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Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.

Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.

for one and all > On the Occasion of Saying Kaddish for my Dear Son Ezra

To my dear son Ezra.

For nearly eight months my belly was your home;
Our little “E” as you were known;
Your full name a secret to all but us;
We planned to announce your birth with such great fuss.

Your daddy and I took such pride;
As my body swelled and grew so wide.
Each night daddy rubbed my feet;
As we dreamed of the day when we would meet.

Our dear son Ezra.

As the weeks progressed, you made quite a din;
With kicks, punches and stretches from within.
Your daddy and I watched my stomach ripple and move;
It was just your way of showing you have groove.

Do you remember the time you kicked Daddy in the head?
He had leaned close to my belly to see if you’d heard what he said.
Thump! You got him in the ear;
It was one of those moments we both hold dear.

A memory of our dear son Ezra.

We’d dream and dream of what the future would hold;
Expecting the mark you’d leave on the world would be bold.
Columbia or Harvard Class of 2031?
We’d lie to each other about not caring which one.

Ezra Malik Katz Love -- such a great big name;
Because we anticipated accomplishments and fame.
How could a ‘helping king’ not be a social justice leader?
We never imagined you wouldn’t be here…

My dear son Ezra.

So now as we recite the Kaddish in your memory each night;
The words of the prayer stick in my throat so tight.
How many times have I said this prayer for the dead?
But I just cannot stand the prayer being read.

Ezra, I never expected to say Kaddish for you;
I just want you here to hold and rock and coo.
Daddy and I just want you know;
That we miss you terribly and love you so.
September 9, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterHis Mommy, Sarah
Beautiful. Unbelievable the things we now find ourselves doing.

(And I'm going to go with Columbia, and imagine he would've met my sweet Maddy there.)
September 9, 2008 | Registered Commentertash
This is so, so, so moving and beautiful, Sarah.
Thank you so much for sharing. And hugs to you.
September 9, 2008 | Registered Commenterjanis
it will be 2 weeks tomorrow since ezra died. i thought it was supposed to get easier day by day, but it feels like its getting harder.
September 11, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterSarah
Sarah, that's a pretty big myth that sadly you might want to throw out now. Grief, as many have come to learn, is not linear -- it doesn't get better, better, better, fine. It speeds up, slows down, darts down an alley and gets stuck for a while, makes a u-turn and heads backwards, jumps on the freeway for a few miles, etc. You'll be amazed some days at how much better you feel, only to find yourself sobbing two days later.

I don't say this to depress you, but to let you know it's completely normal. And eventually, I swear, it gets easier living with. The functioning part. The hurting, missing part takes a long time to heal, but it will come too.

Two weeks is a mere few seconds, everything is still so fresh and raw. Please, please be kind to yourself and let yourself feel as miserable as you are. One foot in front of the other. Keep writing if it helps. (Frankly, I'm amazed you're here reading and writing -- it took me six months to find my way online and confident enough to put some of my grief into words.) Thinking of you, Sarah, and sweet Ezra too.
September 11, 2008 | Registered Commentertash
Sarah, tash said what I wanted to say... and I just wanted to add that I'm thinking of you and Ezra tonight, and sending love and understanding.
xoxo
September 13, 2008 | Registered Commenterglow in the woods
Thank Tash, for putting words to exactly what I'm feeling. I showed your post to my husband and he agreed...we both feel like we're on some kind of schizophrenic rollercoaster ride.
September 16, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterSarah
Sarah, I just wanted to say that I'm so sorry for your loss. I agree with Tash, this grief thing is not linear at all. It's a f*cking roller coaster. Hopefully in a few days you'll have some hours that are not so bad, then days, and weeks. I'm on a down cycle right now, almost 9 months out.

When people say "how are you?" I alternate between saying "Hanging in there" and "Some days are better than others." That's how I've experienced it, anyway.

You are in my thoughts. Hoping the hours and days get a little easier soon.

STE
September 18, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterSTE