Goodbye Baby Chip

A personal account of a miscarriage that I have written to help me come to terms with my loss and also to act as a record of a fleeting life.
On Friday 26^th April, we discovered that I was five weeks pregnant. We were overjoyed and a little awed at the prospect of welcoming a new member into our little family. All the signs over the next few weeks were of a normal healthy pregnancy and it was becoming increasingly tricky to disguise my growing bump. Little did we know that seven weeks later I would start to miscarry when a scan revealed that the baby did not have a heartbeat. I always knew that a miscarriage was a terrible experience but I had no idea that it would be so painful, prolonged and frightening or end in emergency surgery after two failed attempts at medical management.

Whilst recovering back at home, I struggled to come to terms with the loss. Not only was I in physical pain but I also felt bereft and heartbroken. As the time passed I knew that I needed something tangible to mark the event and acknowledge a life that was never meant to last for long. I began to think about western ways of dealing with death but none of them seemed to be appropriate. Then I remembered the ceremonies that I have witnessed in Japan and Hong Kong. I have always felt an affinity with Buddhist teachings and found their religious ceremonies and temples to be calming.  I realise that religion is not to be dipped in and out of but I really needed a way of acknowledging the fact that I would never get to hold or meet my lost baby.

These thoughts led me to think about the use of paper votives, street shrines (which I have posted about before) and Jizo statues. I first came across Jizo statues in temples and at roadsides when I lived in Japan. I was intrigued to know why certain small statues were adorned with hats and bibs. I later learnt from my Japanese friends that they were used to represent the souls of dead children.

Jizo Statues photo by Al McDermid

Jizo is a Bodhisattva who looks after women, children (including the souls of unborn children) and travellers. Jizo statues are a physical marker of a loss of a child and a protector. They are used in Mizuko Kuyo, which is a Japanese ceremony held in Buddhist temples for those who have had a miscarriage, stillbirth, or abortion. Mizuko beautifully translates as "water child” which for me seems a really fitting description of a lost baby. 

After thinking about these traditions, I decided that I wanted to create a paper offering that could be released as a simple farewell. I settled on the idea of an origami boat which would be set free by the action of it floating down a gentle stream at Dunham Massey, one of our favourite places. I printed off my favourite wedding photo (that has myself, my husband and son on it) and wrote a letter to baby Chip from all of us before folding it up into a paper boat. I later added 4x sails to symbolise each one of us, with the largest sail representing baby Chip. We floated the boat away the other evening and as time is passing I feel physically better and now hope that the act of saying goodbye will help my emotional healing.

Goodbye baby Chip.