Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month: Honoring My Niece, Sawyer Marie

Trigger Warning: This piece discusses stillbirth.

She was born and buried on the cusp of spring and summer. The days had a soft warmth to them, and I would later write (and read aloud at her funeral) about feeling her presence in that gentle June breeze. I feel her now, three years later, not only in the early glow of summer, but as each season fades to the next. Time moving on without her here with us.

Sawyer Marie was born sleeping in June 2016 into a room full of the deepest kind of love. The details of my sister’s labor and the birth of Sawyer are not mine to share; they belong to my sister, my dearest friend, whose bravery, courage, and resilience know no match. My story begins in the “after” Sawyer – a tender reality where everything is different. Where people look the same but are cloaked in grief and sadness and confusion. Where my role as big sister is no longer synonymous with protector or problem solver or safety. Where there is no Sawyer, just memories of her tiny fingers and perfect lips.

This new reality doesn’t fit me very well.

I am a person who struggles to know what to say or what kind of help to offer when someone experiences an unbelievable loss; in this case, the most unbelievable loss. I need my sister to know I think of Sawyer every day; I want her to feel that my love for her daughter, my sweet niece, is everlasting. And I need her to see that I am always in her corner, forever standing next to her as she carries her grief, wishing there was a way to lighten her load.

But how? How do I make her feel these things? I ask myself this all the time.

I see a similar question asked often in the online mom groups I am in. “My friend lost her baby; how can I support her?” I won’t pretend to know the answer, I am still new to this myself and there is certainly no one-size-fits-all response when it comes to providing support.

I have come to understand, however, that while gift cards and casseroles and a clean house are wonderful, grief is lifelong, and my sister needs my support for the same amount of time.

Since October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I am sharing a few of the ways I have honored my niece and my sister over the last few years in hopes that it helps the next person struggling to know what to say or do.

I talk about Sawyer often – with my sister, with my kids, with others. I say her name and share memories. I always recognize that my sister has two daughters.

I encourage my sister to talk about Sawyer and tell her story about her loss. And I listen.

I tell my sister when I am thinking of Sawyer or when something reminds me of her. I send a quick text letting my sister know Sawyer was on my mind.

I gift my sister unexpected items that remind me of her bravery or journey with loss. Sometimes it is a book, or art work, or a trinket of some kind that represents her as a woman and mother and warrior.

I ask how my sister is doing, feeling, and what she needs.

I acknowledge my sister’s grief. I acknowledge the gravity of her loss. I acknowledge her strength.

I celebrate Sawyer’s birthday. I show up and I make sure there is cake.

I send my sister an ornament each Christmas that reminds me of Sawyer. I started this tradition to help with my own grief and it is now a fun way to include my children in choosing a Christmas gift for their cousin.

I have a tree planted in Sawyer’s memory in my backyard. It has a beautiful stone etched with her name nearby and blooms purple in early summer. It is next to my kids’ playground so that Sawyer is always close to them when they play.

I mourn Sawyer’s death as an aunt, as a sister, as a best friend, and as a mother and I try to offer support from each of those perspectives.

These are efforts that have worked for me – not everyone will need the same kind of support.

I’m still learning and would love to hear other ideas – what has helped you through loss? What advice would you offer to people who want to help but aren’t sure how?

Photo courtesy of Deidrah Sturman. Sawyer Marie Sturman, June 2016.