Dear Harper,
It all kind of starts with an iPod even though there is so much more to it than that. You were named Harper after the musician Ben Harper and the song Diamonds on the inside. That song was blaring on the radio the first time I felt you flutter, and once we found out you were a girl, you were Harper from then on.
That song has long since been deleted from my iPod. There wasn't enough room for it when I started adding all the Mumford type music to it. It didn't make the cut because it tugged too much at my heart. Made me cry mercilessly in the moments it played. One would think that hearing the songs played at your service would be the ones to do it but they weren't. I listen to those all the time without much affect. But that song, it slayed me like a dragon.
Everyone who knows me knows that once I heard Mumford and Sons for the first time I damn near forgot every other band on the planet. I smiled again while listening to them. They saved me from a very dark place after losing you and my music choices reflected that. Everything was very indie and new age folk, bluegrass. A very mellow turn in my selections.
A month after seeing Mumford for the third time in 2 years, I returned from Troy, Ohio/Indianapolis, Indiana with a stack of CDs from the merchandise booth for all the opening acts. I call them opening acts but they were all headliners in Troy. I steadily added them to my iPod, and the ones that I couldn't get CDs for, I began downloading. And that fateful message appeared on my screen. "Not enough disk space to store the items you have selected". I went from barely being able to fill HALF of a 4 gb iPod to needing much more space. I still had CDs to go, and no room.
In that moment, one of the few of clarity, I commandeered Brianna's iPod. I wiped what she had on it and started the revival of my music. I added everything new I had bought and I still had plenty of space. So I thought long and hard about things I had deleted to make room for Mumford & Friends on it. And I pulled out some other music, began adding back. This process took days and it makes me never want to buy a new iPod again. I clicked through my cloud, adding back things that had been long lost to my ears. Diamonds on the inside was one of the first songs to make it back. And Johnny Cash. So many good things. Coming across Korn's rehash of Another Brick in The Wall inspired me to want The Doors and Pink Floyd back on my playlist but I only had the Dark Side of the Moon and I wanted The Wall. So off to iTunes I went in search. Then I remembered how great the song comfortably numb was and wish you were here and I clicked download.
Wish you were here was the first to finish and I clicked it to listen. I heard the familiar guitar strumming and closed my eyes. Listening intently...tears began to stream down my face. It sparked something deep inside me and I couldn't hold it back. It had opened the flood gates to feelings I had been keeping a secret, even from myself.
The tears burned into my flesh, my nose ran like a sugar tree as I listened to it again. Trying to place exactly why, other than obvious reasons, this song would trigger such emotions. Your due date approaches...October is upon us. OCTOBER IS UPON US AND I WISH YOU WERE HERE!!! It is a mix of emotions, this beautiful roller coaster of emotion. I am angry because you aren't here, yet thankful because I got to know you at all.
Funny how lyrics can make you feel such intense things, One line can make you lose your center of balance and teeter on the edge of a breakdown. Just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. I miss you so very much and even though I put on a smile and trudge through life there are just some days I can't pretend not to be sad. There are some days I can't pretend not to ache wickedly at your absence. There are some days that I can't pretend I don't cry when I see your picture or hear your name. There are some days I just can't be that woman, the one who can keep herself composed at all times. No one is perfect, and I can be honest about my imperfections. But damn....
How I wish. How I wish you were here.
Love you,
Mommy
Monday, September 30, 2013
Saturday, September 14, 2013
Falling into place
Dear Harper,
Today the weather is perfect, it's not too hot and it's not too cold. I have the windows open and the breeze is coursing through the house. It is fall.
This time of year is my favorite, the colors and the smell of people burning leaves. But it also leaves me with an empty feeling, like something is missing.
You were due to arrive in the fall. Set amongst gorgeous colors and the scents that I love. Your dark brown hair and peachy skin set amongst the leaves fallen for your first photo session.
I am reminded that you aren't here to see the wonders of the world as I slide the locks open on the windows and pull them down, letting the fresh air inside.
I've pulled out all the decorations for our home and started placing them. And I am reminded very much of the place that you have here. Reminded how things can change in the blink of an eye.
You may not have a room, you may not have boxes full of toys and a closet full of clothes but you're here. You're here coursing through my veins, here holding your brother and sister's hands as they make new strides every day. You are here reminding your dad how amazing he is.
You are here! In the place you were meant to be. It may not be in my arms for a night time snuggle, or splashing in the bath tub. But you're here, the glue that holds our little piece of crazy together.
I can't say that it is what I wanted. I can't say that this was my wish for our lives. But, I can say that you've made me a better person and for that I am thankful.
So, as I drag out all my decorations for this time of year to make autumn inside the house I happily find only the things I love to decorate the mantle for you. All the pieces of life just fall into place.
I love you sweet bean.
Love,
Mommy
Wednesday, August 14, 2013
Like a dream
Dear Harper,
I have been thinking about you a lot lately. And then today I read a blog post from the baby loss community and it made me realize so many things about our journey.
People dance around their feelings out of fear of someone thinking they are wrong. I,too, am guilty of this, I don't post things because I often worry how they will be perceived. That being said, I am a new me and I'm stepping out from behind that curtain and talking more openly. More honestly. Let me be clear, this post is not for the faint of heart. It's a mess and some of it ugly. But it's my mess and I wouldn't change it for the world.
We dance around words. Try to make things prettier than they are. The fact is, you died. You didn't get to greet this world with screaming. You came into this world silently. I remember the moments vividly. But saying that you died sounds ugly so I waltzed around it and used nicer words when speaking of our story.
Even as I held your lifeless body in my arms, I felt many things. I was heartbroken beyond the explanation of mere words. But I had an overwhelming sense of pride. Mixed with my grief was a small joy. You were BEAUTIFUL and I made you. I was a proud mother. I was proud of the sheer divinity that I had created. I felt that there was no truer words than the saying 'too beautiful for earth'.
According to the etiquette of life, as given to us by society, it was wrong for me to have that moment of pride when the circumstances were nothing but cumbersome. But, Harper Lynn, you were beautiful and I was proud! I looked at your sweet little face, laying in my arms so peaceful and I cried.
I wept because you would never see the nursery, you would never meet your siblings and no longer would you hear the sound of my voice whisking you away to dreamland. I wept because of your perfect little face, and perfect tiny fingers and perfect tiny toes. I sobbed as I held you, from pain, from pride. How could grief and joy mix so harmoniously on July 12, 2010? That's not right. I shouldn't have felt those things together. Or so I am told.
I spent the next 12 hours with you. Hoping, wishing that things were different. Yet I found smiles amongst the tears as I ran my hands over your short black hair. It reminded me of your grandma. I sat in a sobering silence as the nurse wheeled you out of my room for the last time. I gazed upon the bassinet which held my daughter. The one who died.
I sat in silence for the rest of the day. The nurses came in and out, feeding me pills to make me forget. But how do you forget losing a piece of your own soul? People came in and out, I spoke, mostly out of a drugged stupor. Remember not the things I said because I don't.
I remember listening to a newborn scream in the neighboring room all night that night and I was angry. I was red with anger. Not because I lost my baby but because that baby needed to be held and the new mom was 'too tired' to do it. So the baby went to the nursery. I would have killed to hold that baby, to tell it that everything was okay and that it was loved.
I remember walking across the hallway to the nurses station that is nestled in the center of the birthing rooms, nursery and patient rooms. I stared at the door of the delivery room you were born in. It's not with the others, it's by itself in a corner. It's for those moms who don't get to show the world their baby. Then the nurse asked me if she could help me, it broke my stare and I remember looking at her somberly.
I lost track of the conversation with her, maybe because of all the medications I was on. But I heard a baby cry, so I looked past her and saw a deliciously fat baby waiting for placement in a foster home. I wanted to hold her. Love her too. But instead I had to be brought back to reality. The nurse, so nicely and carefully brought me back to the reality that you had died and asked if I needed help. I did need her help...I needed her help filling out your stillbirth paperwork. I wasn't sure what boxes to check.
That night in the hospital was nothing but sobering. Filling out papers saying you were dead, figuring out how to arrange a funeral for a baby, and knowing you were just down the hall...in a morgue. I can't remember much after the paperwork, they medicated me some more and tucked me in for the night.
The next morning, I woke and I showered. I stood in the tiny bathroom looking at my belly. Trying to comprehend how yesterday I had a baby and today I didn't. And I got mad. I wanted to go home. I wanted out, NOW! I wanted to go home and explain to my kids that they weren't going to have a sister in the capacity that we had talked about. I washed my hands as I looked at my own tear stained face in the mirror, I remember losing focus again on the water rushing down the drain and realizing that water held a lifetime of dreams.
The doctor came to check on me, I remember your dad doing most of the talking because I had little to say to anyone. The nurses brought us things and told us things and I didn't hear them. Their words fell upon deaf ears. I remember wanting to go home. He said I could go, he'd have the discharge papers done and in about half hour I could go home. I nodded ever so slightly as he walked out the door.
What was that? All the rushing we heard as soon as he walked out. There was a ruckus being raised and I wasn't amused. I sat on the side of the stupid bed, in the stupid hospital, waiting for a stupid doctor to let me go get in my damn car and go home to a babyless home. Your dad went out to see what was taking so long. Oh great, I couldn't leave this nightmare behind because someone had a baby. I was mad, I just needed out.
Finally, after what felt like years, the nurse brought some papers that your dad took. And next thing I knew I was walking down soulless hallways through an endless maze to the doors of the hospital carrying all that would ever be considered your belongings.
I walked into the house, to your brothers room and climbed into the bed you and I had shared for the last 6 weeks while I was on bed rest. And I went to sleep. I didn't eat. Didn't talk. Just slept.
I had to plan your funeral the next day. Flowers came, cards came, your service came and went. I remember very little. Just the black hole of a mind that I was swimming in. I came and went but didn't have much to say. I took my medicine and breathed.
You couldn't ask for much of me. That was all I could manage, breathing. People checked in, I faked the smiles, and I was nothing but a shell of a mom to your brother and sister. If it hadn't been for Holly, your sister wouldn't have had much of a birthday. I just couldn't muster it. My birthday was spent teetering on the edge of madness and with family. Your grandparents took us to dinner. I tried hard to enjoy it but without you there just wasn't much to enjoy.
The days and weeks passed, I spoke of you often, cried even more, and just breathed. I had given up, I wasn't a person, I was the remnants of a once very lively person...I was letting it all go.
I threw myself into volunteering in your sister's kindergarten class. I did PTA stuff. I was spending as much time at school as they were. It kept me from being with the demons in my own head. Kept me from succumbing to the emptiness.
And mere weeks after your slight moment on earth, I got two lines on the pregnancy test. I was having a baby.
Honestly, I thought it would fix me but all that positive test did was create a sheer panic. I wanted to be excited, I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be elated about it. But I couldn't get over the idea that, whoever was on their way, would die too. How do you get excited about something that you've already decided you most certainly won't get to keep?
It was a gauntlet of emotion. If it was to be felt, I felt it. I was scared. Scared if having to do it again. Scared of losing another child, which I knew that my heart could not handle. It would be the final nail in the coffin. Which as I typed that, I giggled because it such a morbid thing to type in a post such as thing. But it is nothing but the truth.
Life was zooming around me as I stood still. Weeks passed with the pregnancy, my belly grew, I saw you weekly on that screen, heard your tiny heart beating stronger and stronger. But I was still hanging on to the what ifs. It made it hard to be over the moon.
And then the day came that they asked if I wanted to know what the baby was. Of course I wanted to know. But then those words escaped the technicians mouth, it's a girl. I felt a rush of many things in that moment. Was I going to get to keep her? Was this really happening? I need more pink! We need things for her! I want pink!
Over the course of the pregnancy I went through ups and downs, emotionally and physically. And as we neared the end of wait, I was beginning to feel the excitement. Her room was ready and she was named after you, Harlyn.
She got here, I heard the tiny cry from the massive squishy baby and my heart stopped, tears bled down my face. But it was mixed emotions. It was more than I understood. I was sobbing because my perseverance had paid off but also because I was here, I was having another baby because you weren't here. It took me down a quick flash of memory lane. I cried because you were gone and because she was here.
There is more truth than can be written when I say that Harlyn saved my life. She pulled me from the abyss I was losing myself in, she made me able to move forward, she made me realize that I could miss you and be happy. It wasn't until I saw her that I felt happy again. She was massive, and beautiful, and she looked just like you. It was stunning to see her face and see your resemblance.
I spent 10 months so afraid I would forget you that I forgot to live. And in the moment of seeing your sister's face and seeing you there I knew that she would never let me forget a moment. You and her did something amazing on June 6, 2011. Without being here, you made me realize that I was going to be okay. That even without you in my arms I was gonna live.
I spent her first months sleeping only when others were awake. I stared at her all night every night because it was so surreal to finally, after 18 months of being pregnant, had a baby to call mine. A baby that was here. There was fear mixed with that. I was scared she would be gone when I woke up.
She is two and a half. And it's been two and a half years of crazy, insane fun. I miss you everyday. But Harlyn showed me that I'm allowed to be happy even though you're gone. Doesn't change that I love you, or that I miss you. Or that I teeter into the abyss sometimes when things get overwhelming. That pain is a welcome visitor at times because it helps remind me that I need to never take anything for granted. And it reminds me that you were here and weren't just a figment of my imagination.
Three and a half years ago my life was flipped inside out and I was tossed into an abyss that only I could climb out of. Three and a half years later, I stand before you, still breathing, still living, my heart still beating. I am living a dream.
Friday, July 12, 2013
Happy Birthday Darling
Today is your birthday, it's bittersweet for me. You're not here yet we celebrate. Happy 3rd birthday my darling. Three years have come and gone in the flash of an eye.
I sit here on the deck watching the stars and listening to the grasshoppers sing as I type this out.
How can one's heart be so heavy yet so light and joyful? It's impossible to answer, yet, here I sit feeling this way. Sorrowful yet elated.
There are so many things I wish you could see. So many things I wish I could show you. I'm sure you see all that I do from where you are but it would be grand to put you on my shoulders and let you see the world from here. It brings me pain to know that I can't ever do this with you in this life.
The overwhelming sense of joy comes from seeing all the great things that were accomplished today in your honor, in your name. Pure unadulterated happiness spews from within knowing that your name rang openly across the world today. That so many acts of kindness were bestowed upon society for you and by you.
I sit here writing this blog with a heavy yet happy heart and tears both sad & happy stain my face. I miss you more than I could ever put into words but seeing your greatness put into solid action today was stupendous.
Today was not cumbersome. Today was not dreary. Today was not filled with gloom. It was beautiful, filled with happiness, filled with grandeur, and with smiles.
I smiled more today than I have in probably a year. They were genuine and heartfelt smiles as I opened the doors for others, as I said hello to every single person I saw today. My heart danced in pure bliss as I walked through the day. Feeling my phone shake in my pocket as I worked and seeing messages for you.
I passed on many acts of kindness for you. I giggled in delight every time I saw another one taking place.
Everyday is a new learning experience for me. Today's lesson was that kindness IS contagious. You show your smile and the world smiles back. You put out positive vibes and the vibration you receive is positive. Lessons in life are given when you least expect them. And sometimes in the hardest ways. Thank you sweet child, for the lessons you have taught me over the last three years. You amaze me!
While I wish more than anything that things were different and that you were here with me I still feel blessed to have known you at all. You are one incredible little girl.
You've made me a better mother, a better person and reminded me that I believe that people are inherently good. That this world, while lurking with evil, is a beautiful and happy place. For these lessons I can never repay you.
Happy Birthday Harper. You are loved and missed.
Love always,
Mommy
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Magnitude
Dear Harper,
Today as I sit here looking at my dashboard on Blogger and on Tumblr I am blown away. I am blown away by the love that has been shown for your blog, this blog. I was excited when a post reached 20 views and to see all of the posts soaring to much bigger numbers is making my heart dance. I am reaching someone, I am helping someone, I am keeping hope alive for someone. This is an amazing feeling. For the first time in the 16 years that I have been writing I finally feel like a writer...all because of YOU.
I am blown away not only by the positive energy that you've created from this blog, and the positive flow that is happening for your birthday but I am knocked to my knees by all the magnitude in which you have achieved from so very far away. Your little feet my have never touched the soft grass or the rich soil of this earth, and your lungs my have never filled with the air of a fresh rain but you are here. YOU are doing wondrous things, accomplishing so much without gracing the world with your beautiful face.
I am proud to call myself a writer now. You've guided my hand these last two years, telling me which direction to go and I am forever grateful. You've shown me that my time and my tears are worth it. That my hard work is paying off.
Our blog has seen views from all over the world, gaining access from so many sources. Our links are being passed around like gum on the school bus.We have followers from around the globe and famous authors reblogging us. We are doing immense things in this life. This is a greatness that I couldn't have made on my own. I have you, my guiding hand. This is greatness in the name of you, Harper!
Something that I am even more proud of is calling myself your mom. What a blessing! You showed me how to turn this pain into something much grander and much more positive that I had ever dreamed possible. The only way I can show my gratitude to you is to continue doing what I have been doing, sharing my heart with you and the world.
Tomorrow is your birthday, and for the first time since your passing, I am not sullen as it approaches. I am elated and bursting at the seams with joy. This joy is such that I still cry, though happy tears stain my face. Happy to see our little family accomplishing something so incredibly monstrous and daunting. We are able to do this because our hearts are filled and over flowing with you.
You were meant for great things baby girl, even if you aren't walking this earth to do them.
Thank you for waking me up, and making me realize that I was meant for greatness too.
I love you sweet bean, to the ends of the earth and back.
Forever and always,
Mommy
Today as I sit here looking at my dashboard on Blogger and on Tumblr I am blown away. I am blown away by the love that has been shown for your blog, this blog. I was excited when a post reached 20 views and to see all of the posts soaring to much bigger numbers is making my heart dance. I am reaching someone, I am helping someone, I am keeping hope alive for someone. This is an amazing feeling. For the first time in the 16 years that I have been writing I finally feel like a writer...all because of YOU.
I am blown away not only by the positive energy that you've created from this blog, and the positive flow that is happening for your birthday but I am knocked to my knees by all the magnitude in which you have achieved from so very far away. Your little feet my have never touched the soft grass or the rich soil of this earth, and your lungs my have never filled with the air of a fresh rain but you are here. YOU are doing wondrous things, accomplishing so much without gracing the world with your beautiful face.
I am proud to call myself a writer now. You've guided my hand these last two years, telling me which direction to go and I am forever grateful. You've shown me that my time and my tears are worth it. That my hard work is paying off.
Our blog has seen views from all over the world, gaining access from so many sources. Our links are being passed around like gum on the school bus.We have followers from around the globe and famous authors reblogging us. We are doing immense things in this life. This is a greatness that I couldn't have made on my own. I have you, my guiding hand. This is greatness in the name of you, Harper!
Something that I am even more proud of is calling myself your mom. What a blessing! You showed me how to turn this pain into something much grander and much more positive that I had ever dreamed possible. The only way I can show my gratitude to you is to continue doing what I have been doing, sharing my heart with you and the world.
Tomorrow is your birthday, and for the first time since your passing, I am not sullen as it approaches. I am elated and bursting at the seams with joy. This joy is such that I still cry, though happy tears stain my face. Happy to see our little family accomplishing something so incredibly monstrous and daunting. We are able to do this because our hearts are filled and over flowing with you.
You were meant for great things baby girl, even if you aren't walking this earth to do them.
Thank you for waking me up, and making me realize that I was meant for greatness too.
I love you sweet bean, to the ends of the earth and back.
Forever and always,
Mommy
Suffering becomes beautiful when anyone bears great calamities with cheerfulness, not through insensibility but through greatness of mind. ~Aristotle
Monday, July 8, 2013
YOU'VE BEEN RAK'D!!!
Dear Harper,
Last year I decided that your birthday would become my Random Act of Kindness day. I always do small things throughout the year but I try exceptionally hard on your birthday. The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention. Your birthday is this Friday so that means the world should be prepared to be RAK'd.
Last year, your dad and I took it throughout the online gaming community that we were a part of. It was infectious. The people we shared the idea with took it even further than we could have ever dreamed and passed the message and your name along. Asking everyone, posting on their facebooks, emailing and texting asking everyone they knew to commit a random act of kindness. ALL FOR YOU. Who knows how many random acts were committed last year all in your name.
Baby girl you are doing amazing things from where you are. You blow my mind everyday in every way. Some how you manage to dip your finger into everything we do. You are changing the world one person at a time. Enlightening hearts and sending spirits soaring. Let's see how we can RAK it up this year!
I love you Bean!
Love Mommy
For all my readers and followers, Look below for some ideas on how to RAK it up. A RAK doesn't have to cost money, it can be as simple as a hello or a hug. I have attached a printable sheet of RAK cards to hand out when you do something.
You can find more here:
Kindness Ideas
100 Ideas for Good Karma - RAK
RAK for Harper Pinterest board
Participating in RAK for Harper will make your heart and soul feel good! Help me spread love and joy on Friday July 12, 2010.
Last year I decided that your birthday would become my Random Act of Kindness day. I always do small things throughout the year but I try exceptionally hard on your birthday. The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention. Your birthday is this Friday so that means the world should be prepared to be RAK'd.
Baby girl you are doing amazing things from where you are. You blow my mind everyday in every way. Some how you manage to dip your finger into everything we do. You are changing the world one person at a time. Enlightening hearts and sending spirits soaring. Let's see how we can RAK it up this year!
I love you Bean!
Love Mommy
For all my readers and followers, Look below for some ideas on how to RAK it up. A RAK doesn't have to cost money, it can be as simple as a hello or a hug. I have attached a printable sheet of RAK cards to hand out when you do something.
- Say hello to someone
- Tape quarters to the candy machines at the grocery store and place a card that says YOU"VE BEEN RAK'D.
- Hold the door for someone
- Go to a nursing home and spend some time with the people who live there
- Help someone who's car is broken down
- Help someone with yard work
- Read to kids at the library
- Let someone have your place in line
- Pick up trash at the park
- Make a new friend
- Make someone smile
- Buy the person in line behind you's coffee or meal
- Write a letter to someone who inspired you
- Visit the animal shelter
- Donate books/clothes/food to a charity
- Listen to someone in need
- Be a Designated Driver
- Adopt a soldier
- Donate that $1 at the store for whatever cause they are collecting for
- Tape a RAK card and a package of popcorn to the redbox in your area
You can find more here:
Kindness Ideas
100 Ideas for Good Karma - RAK
RAK for Harper Pinterest board
Participating in RAK for Harper will make your heart and soul feel good! Help me spread love and joy on Friday July 12, 2010.
PRINTABLE RAK CARDS:
HEY...PSSST! PASS THIS ON! Send this link all over the world, let RAKs happen everywhere. Help me spread the love!
HAPPY RAK-ING!
When you commit a RAK please comment and let us know!
OUR RAK CARDS!
Saturday, July 6, 2013
There is no way and there never was
Dear Harper,
I have been writing to you for some time now. Writing has always been a passion of mine. I went to college to be a writer. For nearly 16 years I have been eating, sleeping, and breathing writing. It has waxed and waned over that course. Months of writers block setting in, no words to type, no pencil to paper.
I waited ten months, ten long months to write to you again. It is not because I don't love you, but because the words were escaping me. I let them disappear. It had died inside of me and I was waiting for a rebirth. It happens from time to time. My purpose has always been to tell you things you need to know so that maybe one day I can help someone who is weathering the storm set before them.
It was nearly thirteen years ago when I stepped foot onto campus the first time with big dreams of being an entertainment journalist. Things seemed promising. But that was not my destiny. For a while I thought that my dream had escaped me. That I had let it get away by being a 20 year old that had better things to do that my course work. Oh how wrong I was. The best is always yet to be.
I never write for me anymore, it's always for you. While writing relieves a certain amount of emotion that builds up, it isn't for me. I always dreamt, even from the start, that my words would move someone. Empower them. Encourage them to become the person they were born to be. I believe I was born to be a writer, though my words never set forth that encouragement, only strung me along the way. Atta girls coming from time to time.
I spend lots of time writing to you in my head, sometimes my finger never touch the keys. But please believe, that when they do it is nothing but heart felt, gut wrenching emotion pouring out from them. Do not pity me for they are not always sad tears. In fact, often times they are tears of absolute joy that I got to know you at all. For that, I am thankful. You have carried me without even being here.
As your birthday approaches, my heart saddens, a loss that I will never get over. Time does not make it easier but I learn to move forward, never forgetting but using you as a catalyst to help others, to soothe their pain and to relate to their sorrows.
While losing you brought me the most wretched heartache, it also brought a breath of life into my soul. Empowering ME to become the person I am today. So I wanted to be a writer...and thanks to you I finally feel like one.
I love you sweet bean.
Love always, with a heart full of new wonder and excitement,
Mommy
I leave you with this sweet darling, it has inspired my life in so many ways. I thought I had a rocket exploding from me, a lioness roaring the words out, but I was wrong. You were my rocket sweet love, and for that, I thank you.
I have been writing to you for some time now. Writing has always been a passion of mine. I went to college to be a writer. For nearly 16 years I have been eating, sleeping, and breathing writing. It has waxed and waned over that course. Months of writers block setting in, no words to type, no pencil to paper.
I waited ten months, ten long months to write to you again. It is not because I don't love you, but because the words were escaping me. I let them disappear. It had died inside of me and I was waiting for a rebirth. It happens from time to time. My purpose has always been to tell you things you need to know so that maybe one day I can help someone who is weathering the storm set before them.
It was nearly thirteen years ago when I stepped foot onto campus the first time with big dreams of being an entertainment journalist. Things seemed promising. But that was not my destiny. For a while I thought that my dream had escaped me. That I had let it get away by being a 20 year old that had better things to do that my course work. Oh how wrong I was. The best is always yet to be.
I never write for me anymore, it's always for you. While writing relieves a certain amount of emotion that builds up, it isn't for me. I always dreamt, even from the start, that my words would move someone. Empower them. Encourage them to become the person they were born to be. I believe I was born to be a writer, though my words never set forth that encouragement, only strung me along the way. Atta girls coming from time to time.
I spend lots of time writing to you in my head, sometimes my finger never touch the keys. But please believe, that when they do it is nothing but heart felt, gut wrenching emotion pouring out from them. Do not pity me for they are not always sad tears. In fact, often times they are tears of absolute joy that I got to know you at all. For that, I am thankful. You have carried me without even being here.
As your birthday approaches, my heart saddens, a loss that I will never get over. Time does not make it easier but I learn to move forward, never forgetting but using you as a catalyst to help others, to soothe their pain and to relate to their sorrows.
While losing you brought me the most wretched heartache, it also brought a breath of life into my soul. Empowering ME to become the person I am today. So I wanted to be a writer...and thanks to you I finally feel like one.
I love you sweet bean.
Love always, with a heart full of new wonder and excitement,
Mommy
I leave you with this sweet darling, it has inspired my life in so many ways. I thought I had a rocket exploding from me, a lioness roaring the words out, but I was wrong. You were my rocket sweet love, and for that, I thank you.
So You Want To Be A Writer
if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
~Charles Bukowski
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.
if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.
don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.
when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.
and there never was.
~Charles Bukowski
so you want to be a writer?
by Charles Bukowskiif it doesn't come bursting out of you in spite of everything, don't do it. unless it comes unasked out of your heart and your mind and your mouth and your gut, don't do it. if you have to sit for hours staring at your computer screen or hunched over your typewriter searching for words, don't do it. if you're doing it for money or fame, don't do it. if you're doing it because you want women in your bed, don't do it. if you have to sit there and rewrite it again and again, don't do it. if it's hard work just thinking about doing it, don't do it. if you're trying to write like somebody else, forget about it. if you have to wait for it to roar out of you, then wait patiently. if it never does roar out of you, do something else. if you first have to read it to your wife or your girlfriend or your boyfriend or your parents or to anybody at all, you're not ready. don't be like so many writers, don't be like so many thousands of people who call themselves writers, don't be dull and boring and pretentious, don't be consumed with self- love. the libraries of the world have yawned themselves to sleep over your kind. don't add to that. don't do it. unless it comes out of your soul like a rocket, unless being still would drive you to madness or suicide or murder, don't do it. unless the sun inside you is burning your gut, don't do it. when it is truly time, and if you have been chosen, it will do it by itself and it will keep on doing it until you die or it dies in you. there is no other way. and there never was.- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16549#sthash.jluerwyL.dpuf
Friday, July 5, 2013
Eye of the Hurricane
Dear Harper,
It's Independence Weekend here in the great nation of the U.S. of A.. While most Americans are celebrating the birth of a nation I am celebrating the loss of a treasure.
July brings so many feelings for me. Vividly remembering our time together. Your pregnancy was anything but easy. Little did I know that the worst was only coming.
July 4, it was a beautiful day. I remember it vividly. I was on light activity, but it was a holiday so we were planning on going to the farm for a cookout. The sun was shining brightly, it was warm but not overly hot just yet. I rested on the swing on the patio while your brother and sister played in the yard. I was sluggish and tired but that was nothing new. The day went by smoothly, just taking it all in and thinking you would be with me the next 4th, you'd be nine months old and probably starting to cruise. Daydreaming of what was to come.
I slept well that night, which was a feat in itself. I had become restless worrying about you. In hindsight, worry is nothing but a waste of energy because what will be will be.
July 5, the sun was blaring early in the day. It was gorgeous. Your grandma had bought the kids a swimming pool to occupy their time. They were up early and begging me to join them in the pool. I didn't have a bathing suit so I meandered outside in my pajamas and slid down into the warm water. You immediately started kicking like crazy. The kids splashed wildly as you moved around my belly. Their little hands laying on my skin to feel you kicking. They giggled intensely at this, it was the first time they had ever felt you. You loved hearing them so happy, it only made you dance more.
This day stands out the most in my brain. This memory is one of the most vivid of the entire pregnancy. I have so many pictures from this day, your brother and sister playing in the pool and making goofy faces. These photos litter the house, but I want it no other way. They are memories from one of the happiest times of my life.
I went to bed that night, exhausted but feeling incredibly happy. I should have known that this was the calm before the storm. They say when you are on the verge of dying that you miraculously feel better in the days before passing. And I felt better than I had in weeks. I was so happy, energetic, and feeling over the top good. This was the eye of the storm. This was the calmest it would be before I weathered the worst to be.
You have to weather the storm to see the rainbow
The next few days passed as all the others, I was tired, and didn't do much other than lay in bed whilst your brother and sister played. Brianna was prepping for Kindergarten and was excited about school. (That quickly changed)
July 8, I went to the doctor for one of twice weekly visits. Everything seemed okay. There you were kicking away on the ultrasound, your heart rate happy and healthy. My OB had cleared me for light activities and had said I could ride with your dad to get the oil changed in the car. I came home and went back to bed as per my normal routine. I showed Kaden and Brianna your ultrasounds and we talked about how excited we were to meet you. Sleep went as usual that night.
July 9, the day that will live in infamy in our family. The day a piece of my soul died. The day I became incomplete. I woke up, and you were slow but active. We decided to head on to get the oil changed. You gave us a couple of big kicks before we left so I knew you were okay. We drove to the dealership to get the oil changed, my iPod blaring James Brown, your sister's choice. I danced in the seat of the car as we drove down the interstate. The only word to describe our family at that moment was happy. The trip took much longer than intended, I was tired. I was hungry and your siblings were too.
We made it home and had a snack, then as per my routine I crawled into your brother's bed and rested. Your dad decided to take the kids to see Despicable Me in the theater while I took a nap. I didn't feel well at all and you had been quiet for a bit. I rested while you rested. I woke up after they returned and felt no better. You were still quiet, I was worried. I decided to eat dinner and if that didn't perk you up I would head to the hospital.
Dinner came and went and I asked your dad to drive me right into the storm. I knew as we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital that I would not be coming home. This was the moment that I actually felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. As the nurses scanned my belly, faking that they didn't know how to use the machine properly as they waited for my doctor to arrive. My doctor came and delivered the news, and I was wheeled into a different room. They induced labor and so the wait began.
I waited for you, 3 long days. And when you came, though I felt empty and broken, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. You were placed in my arms, and my heart broken a million times over. Perfection, too beautiful for this life.
I thought the worst of the storm was over, little did I know that I was only laying low in the middle waiting for the worst to come. I took myself out of the eye of the storm and pressed forward, wading through the raging waters so that I could see the rainbow on the other side.
May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
~Irish Blessing
So while everyone spends their weekend barbequing, lighting off fireworks and spending time celebrating the birth of our nation, I silently celebrate the moments we had together. I quietly think about you. There are always tears, but there are smiles. And while I am shaking my fist at those shooting off fireworks at 3 AM, I am doing so with a thankful heart that you gave your life so that Bird could have hers.
I may not understand the why's or the how's but I believe that Bird was meant to be. I had made the choice that you would be my last baby and as time passes I find that I believe that Bird was still in waiting, and to keep me from making the wrong choice, you gave yourself so that she could live. So this independence day, I celebrate you, MY hero. MY baby. MY Harper.
I love you my sweet, sweet girl. More and more every day.
Love always,
Mommy
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there... I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow...
I am the diamond glints on snow...
I am the sunlight on ripened grain...
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you waken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of gentle birds in circling flight...
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry—
I am not there... I did not die...
It's Independence Weekend here in the great nation of the U.S. of A.. While most Americans are celebrating the birth of a nation I am celebrating the loss of a treasure.
July brings so many feelings for me. Vividly remembering our time together. Your pregnancy was anything but easy. Little did I know that the worst was only coming.
July 4, it was a beautiful day. I remember it vividly. I was on light activity, but it was a holiday so we were planning on going to the farm for a cookout. The sun was shining brightly, it was warm but not overly hot just yet. I rested on the swing on the patio while your brother and sister played in the yard. I was sluggish and tired but that was nothing new. The day went by smoothly, just taking it all in and thinking you would be with me the next 4th, you'd be nine months old and probably starting to cruise. Daydreaming of what was to come.
I slept well that night, which was a feat in itself. I had become restless worrying about you. In hindsight, worry is nothing but a waste of energy because what will be will be.
July 5, the sun was blaring early in the day. It was gorgeous. Your grandma had bought the kids a swimming pool to occupy their time. They were up early and begging me to join them in the pool. I didn't have a bathing suit so I meandered outside in my pajamas and slid down into the warm water. You immediately started kicking like crazy. The kids splashed wildly as you moved around my belly. Their little hands laying on my skin to feel you kicking. They giggled intensely at this, it was the first time they had ever felt you. You loved hearing them so happy, it only made you dance more.
This day stands out the most in my brain. This memory is one of the most vivid of the entire pregnancy. I have so many pictures from this day, your brother and sister playing in the pool and making goofy faces. These photos litter the house, but I want it no other way. They are memories from one of the happiest times of my life.
I went to bed that night, exhausted but feeling incredibly happy. I should have known that this was the calm before the storm. They say when you are on the verge of dying that you miraculously feel better in the days before passing. And I felt better than I had in weeks. I was so happy, energetic, and feeling over the top good. This was the eye of the storm. This was the calmest it would be before I weathered the worst to be.
You have to weather the storm to see the rainbow
The next few days passed as all the others, I was tired, and didn't do much other than lay in bed whilst your brother and sister played. Brianna was prepping for Kindergarten and was excited about school. (That quickly changed)
July 8, I went to the doctor for one of twice weekly visits. Everything seemed okay. There you were kicking away on the ultrasound, your heart rate happy and healthy. My OB had cleared me for light activities and had said I could ride with your dad to get the oil changed in the car. I came home and went back to bed as per my normal routine. I showed Kaden and Brianna your ultrasounds and we talked about how excited we were to meet you. Sleep went as usual that night.
July 9, the day that will live in infamy in our family. The day a piece of my soul died. The day I became incomplete. I woke up, and you were slow but active. We decided to head on to get the oil changed. You gave us a couple of big kicks before we left so I knew you were okay. We drove to the dealership to get the oil changed, my iPod blaring James Brown, your sister's choice. I danced in the seat of the car as we drove down the interstate. The only word to describe our family at that moment was happy. The trip took much longer than intended, I was tired. I was hungry and your siblings were too.
We made it home and had a snack, then as per my routine I crawled into your brother's bed and rested. Your dad decided to take the kids to see Despicable Me in the theater while I took a nap. I didn't feel well at all and you had been quiet for a bit. I rested while you rested. I woke up after they returned and felt no better. You were still quiet, I was worried. I decided to eat dinner and if that didn't perk you up I would head to the hospital.
Dinner came and went and I asked your dad to drive me right into the storm. I knew as we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital that I would not be coming home. This was the moment that I actually felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. As the nurses scanned my belly, faking that they didn't know how to use the machine properly as they waited for my doctor to arrive. My doctor came and delivered the news, and I was wheeled into a different room. They induced labor and so the wait began.
I waited for you, 3 long days. And when you came, though I felt empty and broken, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. You were placed in my arms, and my heart broken a million times over. Perfection, too beautiful for this life.
I thought the worst of the storm was over, little did I know that I was only laying low in the middle waiting for the worst to come. I took myself out of the eye of the storm and pressed forward, wading through the raging waters so that I could see the rainbow on the other side.
May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial.
For every problem life sends,
A faithful friend to share,
For every sigh, a sweet song,
And an answer for each prayer.
~Irish Blessing
So while everyone spends their weekend barbequing, lighting off fireworks and spending time celebrating the birth of our nation, I silently celebrate the moments we had together. I quietly think about you. There are always tears, but there are smiles. And while I am shaking my fist at those shooting off fireworks at 3 AM, I am doing so with a thankful heart that you gave your life so that Bird could have hers.
I may not understand the why's or the how's but I believe that Bird was meant to be. I had made the choice that you would be my last baby and as time passes I find that I believe that Bird was still in waiting, and to keep me from making the wrong choice, you gave yourself so that she could live. So this independence day, I celebrate you, MY hero. MY baby. MY Harper.
I love you my sweet, sweet girl. More and more every day.
Love always,
Mommy
Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there... I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow...
I am the diamond glints on snow...
I am the sunlight on ripened grain...
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you waken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of gentle birds in circling flight...
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry—
I am not there... I did not die...
May
God give you … For every storm, a rainbow, for every tear, a smile, for
every care, a promise, and a blessing in each trial. For every problem
life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh, a sweet song,
and an answer for each prayer. ~Irish Blessing - See more at:
http://cardsbysandrarose.com/product/general-get-well/51873-irish-get-well-wishes/#sthash.hjwbYMgm.dpuf
Tuesday, June 18, 2013
Survival of the Weakest
Dear Harper,
It has been 10 months since I last wrote to you, I haven't had the words. It is surreal to be approaching your third birthday. And in this moment I feel words pouring from my heart.
Ten months, so many things can shift and so many things can change. Life has kept me on my toes. I woke up, like an epiphany. I realized that I had been floating through life this last decade, not really ever coming or going. No plan of action in place, which is not like me. I always have a plan, I am a planner. I have been waking up, breathing, then going back to bed. Sure, there is activity in between but days began to meld into one another, weeks and months pass but no real concept of time because every day was the same mundane schedule. I was surviving, nothing more.
What does it mean? Surviving?
It has been 10 months since I last wrote to you, I haven't had the words. It is surreal to be approaching your third birthday. And in this moment I feel words pouring from my heart.
Ten months, so many things can shift and so many things can change. Life has kept me on my toes. I woke up, like an epiphany. I realized that I had been floating through life this last decade, not really ever coming or going. No plan of action in place, which is not like me. I always have a plan, I am a planner. I have been waking up, breathing, then going back to bed. Sure, there is activity in between but days began to meld into one another, weeks and months pass but no real concept of time because every day was the same mundane schedule. I was surviving, nothing more.
What does it mean? Surviving?
sur·vive
/sərˈvīv/
Verb
| |
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