We recently celebrated Levi’s 6th stillbirthday. A day filled with grief and love. We have always celebrated Levi on this day. And we have always included our other kids in the celebrating too.

It feels strange and right to have a cake for our son who will never get the chance to blow candles out.

It feels sad and good that he get a fun day to be remembered and celebrated, even if we can’t do it with him.

It is so wrong that it is his stillbirthday and not just his birthday. But it is so necessary to set aside time for him just as we do our other kids.

This day is always a hard day. But it is also often a good day.

A day where we allow ourselves grace to feel sad and happy.

A day where we intentionally make memories as a family in Levi’s honor.

A day where we infuse laughter and fun into a grief-stricken memory.

A day where we wonder what his personality would be like.

A day where we rejoice and mourn.

Grief has a way of infecting your life whether you want it or not. It has a way of reminding you of it’s presence.

Jonnie has a book from his master’s degree called “The Body Keeps the Score”. I find this true, especially on this day. Every year on June 3 since 2015, I have awoken at Levi’s birthtime. Not always for very long, but always long enough to recognize the significance. The body does keep score indeed.

I’ve also heard the term, ‘grief alarm clock’ – that your body will let you know when a significant grief moment is upon you. We have found it important and helpful to plan this day to be special to help with the grief alarm clock. To bring it down from a sharp alarm, to a gentle reminder. In planning ahead for this day, we can honour Levi, acknowledge our grief and allow space for our emotions.