Suburban women walk to remember loved ones
Each weekend thousands of people take to the streets of our communities, walking and running to raise money for charities. Every one of them has found a cause to believe in, a bit of hope through helping. And every one of them has a reason for being there.
For those in A Walk to Remember, their reasons are tiny the tiny hand that held their finger for too few minutes, the tiny lungs that weren't yet ready to breathe, the tiny baby they can hold only in their hearts and their memories.
A Walk to Remember honors the babies lost to miscarriage, stillbirth and early infant death. It gives their parents a time to grieve, to feel support and to look for hope.
The walk, which steps off at 10:30 a.m. Saturday, Oct. 16, in Naperville, carries the theme “Hope Grows, connecting the walk to the Wings of Hope Angel Garden at Edward Hospital in Naperville. The garden, honoring babies lost, is open year-round for remembrance and reflection. Proceeds from the walk support the garden, which was dedicated in June, as well as the hospital's SHARE program, a support group for families that have suffered the death of an infant.
Today, three women share their stories in their own words of loss, of finding a community of support and of looking toward tomorrow without forgetting yesterday.
Nicole Jurjovec, Naperville
It has been just more than one full year since I lost my daughter, Grace Angeline Jurjovec, but I remember the moment like it happened yesterday.
Grace lived just over seven hours. She was born alive at 28 weeks gestation, and initial signs of survival were optimistic. After she was ventilated and stabilized, we got to meet her and she squeezed my finger a moment I will hold in my heart forever.
We were cautioned that the first 24 hours of a preemie's life are the most critical. Ultimately, Grace's lungs weren't strong enough to survive and we lost her the same day we were blessed with her.
Our angel, Grace, began her life with an uphill climb, as she fell victim to a very complicated pregnancy. I was diagnosed with a blood clot, causing placenta abruption very early, which in turn caused my water to break at 16 weeks. I was on bed rest for three and a half months and spent some of that time in the hospital.
Babies need amniotic fluid to grow their lungs and practice their breathing and without that fluid, it is hard for them to survive. Unfortunately, Grace never got that fluid because the sac was torn.
We never gave up though. Grace and I with the love and support of her daddy, big brother, family and friends fought hard until the end. I wish I could still feel her kicking, moving and breathing inside me. I wish I could have kept her safe. Losing a baby, one that you carried with you for seven months, is an unspeakable pain. A part of me went with her and now, I not only believe in angels, I have one of my own.
Coping with the loss is very challenging. It is an indescribable feeling not being able to trust the world. The world had never let me down in such a significant way before. Sure, I had some normal hardships in my life, but nothing like this.
I now know that unfortunately sad things can happen to all kinds of people and nothing is guaranteed in your life. Each day is truly a precious gift and you need to make the most of it in the time you are given. I have an immense appreciation for life and the miracle of birth like never before.
Even after all of that suffering, I feel that I have emerged as an even stronger person. I am a survivor. I have survived the worst year of my life and I would not have survived without the love and constant support of my husband, my spirited 3-year-old son, amazing friends, a cousin who also lost a baby, and my incredible family. I live to be the best mother I can be for my children here with me and my daughter in heaven. I feel her presence in my life daily and it keeps me going.
I think doing the walk helping on the committee, and meeting other women and families who have experienced the loss of a baby validates my feelings of grief, honors Grace, and helps me heal. It can be terrifying being in a room full of other mothers who have all lost babies, but it is also comforting to feel a part of a group that none of us asked to join.
We are not alone, for we are all the mothers of very special angels who are always with us.
Holly Poss, Aurora
A pregnant woman is often warned to expect a loss of identity as her first child enters the world. All focus shifts from mother to baby long before birth and, rather than being called by her name, “So-and-so's Mommy becomes her spoken title.
In 2008 I was thrilled to finally be pregnant with my first child, Gregory, a perfect and healthy son. After dealing with infertility, I was more than eager to toss my identity out the window in exchange for a sweet someone to call my own. However, on Sept. 12 of that year, when my baby died and was born still, I realized I was prepared for the wrong kind of identity loss.
It is Gregory's name that, though often on my lips, is rarely (if ever) uttered from the people who would have been in his daily life. It is Gregory's photo collection that, though often looked at by me, will never grow to more than a handful of pictures. It is Gregory's life that, though often in my dreams, will never expand or unfold. I will not watch him take his first steps. I will not kiss him goodbye on his first day of school. I will not sit at his high school baseball games. And though I am his mother, I will not get the privilege to wear that title out.
Through Gregory's loss, I became a different person myself. I unwillingly joined a group of heartbroken, childless parents and grieved like I never thought possible. I didn't know or care how people were referring to me anymore, but I imagine my description included the words broken, bitter, angry, devastated and hopeless. It took a lot of time, patience from my family and friends, and the recent birth of a healthy daughter for me to accept my loss and learn to smile again.
The tears come less frequently and the weight on my heart feels lighter, but I also realize that as each day seems easier to live than the last, it is also one more day separating me from the only time I ever held my son. The hospital smell on the blanket he was wrapped in is fading, as are the details and painful minute-to-minute memories of the night he was born. It is important for me to do as much as I can to honor Gregory and keep his memory alive, because these are the only opportunities I have to parent him.
This will be my third year participating in Naperville's A Walk to Remember. It is a time for grieving families to come together to pay tribute to the babies we hold in our hearts instead of our arms. It gives us a day to forget about the rest of life, as it continues to move on, and shift the spotlight to the babies who once had every second of our attention and focus.
Specifically, it gives my family a chance to gather and remember the little boy who is missing. It helps to know others support my husband and me, but also that they have not forgotten their grandson, nephew and cousin. Even more specifically, it gives me the extremely rare opportunity to reclaim my identity. I will always appreciate the chance to participate in an event where I am known only as “Gregory's Mommy.
Catherine Barrow, Palatine
My husband and I lost our son, Daniel, at 20 weeks of pregnancy in late July 2009. Our baby was much wanted and loved; while we had not yet met our darling boy, he was more than an idea to us he was our son and we had many hopes and dreams for his future in our family.
Devastated and overwhelmed with grief, I joined an Internet board for support. On that board, someone shared information on the Edward Hospital SHARE Program's A Walk to Remember, which is held each October in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
Friends and family members joined my husband and me and we attended what turned out to be a tremendously comforting memorial service for a lot of families just like us.
A Walk to Remember offered acknowledgment of Daniel's life and death, and recognized our pain in losing him. It also offered my family and friends a way to grieve, to support us, and to remember our son, too; and to help me realize that Daniel would not be forgotten. That recognition of our son and the impact his life has had on us offered me much solace in my mourning.
Losing a beloved baby is terribly isolating; people who haven't experienced this type of loss can have a difficult time understanding the resulting grief not only its intensity, but its duration. A Walk to Remember helped me see that I was not alone and the monthly support group allowed me to connect with a community who understands the emotional roller coaster a loss like this can cause. Having other parents to talk to has made the sorrow much easier to endure.
The walk also offered me hope and courage for the future. Many of the other families who attended had gone on to conceive again. After losing Daniel, it was daunting, even scary, to contemplate having another baby. Having been on the wrong side of statistics once, it is difficult to imagine yourself on the right side. These families left me impressed with their bravery. Would I find my own strength to move forward? Seeing those families at the walk offered me that hope; I am so grateful.
One year later, my husband and I will again be walking to remember our son, Daniel and this time we will bring our newborn daughter, Mary. Our community will gather to grieve for our lost babies, recognize the impact they have had on our lives, and (I hope) offer others the courage to move forward.
A Walk to Remember details
<p>What: Proceeds support the Wings of Hope Angel Garden at Edward Hospital and the hospital's SHARE program, a support group for families touched by miscarriage, stillbirth and early infant death</p>
<p>When: Registration at 8:15 a.m. Saturday, Oct. 16; memorial service at 9:30 a.m.; walk begins at 10:15 a.m.</p>
<p>Where: Riverwalk Grand Pavilion, west of Centennial Beach, 500 W. Jackson Ave., Naperville</p>
<p>Cost: Donations accepted</p>
<p>Info: <a href="http://napervillewalktoremember.org">Walk Web site</a></p>