Tag Archives: miscarriage

She soars

11 Mar

I got some sad news today from a friend who got pregnant right around the time I had my miscarriage. She helped me a lot through that tough time because I felt I could share all my sadness with her; it was also therapeutic to focus on her happy news and excitement. Unfortunately, today she found out that she lost her baby. She’s devastated and I can’t even begin to say how sad I am for her and for her whole family.

It reminded me about a post I’ve been mulling over for some time but haven’t written, the one with the song I wrote to help me process my miscarriage. I think this is it.

Back in January, I was using Google Images to find a picture of a GT snow racer and ended up on a blog post that was several years old. The blog had been started by a woman who was expecting her first child. After reading a few of the old entries, I clicked on the masthead to see the most recent post. The most recent post was a year old and linked to the writer’s new blog, but the one right before it told the story of her daughter Ava’s birth. It was a heartbreaking read because Ava died only 7 hours after she was born.

I clicked over to the new blog and — happily! — was greeted by a picture of a gorgeous one-year-old boy. Karla still blogs, and many of her posts are about her beautiful son Nate. That blog is now one of my regular reads.

In exploring the blog, I found a poem that Karla had written for Ava, which she entitled “She Soars“. I’d been wanting to create something to honour the little baby we never got to meet, but I wanted it to be hopeful rather than depressing. Karla’s poem was exactly what I needed to experience. I started out thinking I’d set Karla’s poem to music, but my laptop died and I couldn’t get back on the web, so instead I wrote some new words based on the idea she had given me.

Michael took this recording for a me a couple of weeks ago and I wasn’t entirely happy with the take, but the camera batteries were dying and now he’s out of town, so I guess I’ll live with it. The video quality is lousy because I compressed it so much (slow Internet connection from my oooold computer) but I kinda like the underwater effect, don’t you?

This song is dedicated to Karla, Ava, Stacie, Bobbi, Amanda, Heather, and all of our little angels.

(Here’s a direct link to the YouTube page in case the embedded file doesn’t work for you: http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=qIxhrAgeHyo)

She Soars

You can float, you can fly
To the heavens so high
Still you will never fly too far from me
You can sing, you can sigh
But you’ll never have to cry
As my love holds you up like a boat on the sea

You can laugh, you can love
As you watch from up above
You will never have this weight to drag you down
You are pure, you are free
You are all that you can be
And my music holds you up on a river of sound

Soar so high
You’re still mine
Tears for you are true
She soars so high
On wings divine
You’re in my heart
So fly, soar so high

You’re a hope, you’re a dream
You’re the one who’s never been
To a place where hurt and pain can bend you low
Like a spark, like a star
I love everything you are
So soar, my little angel, I’m letting you go

Soar so high
You’re still mine
Tears for you are true
Yes, she soars so high
I’m so glad that you can fly
You are in my heart
So fly, now soar so high

— January 9, 2008

Copyright © Fawn Fritzen, 2008

Just don’t ask

4 Mar

“Are you planning to have kids?” 
“When are you planning to have another?”

Do these seem like a highly personal questions to you?  They didn’t seem so to me a few years ago, but now I have a different perspective.

Now, y’all know that I’m not the most secretive gal.  It’s not just the blogging, I’m like this in person, too; when I meet another chatty extrovert like me, we can have our life stories out within 20 minutes of meeting (and yet keep gabbing for days).  So a question like this, meant to encourage small-talk, would not have given me a second thought in the past.

Since the miscarriage, though, I have a dilemma.  Do I simply say, “Yes, we’d like more children,” and feel that I am lying by not telling you the pertinent fact that by rights I ought to be pregnant this very moment?  Or do I say, “Actually, I had a miscarriage recently” and make you feel terrible for asking the question, which you suddenly realize must be one that is pretty emotional for me.  I’ve gone both ways on this one, depending on how charitable I’m feeling.  (Or just because I felt like sharing.  Or not.)

But it’s not just about me.

Some time ago, I was in a restaurant with a couple of friends who had been trying to get pregnant for years.  They were in the throes of deciding whether to attempt the physically and financially demanding process of IVF.  An acquaintance they hadn’t seen in years wandered in and they briefly caught up on each others’ lives, before the guy dropped the bomb.  “So, you guys don’t have any kids yet?” he boomed.  “You ought to have some by now!”

It’s unfortunate that he was particularly insensitive in how he put it, but even if he’d asked simply, still I would have the same reaction, which was to cringe inwardly, knowing the bitterness and pain the question no doubt induced in my friends.

So, no matter if I am burning with curiosity, I would never ask this question of anyone unless I was starting to get to know them pretty well.  (And with a chatty extrovert, that can happen pretty fast.  Well, a chatty girl extrovert, anyway.)

What do you think?  Have you been in this situation?  Are there any other seemingly innocent questions you would add to the “Just don’t ask” list?