Mila's Mission

Today we will be donating the gifts we bought in Mila's name to Prism. As I gathered the items in a gift bag, my heart ached as I wish I could wrap them up to give to my baby. As I wrapped other Christmas gifts last night I so wanted to include Mila's name on the gift tag. 

From: Chris, Laura, Charlie, Sofie, and Mila  

Chris and I agreed that it would kind of look weird. Although I feel like I carry her just like I did when I was pregnant, to the rest of the world, she's gone. I already sound pretty sad much of the time. What would people think if I started pretending my baby was here?

 I've been reading a lot about what happens to our souls and our spirit when we die. I read that when a soul's purpose has been fulfilled, it leaves this earth. Is it possible that Mila fulfilled her purpose on earth in just nine short months? To be honest, I can think of dozens of good things that came out of Mila's death and my illness. I also read that a soul or spirit stays with her family to continue this purpose, or to guide her loved ones towards their own soul's purpose. Maybe this sounds a little out there, a little Twilight Zoneish, but I love the idea. So, back to the gifts from Mila. I've been wondering what to do with all of this grief, energy, and desire to have Mila be present in every part of our lives. We can give to a little girl Mila's age each Christmas, but why stop there? What if everyone who knows us, and knew about Mila did one good thing, one random act of kindness in honor of Mila. It could be as simple as holding the door open for the mom with the stroller or purchasing a gift for a child in need. I don't expect this to turn into a world-wide project or anything, but just a way that we can all honor sweet Mila, and extend our love for her into the world. 

If you do decided to fulfill 'Mila's Mission', please let me know. I'd love to share with my family what others have done in the name of our precious angel. Please email me at lauramdumont@gmail.com, or post in the comment section here. Mila can't be here in the physical sense, but her spirit lives in me, and hopefully in all of you.

angel

I haven't blogged in a while, not that I didn't want to, but I didn't have words. Or, I had so many words. I wasn't sure what to share or where to begin. The holiday season has me overwhelmed. I'm overwhelmed by grief, by to do lists, by events, by my children's joy and excitement, and by the expectation that I should be happy, grateful, and reflective. I miss Mila. Everything, and I mean everything, reminds me of her, reminds me that she's not here. The bottle brush I use to clean my Nalgene bottle, the lanolin I put on my chapped lips, the car, the closet, the sky, the snow, the kitchen chairs, everything. I haven't pulled out all of my Christmas decorations. I'm too tired, and I don't really care. Mostly, I'm afraid to dig through all the bags and boxes. What if I discover an ornament or keepsake bought last year for the baby? God, my heart is heavy. I didn't want to decorate the tree, but I did. It was a joyful experience with Charlie and Sofie. We looked at all of their ornaments and talked about where they came from. It brought back a lot of wonderful memories of life before Mila, before our baby died. We bought a picture frame ornament for Mila's picture with her name engraved. I then placed angel ornaments all around my sweet baby. Last week we made Mila Cookies, sugar cookies in the shape of an angel, with pink and silver sprinkles. This will be a yearly tradition at our house.

I didn't want it to happen, but I think this experience is turning me into a Christian. Yes, I already was one, but now I think I'm so desperate for comfort, for miracles, and for grace, that I am turning to God, and to Jesus. I really just wanted to hate those guys, to turn my back on religion and faith. Praying that my baby be born safe, alive, and healthy didn't work this time and I'm really pissed. But like I said, I ache with sorrow and I don't think there are enough hugs on earth to make me feel better. So, I am turning upward. I am starting to believe in angels, that Mila is an angel, and that if I am spiritually tuned in, maybe I'll see her. I just want to see her. I asked Chris the other day if he's ever had a dream about Mila. He said he hadn't, but that he wishes he would. I prayed that day that Mila would visit him in a dream. A few days later, she did.

Maybe it's because after a child dies, bereaved parents and family members are thrown into this world of support groups, prayer chains, and memorials, but I've been given many opportunities to worship, to sing, and to pray for God's comfort, healing, and grace. I've heard Bible verses that are undeniably helpful. I've wept hearing them, wondering if God really does know how devastated I feel. None of this is what I expected or wanted, but it's happening. I am now craving inspiration, divine wisdom and guidance. People told me that this experience would change me and it has. It is stripping me of everything I thought I had, of my protective layer of nice, easy going, and considerate. I feel shoved into a world I didn't want to live in, and here I am.