Anastasia Frey Iragui

We buried her in the North Woods of Central Park, near our home. We named her Anastasia Frey: Anastasia for “resurrection” and Frey for the Norse god of fertility.

She was buried in the box which held our wedding bands–glossy brown and topped with a bow–which looks like an expensive box of chocolates. She was wrapped in an embroidered linen napkin. Also in the box was white, heart-shaped piece of coral from the shore of Oahu (where her father is from) and a smooth round piece of black basalt from the shore of Arch Cape, Oregon–picked up this summer when she was conceived.

I wrote this quote on the inside:

“The seed of God is in us. A pear seed will grow into a pear tree, a hazel seed will grow into a hazel tree, and a God-seed will grow into God.”
–Meister Eckhart

My husband wrote: “love, your father”

We buried her under a tree. I placed a white, round stone from the coast of Rhode Island on her little grave, marked with her initials and a heart.

Then we sang the Easter resurrection song, “Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.”

Naming the Child on NY Times.com

Naming the Child

By STEVEN D. LEVITT

My son Andrew died exactly ten years ago today, October 23, 1999, nine days after his first birthday. No one would describe me as emotional. And yet the wound still remains remarkably raw.

Andrew’s short life isn’t a frequent conversation any more, except inside our family, because there is nothing new to talk about. When parents talk about children, it is almost always about how they are changing. Andrew, however, is forever our one-year-old.

Unfortunately for me, memories seem to fade faster than the sense of loss. For my wife, neither the memories nor the pain have faded. I know my wife’s memories remain vivid because they are beautifully captured in a recent book by Jenny Schroedel called Naming the Child: Hope-filled Reflections on Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Death. In the book, she recounts the experiences of a number of families who suffered losses like ours. Reading the book, I am amazed at all the things I have forgotten about both Andrew’s life and death.

To read the full post click here:

http://freakonomics.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/23/naming-the-child/

99 Balloons

Anastasia Frey

We buried her in the North Woods of Central Park, near our home. We named her Anastasia Frey: Anastasia for “resurrection” and Frey for the Norse god of fertility. She was buried in the box which held our wedding bands, wrapped in a linen napkin. I wrote this quote on the inside: “The seed of God is in us. A pear seed will grow into a pear tree, a hazel seed will grow into a hazel tree, and a God-seed will grow into God.”
–Meister Eckhart

My husband wrote: “love, your father”

We buried her under a tree. I placed a white, round stone from the coast of Rhode Island on her little grave, marked with her initials and a heart.

Then we sang the Easter resurrection song, “Christ is risen from the dead, trampling down death by death, and upon those in the tombs bestowing life.”

St. Nicholas Children’s Cemetery

A cemetery for children at St. Nicholas Orthodox Church in Portland, Oregon.

Community

One by one
every woman I know
approaches me
carrying words

it happened to me
my mother
my sister
my best friend

four times in a row
before the baby came
once, before
I even knew

three times
over six years
and then children
healthy and perfect

just keep breathing
in and out
around the stone
you’ve swallowed

I’ve been there
I am holding you
you won’t feel this way
always

— Rachel Barenblat. Visit her blog, the Velveteen Rabbi, to hear her story, and also to find out how to obtain a free download of her exquisite collection of poetry about her miscarriage,Through.

WordArt Collaboration for Name the Child

Dramatic reading of a poem about miscarriage and stillbirth remembered and written by Kirstin Lukes, Editing, original music, WordArt Story, and narration by Jennifer Bluhm.

Letter to Lucy

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Molly Sabourin, author of the Ancient Faith Radio podcast “Close to Home” reflects on the process of naming her daughter, Lucy, who died in the womb.

(View in context on Ancient Faith Radio)

Interview with the Author

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Bobby Maddex interviews Jenny Schroedel, author of Naming the Child.
(View in context on Ancient Faith Radio)

Dear Griffin

 

March 2001, the 17th

Griffin,

It’s a cold, snow-covered day in your grove as we anticipate spring and the first shoots from the bulbs we planted around your fruit trees. Today was your due date. My heart is so heavy with the sorrow of your loss. The sadness seems so fresh all over again.

I am so sorry we will never know you this side of heaven. I am so sorry and wish I knew why you had to go away so quickly. I do so wish you could have joined us here!

Harrison is getting big, growing so quickly. He loves little babies. I know he would have loved you! As he matures, I’ll share this book with him and the story of you.

Today is St. Patrick’s Day, an annual holiday we celebrate in honor of the Irish relatives on both sides of our family. It will also be an annual reminder of your birthday. Even though we didn’t get to celebrate it here, it will serve to heighten our anticipation of meeting you in the world to come.

The corned beef is stewing — filling our home with the scents of generations past. So many things about this holiday — the subtlety, the links with the past — will forever tie me to you. You will not be forgotten.

I can’t explain it, but I love you. You will always hold a special place in my heart.

Love,

Mommy

Here’s one of the original apples from the original trees. We had “Griffin’s grapes” the first year, because they were so small. But the second year, we had enough of a harvest to bake an apple pie. It was a family affair.

Here is the book I made for him. For the first several years after he died, Steve and I journaled in it on St. Patrick’s day, the day he would have been born.

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