Category Archives: Design

The 5th Belongs to Calvin: International Bereaved Mothers Day – I choose to live and to honor you

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This month, the 5th is special for several reasons:

  • this is Calvin’s 50th month in heaven (that actually makes me want to cry, knowing how long it’s been since I’ve held him),
  • it is International Bereaved Mothers Day, and
  • it is the 1 year anniversary of Still Standing Magazine and the heavenly birthday of Fran’s (the magazine’s founder) daughter Jenna Belle

So, inspired by my Calvin, Rainbow, and Gaelen in heaven, in sisterhood with all of my fellow bereaved and infertile mothers, and in honor of all of the babies we’re missing, I created this card to share a small piece of what being a babyloss momma has come to mean to me:

International Bereaved Mother's Day / I am still standing

It was not my choice to survive without you… So I choose to live and to honor you. I am still standing. (Crystal Theresa Zapanta)

Please feel free to tag yourself and your loved ones and to share this via the photo on Facebook. You may also use this image on your own site/blog using the code below (please do not alter the image):



Dear Calvin, I love you so much my heart could burst. Though it’s been 50 long months since I last held you, sweet boy, I need to remember that it just means I’m 50 months much closer to heaven. I chose life for you, my son, and I continue to choose life for our family by honoring you and your sisters and by fully embracing this time on earth with your daddy and your baby brother, even as I ache for you.

<3, Crystal Theresa

The 5th Belongs to Calvin: Tears are sacred

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Chairs, Candles, and Tissue

Not long after losing Calvin, Louie and I began attending a bereaved parents support group through the hospital. We met in the same room every week for two months. The chairs would be arranged in a circle, and in the middle of the circle would be a circle of candles—one for each of us to light before we began then to blow out before we left. On every couple of chairs, there would be a box of tissue. The tissues were there, of course, because tears were expected. But their placement and the amount of tissue boxes (instead of one that could be passed around) were deliberate.

One of the therapists who facilitated the group explained that they wanted us to be able to reach them ourselves, because the act of handing someone a tissue is often associated with asking that person to stop crying, to stop the flow of tears. They didn’t want us to feel that pressure of needing to stifle ourselves and hold back. They wanted to honor our grief and our emotions, and they wanted us to do the same for each other and for ourselves.

Comfort, Tears, and Power

This has stuck with me over the past three years. It changed my understanding of what it means to comfort to others: to abide and to bear witness, instead of finding ways to “stop” the aching. It has also changed the way I view my own mourning and given me the grace of accepting and acknowledging the waves of grief, instead of trying to fight it or run away. Yes, there is vulnerability and even discomfort in watching another’s tears and in allowing oneself to cry, but as Washington Irving said:

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief… and unspeakable love.”

So, for my first baby’s 3 years and 3 months in heaven today, I created this printable from Dandiewinks:

Sacred Tears


Dear Calvin Phoenix, there are not enough tears in me to express how much I love you and your siblings. But so long as they flow, I welcome them; it is one of the few ways I have of offering my heart to you. Mommy and daddy love you so much.


<3, Crystal Theresa

The 5th Belongs to Calvin: A simple gift for bereaved parents

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It’s been 38 months since Calvin was born. I can’t believe it’s been over three years. Especially in the early days of grief, it was hard to imagine surviving. But here I am, a survivor of stillbirth, two miscarriages, and infertility. Today, I am 35 weeks and 5 days pregnant with my fourth child.

Although time has softened the edges of grief and being pregnant with Charlie has breathed new life and hope in me, it hasn’t changed the fact that I miss my first baby… and my second baby… and my third baby. It doesn’t change the wondering Do others remember them? Do other think about them? Have people forgotten?

Something that I’ve learned is that even though we are the ones who are deeply hurting, missing, and grieving, it’s not enough to wait and expect others to come to us and offer support. There is so much fear surrounding how to approached the bereaved that, to get the comfort we need, it’s up to us to reach out and say Please let us know that you remember us, that you remember the child(ren) we’ve lost. It seems backwards, and it took me a while to reconcile this, but until we tell others that the best way to be there for us is not to distract or avoid, it will continue. To help get this message out, I created this card, which can you read more about at Dandiewinks:

...you remember that they lived, and that's a great, great gift.

Please feel free to use it and share. Clicking on the image will bring you to Flickr, where you can choose which size you’d like to download. And here is the quote, which I first read from Tiffany (Genesis’s mommy):

“If you know someone who has lost a child or lost anybody who’s important to them, and you’re afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died, they didn’t forget they died. You’re not reminding them. What you’re reminding them of is that you remember that they lived, and that’s a great, great gift.” (Elizabeth Edwards)


Happy 38 months in heaven, my sweet Calvin. I am forever grateful for you.

<3, Crystal Theresa

Remembering my grandmother

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Sometimes the words get so jumbled and mixed up with everything that you’re feeling and wanting to express that you need to distill it down into as few syllables as possible.

This is for my paternal grandmother, my Mama Sue, who passed away unexpectedly last week.

Suzuko Kondo Zapanta (08.01.1934 - 03.13.2012)

Suzuko Kondo Zapanta
(August 1, 1934 – March 13, 2012)

Lotus flowers bloom
to swallow the falling rain
Mama is smiling

<3, Crystal Theresa

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