a time when you're feeling especiallysad, it's important to take extra good careof your physical and emotional health.Keep up your exercise; long walks are theeasiest and best. Eat properly and avoidself-medicating yourself with alcohol orother drugs. And by all means, getenough rest. Grief is a very physicallytaxing process, and you need time torenew your strength. In other words, begood to yourself.Ask for helpIt's normal after a loss to experiencesadness around a holiday like Passoverand on other memorable occasions aswell. But if the sadness persists anddeepens, affecting your functioning, youmay be suffering from clinical depressionwhich requires medical intervention. Ifyou're feeling sad and hopeless for twoweeks straight, if you're having troubleeating and sleeping (too little or toomuch), call your doctor.On Passover, we open the door forElijah. This Passover, when you open thedoor, also let other people into your lifewho can help you during this tough time.Mark your calendar for UpcomingSharing & Caring Training dates!March 4-6, 2011 November 4-6, 2011Please go to www.nationalshare.orgfor a current list of Share groups across the nation.15

Children's Wisdom Mar/Apr 2011ArtSome SayBy Justin MargadonnaSome say you're gone,That I'll never see you or hear you or touch you…Every time I eat an ice cream cone, you'll taste the cold chocolateand brittle jimmies.Every time I watch the Red Sox, you'll be sitting on my kneehearing the Fenway roar and the crack of the bat.Every time I smell fresh fire from a chimney on a winter's night,you'll be huddled next to me in a warm blanket.Every time I listen to the Crows, we'll sing together among thestars, palm trees, and rolling green hills.Every time a great book finds its way into my hands, I'll tell youwhat a wonderful story it is.Every time I pat Sugar and smell her golden fur, she'll know we'reboth there.Every time my toes touch the sand and the smell of salt surrounds,we'll be holding hands.Every time I see the castle buried in fireworks, both of us will befive-years old having the time of our lives.Every time Mommy and I walk down a peaceful path, you'll be inbetween swinging from our arms.Some say…I say.A Child's GoodbyeBy Colleen BerryHooray! A brother or sister for me.A new baby to add to the family.A brother to play ball, a sister and her doll.We will be a happy family.One day, Mom and Dad have tears,I watch them with fear.They give me a hug and kiss,Our baby-to-be they miss.My brother or sister one dayAn angel now has flown away.Our angel we love,Was called by God up above.With Mom and Dad, I too am sad,This is something so bad.Not an angel did we seekBut a person for us to meet.One day when God calls meMy angel sibling I will see.For now I know she is happy to beA member of God's Angel family!

...continued from page 13powerful bond of brotherhood and that can never be takenaway from me. Within the walls of the fraternity, I shareddynamic life experiences and developed life-long friendships.Through grieving I have come to understand that all painfulevents in life have a meaningful purpose – sometimes it justtakes time to figure out what that purpose is.Christopher's grave is marked with the scripture, “I will notforget you…” And I have not. With every course my life hastaken, I have asked him to be with me in thought and prayer.His guidance and support have allowed me to learn and growto be a better person – how ironic that my plans of himalways being able to look to me for direction have beenreversed. I chuckle at that now. He has been my inspirationand maybe that is the simple answer to all of my questions.Re-learning AcceptanceWritten by Megan Lammert NicholsIf you read the previous articlethat Shaun wrote, you shouldhave more than enough informationto understand what happened tomy little brother, but to summarize;our mom got sick, went into prematurelabor, Christopher was bornearly, was sick too and lived just fourdays.I was 2 ½ at the time. My perspectiveis very much skewed by the factthat I have no personal memory of theevents - only "knowing" what I havebeen told by my parents and oldersiblings. It should also be noted thatoutside of the Share community, noone has ever spoken to me of thattime in our family's life - not onerelative or family friend.As a child, it seemed really simple.I had two brothers and two sisters,but one of the former just happenedto not be living. When asked bysomeone, "How many kids are in yourfamily?" I always responded, "Five."Often, the inquisitive person wouldsay, "Wow that's a big family!" Andmy reply would be, "Well, my littlebrother died, so it's not that big." (If Icould have photographs of all thepeople who froze at that moment.) I'dtry to reassure them, "It's okay...it wasa long time ago...he was just ababy,"...etc., etc. As a kid, I felt like Ihad to make these strangers feelbetter about my loss. Not only that,but they made me feel like includingmy little brother in my family wassomehow wrong. In my innocence, Ididn't understand what was soparalyzing for them. I remember thefirst time I excluded Christopher fromthe "kid count." I was a pre-teen andwanted to be accepted and normal. Itbroke my heart not to include him,but no one else I knew had a deadbrother. It was all of a suddencomplicated.From that moment, I was launchedonto the roller coaster of grief –awakened by the passing of my youth.In between the moments of the dailylife of a teenager, I would spendcountless hours looking throughChristopher's well-preserved babybook, full of sympathy cards, trying todiscover who he was. I'd hide in thecloset, crying bucketfuls just because Imissed this little boy who I never gotto meet. I even held a grudge at Godfor taking away an innocent soul. Iwanted Christopher to have a birthdayparty, to go to school with me. Ieven wanted to fight with him. WhenI got older my grief was fueled by thepassing of major life milestones. Hewas supposed to be in my weddingand to play with my kids at family gettogethers.Shortly after my daughters thirdbirthday, she noticed a framed picturein our living room - a copy of thesketch my parents had made ofChristopher from his hospitalPoloroids. The frame had beendisplayed in our home since beforeshe was born.She asked, "Who is that baby,Mommy?""That's your Uncle Christopher," Isaid, wondering where the conversationmay lead.“Uncle Christopher? Where is he?”“He's in our hearts. He died whenhe was a baby.” I replied.“Oh,” she said looking up at me fullof smiles, love and untainted acceptance.And that was it. She never oncequestioned having an uncle that shehad never "met."It was at that moment that Irealized what I had lost – not mybrother, but my openness to hisdeath. It dawned on me that althoughthe anger and brokenness that I hadfelt for so long was necessary, it wasalso important to embrace the roleChristopher had played in my life.His brief life was truly a gift. It taughtme compassion and led me to helpothers who find themselves overwhelmedwith grief. It showed methat life is to be treasured.In the future, I'm sure my daughterwill have more difficult questions, butfor now I treasure that she is contentin her own innocence and that I havefound my way back to acceptance.17

Children's Wisdom Mar/Apr 2011Events Across the NationCaring for the Sorrow ofPregnancy & Infant LossA Conference for the CaregiverWednesday, April 13, 20118:00 a.m. - 4:00 p.m.Allina Commons at Midtown ExchangeMinneapolis, MinnesotaThis conference is designed for nurses, socialworkers, childbirth educators, postnataleducators, doulas, chaplains and other alliedhealth professionals and students who honor,support and serve patients and families whoexperience pregnancy and infant loss.Tuition is $85.00Visit www.nationalshare.org/trainingconferences.htmlfor more download abrochure.TCF's 34th National ConferenceMinneapolis/St. PaulJuly 15-17, 2011Sheraton Bloomington HotelYou will find it to be another great conference with around 100workshops, sharing sessions, special keynote speakers at theOpening, Closing and Friday Afternoon and Saturday Eveningbanquets, Hospitality Room, Butterfly Boutique, ReflectionRoom, a completely stocked bookstore, special Friday eveningentertainment and a Remembrance Candle Lighting. TCF'sWalk to Remember will be held Sunday morning.Reservations are now being accepted at the SheratonBloomington Hotel, Minneapolis South for those planning toattend the TCF's national conference July 15-17.Room rate is $129 per night for a King Room or Double BedRoom, single or double occupancy; $139 for triple and $149for quad. These special reduced rates are available on staysfrom July 10-19 if the reservation is placed by June 21 (subjectto availability). These are specially negotiated rates availableonly for those attending the national conference.In Your Eyes:Caregivers' Role In BereavementPhotographyApril 22, 20119:30 a.m. - 3:30 p.m.Chicago, ILThis well received full day, hands-on immersiveworkshop is for caregivers wanting to improveboth the quality and content of the photographsthey take as part of bereavement support forfamilies experiencing Perinatal Loss.Presented by Todd Hochberg,Visit www.toddhochberg.com/workshop.html formore information.2011 National GatheringMonumental Journeyof the HeartJuly 29-31, 2011Sheraton Reston Hotel,Reston, Virginia / Washington, D.C.Hotel Information:Reston SheratonCall the hotel at (703) 620-9000and tell them you are with theBereaved Parents of the USA or goto www.starwoodmeeting.com/book/bereavedparents. Roomrate is $99 plus tax per night for a double or king size room forup to 4 people per room. The room rate is available from July25th thru August 2nd. Reservations at this rate need to bemade by June 26th, 2011. A free shuttle is available to/fromDulles International Airport. Free parking at the hotel isavailable to those driving to the Gathering.Gathering Cost:Registration for the gathering costs $35 per person, with amaximum of $90 per family. Early registrations receive a$5.00 discount. Any registration postmarked or made onlineby May 31, 2011, costs just $30 per person, with a maximum of$80 per family. Meals will be $145 for adults and $75 forchildren for all seven meals, which includes 3 breakfasts, 2lunches and 2 dinners. An optional dinner buffet will beavailable on Thursday evening prior to the Documentary andConcert for $17.Registration forms and more information will be availablesoon. For more information, contact:Jodi NormanBP/USA NOVA ChapterP.O. Box 7675, Woodbridge, VA 22195703-910-6277

May/Jun 2011Mother's Day &Father's DayDeadline: April 15Share joins the blogoshpere! Check it out at nationalshare.blogspot.comGet the newsletter deliveredto your inbox today!In an effort to reduce our carbon footprint, we have decided to make the newsletteravailable online. If you would like to receive a copy via email, we would be happyto add you to our mailing list. Please see the link below to subscribe today!http://nationalshare.org/subscribe.htmlConnect with us and otherbereaved families on Facebook!Search us on Facebook! To connect with other parentsand share your story, search: National Share Office. Forupdates and information about Share events, perinatalloss research, updates on legislation and much more,search: Share Pregnancy & Infant Loss Support, Inc.Looking for Resources?Check out our Perinatal Bereavement Resource Catalog! It's full of books, pamphletsand other wonderful resources suited for bereaved parents and their families as well asbereavement professionals. Start a Share group and receive a 20% discount on everyorder! Find our catalog online at http://nationalshare.org/online-catalog.html todownload a printed copy of the catalog or to place an order online.Some parents find that honoringdays like Mother’s and Father’sDay can be challenging. Pleaseshare ways you have found hopethrough these holidays. Have youreceived something unique, givensomething special, honored a newtradition, taken a vacation, ortaken a break from these days?Share your story, poem, orcreative expression for Mother’sand Father’s Day.Jul/Aug 2011Parenting Aftera LossSubmit your stories, poems,recipes, and artwork to:rcarlson@nationalshare.orgWe encourage you to share yourthoughts, feelings, ideas, poems,recipes, artwork and stories nomatter what the designated topic.Your input is important to thecreation of each newsletter.National Share Office402 JacksonSt. Charles, MO 63301Phone: 800-821-6819Fax: 636-947-7486www.nationalshare.orginfo@nationalshare.org19

Please join us forSunset overthe SavannahNinth Annual Angel BallSaturday, April 16, 2011Saint Charles Convention Center Saint Charles, MissouriFor reservations, please call 800-821-6819.