We received an invitation from the hospital where I delivered our daughter to attend a butterfly ceremony. The hospital has a memory garden that honors the children who are no longer with us. I spent a lot of time debating if I should attend this event. I don’t know yet where I stand a lot of times emotionally when it comes to my loss, so it takes me a long time to make strenuous decisions. The Tuesday before the ceremony, I attended my pregnancy/infant loss support group to hear everyone else’s view on memorials and the butterfly ceremony.

I am not the biggest fan of memorials. I hate them! They fucking suck! I don’t want to release balloons or go to ceremonies! I want to be at home taking care of my daughter.

Maybe one day I’ll appreciate these memorials and honor them as a celebration instead-but stage #2 of grief (anger) is where I am at these moments.

One of the girls said to think of the ceremony as being celebrated as a Mom for one specific day. To have her name spoken out loud and to continue building her identity. This might be the only day during the year where everyone comes together and understands precisely how we feel, and this might be the only event you attend where people won’t have any ignorant remarks or questions.

April 24th, we arrived at the ceremony. We went to check-in, and I noticed the list was two pages of way too many babies’ names, and our baby was one of them. We found a seat in the garden and were surrounded by families who felt the same, and you could feel the presence of sorrow.

The ceremony was short and lovely.
I want to share a poem that was read. That maybe a lot of us can relate to.

“Fingerprints” by Tom Krause
Your fingerprints are on my heart.
Fingerprints that teach me about caring.
Fingerprints that teach me about love.
Fingerprints that teach me about courage.
Fingerprints that teach me about hope.
Fingerprints that bring me closer to my loved ones.
Fingerprints that bring me closer to myself.
In the time I cared for you my whole life changed –
never to be the same again
All this from tiny fingerprints that touch my heart.
You will live in my heart forever – never to be forgotten.
I will always love you.
You are my child.

After each child’s name was called, we were given a rose and a pendant. I jumped when they called her name, I looked at my husband, and we both stood up. Parents to our baby girl, we are proud to call her our daughter, and we love her more than we can express.

I was glad that we attended the ceremony but mainly proud of both of us for being able to support each other during these challenging moments. So please, if you feel like are you going through this alone, we are here for you. Our community is exceptionally loving and understanding, and we wouldn’t want anyone to go through this alone.