Happy Birthday My Love

Dearest Harper,

Today marks four years since you crept into the world in a deafening silence. No cry, not a single breath, just silence so loud that it could shatter glass, and hearts. I remember those moments as if they were only yesterday, how could one not, the memory of you burnt into my brain as it were branded in with a hot iron. You. Were. Beautiful.

I held you, for hours, memorizing every inch of you, from your cap of black curly hair to how your fingers were long and slender, and perfect. It has been four years since I handed you over to our nurse for the last time. I watched her wheel you down the hall, and I thought to myself, how does anyone survive this? I watched the nurses take a piece of my soul, and I handed it over willingly because I had no other option. How does a mother survive giving back her child?

It has been four years since you died, since my heart was broken, and piece of me went with you. I understand that unless you have been through the loss of a child yourself, you don’t fully grasp the concept of the amount of grief a mother is burdened with.  It is an insurmountable task to overcome; in all honesty, a mother never gets over it. No matter what the reports from tests say, you feel some fault, some sort of failure because that is what your body is made for, to grow and nurture, and birth a child, and when your body fails you, and you lose a child, it is a sea of feelings you must wade through. Even the fathers of the babies lost do not quite understand what is happening in your head and heart, the battle that rages within.

Often, people ignore the subject because it is so taboo to talk about the baby that died. It is, at times, the elephant in the room that is seemingly invisible. I have watched as people tip toe around it, ignore it completely, and then there are those who have no comprehension of how far you’ve come in your journey and they criticize you for still being sad, even four years later. I am the first to tell you, I have more good days than bad, and those bad days are few and far between because I finally allowed myself to relish in the happiness of my little family, even if it is incomplete without you. But, I still have bad days, because I miss you. I would question my own self if this ever changed. I will always miss you because the heart wants what it wants and it wants you to be here so it can be complete again.

Criticizing grief is like throwing an anchor to a person who is already drowning

RaeAnn Fredrickson

I have my moments, we all do. My heart aches when I realize that I won’t ever hear your first word, see your first steps, or ever see you dance in a recital with your sisters. It leaves room for many moments of pondering. Wondering what your hair would look like, what your tiny voice would sound like, what your favorite show would be, would you like pirates like your baby sister? It is in these moments that a pang hits my heart because I miss you. And I realize that I will always be left with those things to wonder about. But this is my life; this is the path that has been chosen for me to walk down. Someone had to be the one in one million.

I have come a long way in the last four years. I went from being unable to escape my bed, to being unable to escape irrational fears of losing your sister, to watching your siblings grow into these beautiful little people, and being able to ENJOY it, it is something I never thought I would find again. I never thought that I would be able to be happy again. You showed me the way back to happiness, a way to honor your memory while still living my life. You guided me to where I am at today, helping me to find the silver lining in all the storm clouds that are sent my way. Last year RAK for Harper went international, and people all around the world took a moment to do a random act of kindness for someone in your honor. This made your birthday so meaningful. To know your name, your tiny life was celebrated all over the world. What mother would not be proud?

It is unbelievable that four years have passed since I last kissed the top of your head and breathed deeply your scent, whispering all those I love yous in your ear. I have so many things I never had the chance to tell you because I was riddled with the wounds of grief. I will settle for being able to tell you here. I love you Harper, more than words written could ever explain. You will always be my daughter, and that love will never change. I feel very lucky to have had the chance to be your mom.

If I had one wish for your birthday, it would be to send you all the love and kisses I have missed out on giving you over the last four years. One day, I can only hope that I get that chance.

Happy Birthday my sweet girl, I love you and I miss you.

Love,

Mommy

Independent Grief

Dear Harper, 

Today is July 4, 2014. It's scary, but I can remember exactly where I was and what I was doing four years ago today. The next few days are burned into my mind, as vivid as if they were only yesterday. 

We spent the day at the farm, and I didn't feel good. I did a lot of sitting because it was just too taxing to do much else. The kids played and lit fireworks, but I was just tired. Too tired to eat. To tired to sit. I was exhausted. 

It is four years later, and I am finding myself emersed in a sea of emotions. I am working on RAK for Harper to celebrate your life, but also mourning your death. I am unsure why, even as I write this with tears on the verge of spilling over onto my cheeks, this year has been the hardest so far. 

I am finding it difficult to sleep, difficult to eat, really, just difficult to function at the normal level. My aches and pains have worsened, dreams are more nightmarish and exhausting than not sleeping. 

Some say that it is your sister, seeing her doing things you should be doing but you can't because you're not here. Others say it is because I've had too much downtime. I think it is solely because I miss you. 

I think it is because life is finding it's natural rythm, leaving more time for my soul to finally process the hurt I am experiencing. 

In 5 days time, it will be four years since the doctor looked at me and said "I'm so sorry, kiddo. There is no heartbeat." And I think about how that makes me ache all over. No mother wants to give her child back and I was forced to do so. 

Fourth of July was a long and exhausting, if I had only known then what was coming...if I had only known, maybe I would have tried harder to enjoy myself at the cookout. 

July 5 was a much better day, I put on some shorts and baggy shirt, and I sat in the kiddie pool while your brother and sister splashed me. I think you really loved it, you were moving like crazy. The kids enjoyed it so much, our home is littered with pictures of them from that day. We were outside all day, soaking up the rays, talking about how life was going to change when you arrived...if we had only known. I would give anything to be that innocent again. To be free of the ever present grief. 

I feel like I have reached a point in my life, where I can truly grieve. I have time to begin to understand the heartache. I have time to process the emotions and work through them as they come. No longer do I have to frantically push them down and lock them away because I have kids who need me to be super mom. 

As I lay here, wide awake and exhausted at the same time, I cannot help but wander through those last few days with you. Remembering all of those fleeting moments. Realizing the finality in it all. I weep in intermittences without warning or provocation, because you're not here and I just miss you. 

Fireworks are booming in the distance and my heart is pounding to their beat as I lay here and wonder about you. How life could have been. I think it's the ever looming what ifs, and what could have beens that I miss almost as much as I miss you. You would be nearing four, we should be celebrating with a party suited for a princess, instead I am planning a memorial in your honor. 

My heart is hurting this year, and I can only say that I miss you more than these letters could ever begin to express. 

As those fireworks boom into the heavens with you please know that I love you with all I have and that I am here, remembering you, your precious face, and perfect tiny fingers and toes. 

I love you sweet bean, 

Mommy 

Life in the Slow Lane

Dear Harper,

July is just around the corner, and as I sit here, I wonder how it was able to pass so quickly, with the outside world barely noticing. It has been nearly four years since you left us, and that in itself, is ridiculous to think about. It has passed at an incredible rate, and I am still sitting here trying figuring things out.

I don't know that I will ever have everything figured out, most likely not. But what I have taken away from the last four years is this: Slow down and take each moment for what it is, a blessing. You taught me to slow down, and enjoy the little things because those little things are, actually, the really big things.

Life has changed over the course of the last 48 months, people moved, old friends left, new friends joined, a sister was added, birthdays and holidays have come and gone, and I take each moment as it is, a wonderful addition to this crazy thing we call life. How you have reminded me to slow down, to enjoy the walk, and to smell the roses.And, I have to say, those roses smell so sweet.

I think people forget how to slow down. I know they forget to take a breath and relish the moment they are in. They constantly think about the next moment, and where that will take them, wishing the time away as if it were something with an infinite amount to spare. Forgetting to live for now, not worrying about what is to come. To be quite honest, I was one of "those" people. I never had a moment to spare, impatient with everything, but something has happened in the last four years to change that. I walk slower, see clearer and experience everything, even those things I dreaded doing, with a new found enjoyment that comes from slowing life down.

Grief can assume many forms for any given person, it can be a dark and scary place, or it can be an eye opening, uplifting experience. The path in which a griever takes is solely up to them. Four years ago I started walking a very dark and scary path after you died. But, soon I found myself with child again, and the dark and scary path was no longer an option. I spent months in an indifferent state, and then one day it clicked. I could allow the grief I was experiencing to rule every move I ever make, and to overshadow everything that I was to do, or I could do something great with the emptiness and sadness I was feeling.

Four years after the all consuming grief monster came in to consume my soul, I emerged from the battle believing that I am a winner of sorts. IF you can consider coping with loss of your child a win. I slowed down and enjoyed the moments I had here with your brother and sisters. Watching them grow into beautiful young humans, who care. Giving them what they need to be honest, caring, goodhearted people. That is what the world was granted, what I was granted, in your death, a person who cares enough to try and change things. You gifted me a new breath of life, a new person emerged from the chrysalis of death.

I may never have a million dollars to donate to a charity, or the means to make the entire world a better place, BUT, I have the means to make my home a better place, the means to raise good children that will go on to do much greater things. (I have a feeling that they will be unstoppable.) I slowed down...I forget deadlines, I forget what I was supposed to be doing, I am usually late and some consider it a downfall. But the truth is, I forget about things because I am busy...busy having piles of laundry, a kitchen floor that inevitably needs to be swept, and busy playing with my kids. Watching them become these neat little people that have amazing ideas, and BIG dreams. It is worth missing an appointment, or clocking in a couple minutes late to see this. I have become "that" person that makes others on a schedule mad because you can't schedule how life happens.

We make plans, God laughs. I watched as my hopes and dreams fizzled out when you died. I had your whole tiny life planned and God had other plans. His plans are not always clear, but I think this was part of it. I suffered, possibly one of the biggest tragedies anyone can face, in order to become a better person, a better parent. To slow down and take a evening stroll all day long, to never miss those glimpses of the greatness of your brother and sisters. I spend my time trying to find ways to make their eyes glitter, and to make them laugh. I spend my time creating with them, bolstering their imagination and their dreams. I know too well how it feels to have your dreams shattered, and I will do anything to help keep that from happening. Even if it means I am dressing like a fairy princess and trying to fight Captain Hook, or staying up all hours of the night making tiny, tiny Polaroids of the Elf on the Shelf to keep them believing their elves are bad. Because those are the important things.

You taught me to slow down. You taught me to be an incredible fan of random acts of kindness. Smell the roses, then pick one and give it to someone, the smile that ensues is enough to change the world. Dollars in a pocket do not compare to the love in a heart, and my wallet is flat but my heart is full.

Thank you for all you are teaching me, my sweet bean.

I love you always, forever, and then some.

Love,

Mommy

Time does not heal all

Dear Harper,

It has been a while since I have written to you, not because I didn't want to write but because words would get jumbled and I couldn't quite figure out what I wanted to say. These letters I write are important and I don't ever want the message to get lost  in a mess of words.

It has been nearly four years since I had to say hello and goodbye in the same moment. Four years have passed in what feels like the blink of an eye. How has this much time passed since I held you in my arms for the only time, given mere moments to last me a lifetime? That, I cannot answer.

What I can answer is that nearly four years later I am still learning to live without you. Life continues to go on and I have had to learn how to continue on. The piece of my heart that went with you is still missing, but yet I still stand here before the world, breathing, even if only barely some days.

They say time heals all wounds but THIS IS A LIE. Time does not heal a wound that is soul-deep. What time does is teach you how to live WITH it. I have you on my mind all the time, carrying you with me as I walk this path. This journey is not one I would wish upon even my worst enemy because it is the hardest storm I have ever weathered. You learn how to live your life with this big gaping hole that never heals. This becomes your new normal, if normal can even exist in your lexicon. You do go on, but it is with new eyes, fresh lenses that show you what the world is worth, the beauty, sadness, reality and ugliness to it all.

You are no longer naive, you begin to see the ugly truths in the world, hidden amongst the shadows. For me, your sister came along very shortly after you, and this brought on a whole new view of having a baby. I cherished every second that I was pregnant, rarely slept, went completely natural during my pregnancy for fear that something would happen to her too.Everything scared me, made me nervous and I could barely think about anything else.  I couldn't fight that battle twice, I couldn't lose a second time. I was scared the whole time. And when she was born, I was scared because something might happen while I slept...so I never slept at night. I slept when others were keeping a very close eye on her. I don't think I slept a single night her entire first year and now...she's going to be three. Was it my pained vigilance that kept her here? I don't know but I wouldn't change it for a second. There are so many things in my past I would change but not who I was once you were gone.

Here we are, nearly four years later, and I am still learning how to cope, how to breathe, how to live without you. I have been working on ideas for your birthday. I am still promoting those random acts of kindness in your honor. I speak your name louder than ever before, because every time I don't, a little piece of you dies which means a little piece of me dies. And we can't have that. The world will know your name and it will echo on the whispers of the wind.

 I do not let your death define me. I do not let your death occupy all of my emotions and thoughts. I do not let your death control me. While some days are hard, when I realize that I will never think about getting papers together for you to start school, or if you would take ballet with your sisters, I can find a quiet peace in knowing that YOU WERE REAL. Your tiny foot left an imprint so deep no one could forget it. I rejoice in knowing you at all. There is beauty in that. Your death opened my eyes wider and brighter than they have ever been.

Some day, I will understand the pain that has been given to me in your loss. Until then, I keep breathing, keep walking, keep writing, in hopes that I can help someone else that is grieving their child. So they can begin to see that there is beauty in suffering, that GREAT things come from a great loss. You, my sweet bean, are doing greater things than I could have ever imagined.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain, when you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. ~Haruki Murakami

I love you darling girl,

I miss you,

Mommy

Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms. She is breathing but she is dying. She may look young, but inside she has become ancient. She smiles, but her heart sobs. She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS but she IS NOT, all at once. She is here but part of her is elsewhere for eternity. ~Unknown

How I Wish You Were Here

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

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

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. 

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

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

Suffering becomes beautiful when anyone bears great calamities with cheerfulness, not through insensibility but through greatness of mind. ~Aristotle

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.

• 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

There are so many many things you can do for your RAK!

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!

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.

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

so you want to be a writer?

  by Charles Bukowski

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.

- See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/16549#sthash.jluerwyL.dpuf

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...

 

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

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?

sur·vive  

/sərˈvīv/

Verb Continue to live or exist, esp. in spite of danger or hardship. Continue to live or exist in spite of (an accident or ordeal). In the last decade, I have been broke, I have been exhausted, I have been sad, I have been happy, I have hurt in ways unimaginable. I ran the gambit of emotions. But all in all, I just survive. I manage to make it to my next breath, my next moment. Waiting for that divine intervention to tell me what I needed to do. Months came and went. Then March came, I realized then that I am barely treading to keep my head above the water. I am a fighter, I had kept my head out of the water for 10 years. I was tired and I felt the surface beginning to hit my nose, I needed more than just surviving. Everyone said it was you, that losing you broke me. It wasn't you, it was before that. I am not sure exactly when I went from being who I was to this weak version of me. I have always been a fighter, and strong willed, and opinionated. It is who your dad fell in love with and who I had lost touch with.   Much of what your father fell in love with can be acredited to the fact that I am a Leo. My August birthday brought many things with it. Leos are usually generous, warmhearted,creative, enthusiastic, broad-minded, expansive, faithful, and loving. I can also be pompous, patronizing, bossy, dogmatic, and intolerant.Often my faults can be as large in scale as my virtues. I used to be such an optimist, seeing the silver lining in everything. But something shifted as the years passed, the older I got I became increasingly pessimistic. I became an overly negative person with an excessive temper. I saw this shift as weakness, angry at myself for becoming soft and soft spoken. So I went into survival mode, quick temper, flaring at most everything. So much so that even your brother and sister were afraid of me. No one wants to know that their own children are scared of them. And in this discovery I began shutting down, shutting out most everything and everyone.  So I decided to shake things up...      My mom has said I am the one who likes to shake things up. So I took the snow globe that is life and shook it as hard as I could, until all the little pieces shook loose and I watched as they fell back to the bottom. This moment of weakness, this moment of no regrets and no consequences was exactly what my life needed.  I am still watching the little pieces of snow fall into place, but I am happier than I have ever been. As these little pieces fall into place, I find moments of weakness, moments of pure strength and will, moments of absolute madness, and then there are moments of pure bliss. All of them lead to one thing, an enlightened heart, an opened mind, and a free spirit. There have been a lot of tears over the last few months, there have been laughs, and silence. They are all rebuilding me. If shaking the proverbial snow globe has done anything for me, it has shown me that emotions do not make you weak, they make you human. I feel alive again, my heart is pumping and I am seeing the world with new eyes, with a heart that is slowly being pieced back together with a new found ability to communicate openly and honestly. It was a grand delusion to believe that I was ever weak. Never, and I mean NEVER, allow yourself to believe that you are weak because what doesn't kill you makes you stronger. And I am stronger by the day. I love you sweet bean, Love, Mommy

After the Storm

Dear Harper,

It has been a while, I know. It's just that after I sent you birthday wishes I have been solemn in my thoughts for you. Not withdrawing but pensive. My birthday was just a month after yours. It is hard celebrating my birthday without you, and your sister takes a toll as well because her birthday is just the day before mine. This year I turned 30, and decided that I would try my hardest to make the best of my 30's.

In celebration of my birthday we went to see Mumford and Sons. To the innocent bystander this seems like a normal birthday proceeding but it was anything but. It was heart wrenching, beautiful, healing, a torrent of emotions inside me. Their music had been my saving grace on days I felt I couldn't cope.

Standing there and watching the opening bands I was getting pumped to see Mumford and Sons but the second that I heard the beginning of Little Lion Man I began to cry, tears flooded my eyes. I turned my phone on and videoed the set because I couldn't see and I didn't want to miss it. Your daddy cried too. It was such a beautiful release as we stood there on the waterfront watching them pour their souls into their music the way we poured our souls out to it.

After the first song we collected ourselves, we watched, we danced, we took pictures, we hugged and we enjoyed ourselves...never resting during their hour and half set. I felt so lifted and happy watching them. I ached for you to be there as we stood watching what has soothed my aching heart for months on end. They played old stuff and new stuff but a song was missing...THE song was missing. The Cave.

I was heartbroken as they said goodnight to the crowd and walked off stage for the 2nd time that night. The first was only to replace instruments broken during a song. This time it felt like they were done and I was at a loss. I was left wanting....needing to hear the cave. I guessed that the iPod would just have to do when we got back to the car. But something told me not to budge as we watched many start heading to the gate.  I wanted to hear The Cave and I wasn't leaving because I had a feeling.

Your daddy and I stood there and watched an empty stage with thousands of other onlookers waiting for the same thing we were waiting for. I felt my heart warming as I watched them file back out to their fans. The sound filled the air as I heard the music start and I was ready...I needed this.

I released all my feelings and cried freely as I stood there watching and hearing, feeling almost out of body as it wafted across the field. I heard nothing and saw nothing but that song, I felt free in that moment. Free of pain for just that five minutes. In that moment I knew for sure you had followed along with us. It was cold that night, overcast and a bit misty but my heart was warm.

I love you sweet Harper. You gave me the greatest birthday gift anyone could ask for, a release that I had needed for quite sometime.

I miss you my little darling...more than you could ever know.

Love,

Mommy

It's empty in the valley of your heart
The sun, it rises slowly as you walk
Away from all the fears
And all the faults you've left behind

The harvest left no food for you to eat
You cannibal, you meat-eater, you see
But I have seen the same
I know the shame in your defeat

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Cause I have other things to fill my time
You take what is yours and I'll take mine
Now let me at the truth
Which will refresh my broken mind

So tie me to a post and block my ears
I can see widows and orphans through my tears
I know my call despite my faults
And despite my growing fears

But I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

So come out of your cave walking on your hands
And see the world hanging upside down
You can understand dependence
When you know the maker's land

So make your siren's call
And sing all you want
I will not hear what you have to say

Cause I need freedom now
And I need to know how
To live my life as it's meant to be

And I will hold on hope
And I won't let you choke
On the noose around your neck

And I'll find strength in pain
And I will change my ways
I'll know my name as it's called again

Birthday Wishes

Dear Harper,

My heart breaks on a daily basis. It is an ache so intense that you feel you might implode on yourself. You forget everything but the pain. I flash to your beautiful face, so perfect, so angelic. Death would have been a welcomed relief in those hours. Remembering my heart hitting the floor when I handed you back for the last time, knowing I would never see you again but also knowing it was time to let go. In that moment, actually feeling your heart shatter into a million pieces, knowing it would never be whole again.

Flash forward two years, where has the time gone? How has it been two years since I laid in the hospital knowing you were not coming home with me, not in a way that I wanted. I wonder about the what ifs and who you would be.Would you have my curly hair or would you have straight hair like your daddy? Would you have blue eyes or green? Pigtails or not? All the things I see in my dreams.So many unanswered questions about you and who you are.

I have spent the last two years learning who I am without you. Learning to live with a piece missing from heart and soul. Learning how to walk tall and call myself your mother.  Giving myself wholly and loving more freely because I wanted everyone to know your love. To know the love of a child, never wavering, always constant, and completely unconditional. I stand up tall and strong, proudly saying your name. Showing people that it is possible to move on even without healing.  I have tried my hardest and even with my foul ups I think I am succeeding.

If I had one wish for your birthday it would be to show you the world, the love that fills it just for you. I try to experience that love for you. I try to see everything with new eyes for you. Experience everything for the first time for you. I am not dwelling on your death, I am relishing in your life. The taste of the icing on a cupcake, or licking the spoon after making brownies. The joy that is your sister beating on the pots and pans with spoons. Her ripping everything out of the drawers. It is all beautiful and it has been the most magical experience to see if from the eyes .

Of course if I had my way there would be a million and one wishes that I would have for you. Showing you the world, showing you a life of joy and meaning.  Watching you race across the yard with your brother and sister. Instead, two years have flown by before my eyes...two long and heart warming yet heartbreaking years. We released balloons today, as always, with letters to you and we watched as they were snatched from the sky into the heavens by your tiny hands. A sight most beautiful.

I stand here before you, my heart never healing yet learning how to live without you in my world. Signs of your presence come often and I always say "Message received sweet Bean, loud and clear." I know you reach to touch us and show us you are okay and they always come through, received with loving and open arms and for that I thank you.

You are such a beautiful girl, showing me how to live. I want to live every day of my life to make you proud to call me Momma. Every day that passes is one day closer to us meeting again, though I want to make sure my life is rich on experiences to share with you.

I am living, breathing proof that even when things don't heal, they are bearable, become easier to deal with. My heart still aches daily for you, but it is out of want and need but I can wake up and get out of bed because I know that is what you would want and need from me. I thank God every day for the gift of life so that I can make you proud sweet angel. My hope in life is to succeed.

Happy Birthday my sweet little Harper Bean. I want nothing more than you to know my love.

I love you and I miss you.

Love always & forever,

Mommy

Loving, even when I am broken

Dear Harper,

I've been sad lately. Really really sad. That's the only way to describe it. At first I thought it was  your approaching birthday, which that plays an integral role in all things in my life but it was just something I couldn't put my fingers on, I couldn't grasp what was causing this gaping wound of sadness deep inside me.

It's the intense need to be loved. It's the intense need for time to slow almost to a halt. Birdie just turned one, where is the time going? Your baby sister loves more intensely than I have seen in a while. Your big sister and brother have amazing hearts and would give you all the love in the world, but there is just something about her, a love that emanates from her like light from a bulb. 

When I was young I hid the part of myself that loved openly, I hid my heart away from those who could damage it. I cut throats and asked questions later, I thought that was how you survived and it worked for me for a while. After you, it's all about the give and take. It's about giving yourself wholly to someone when they need you and expecting that they will be there when you fall. I have never had many people like this, and after you, I gave my heart away, I loved freely and trusted freely. I still only let few in, I count them among my family.

Today, I sit here before you and the only word that can describe me at the moment is broken. I feel broken, like a chunk of my heart and soul is gone. I've made mistakes that possibly will never be forgiven. But it makes the pain no less. I still love openly, freely. I admit my faults here. I am but a human and all humans make errors in judgement.

When you fall in love with a man, you tell them they are your best friend but the truth is, a friendship with a woman is much more than all the things you tell your significant other. A friendship that is not based out of physical attraction is of more importance. You tell this person everything, you confide in them, you lean on them, you love them more openly and honestly and more intimately in ways that are different from that of a spouse or significant other. When these relationships end they leave you more raw and wanting that a break up. They rock you to your very core, they put your body through a whole different type of grieving experience than the standard "break up" or divorce does. I have had my fair share of those typical boyfriend break ups. I have never had someone that I loved so wholly leave me like this. The grief I am feeling is almost as much as I felt when I lost you.

I feel exhausted, I feel like someone reached in and ripped my heart right out. I find myself mourning this loss, like an extension of my body has shriveled up and died. I finally felt like I was breathing again, like I was starting to learn how to live without you. I have laughed harder and loved more intensely than I have in a long time but then like a smack in the face, this bomb drops right on me and I am left standing in the middle of the disaster zone picking up pieces. I am at fault for this, I understand completely but it makes the pain no less. I don't understand how to process these feelings.  It is moments like this realization that I am almost thankful you didn't have to go through all the hurts, pain and struggles life can throw at you. I would have loved for you to know the love and joy that can be found here, like Heaven on Earth but I would not want you to have to suffer the sorrows that are wrecking me right now.

I am me, still standing here, breathing even if only barely. You can take me for who I am or you can leave me. I love wholly and freely for those who are worthy of it. I protect my friends like they are my own, flesh of my flesh. I trust too far, I love too much and I give to often, but that's me. You can take me or leave me, but even when you leave me, when you look in the rear view, I'll still be standing there.

I am thankful you will never have to go through this. I love you Bean. I miss you.

Love always,

Mommy

The LBD Part 2

Dear Harper,

Things have been crazy but please know that I have not forgotten you. You are always in mind, especially as July comes nearer. I took a hiatus from writing, waiting for the words. You know I don't want to feel forced.

I wish you were here. You've had to watch from afar all the things you should be here for. Your sister's recital just happened. It was her first one, and what she wouldn't have given to have you there. You were there in spirit though, I felt you there.

I was rushing around the house all morning. I snatched Brianna out of bed and rushed her to Sammi so she could get her hair and make up done for recital. We had to be there no later than 12:30 so we were on a time crunch. Her hair and make up were so beautiful but I was still in my pajamas! We walked in the door, pulled Brianna's first outfit on and I went to get my hair and make up together. I only had 30 minutes to get ready.

Your grandma bought me a dress to wear, a cute black and white dress, shoes to match. It was going to be perfect, only when I put it on I felt miserable. I looked in the mirror, scoffing at the image looking back. My hair was good, my make up was as good as it could get for the rush but something was just off about the dress.

I quickly made my way to my room, to dig for ANYTHING else to wear. I tried on shoes with the dress Grandma bought but was still not happy. I put on a hundred things with it and just nothing suited me. I didn't want to even go at this point, I had 5 minutes to get dressed and out the door. I sat on the edge of the bet, almost pouting, almost sobbing.

I stared at the closet begging it to give me an idea, ANY inspiration. And there it was...the little black dress. I shimmied out of the clothes that I had on and quickly slipped it over my head. It was a bit loose but I felt wonderful putting it on. It clings to all the right spots, loose in all the others, gives me a nice neckline. It fits perfect. I had to wear flip flops with it because my heels were nowhere to be found, turns out that it was perfect.

Nothing felt better than walking out the door in that little black dress. Grandma eyed me suspiciously but she understood when I gave her the look. We took our seats at the recital and it was almost as if I could tell you were there watching her, giving her the confidence to get on stage.

The last couple of weeks and the next couple are the hardest ones every year. Life without you has gone on in a way but there is always a spot where you should be. An emptiness that can't be filled. My heart has this shadow where you fit, and while you're there it's not the way I want it, but is it ever?

Thank you sweet Bean for pointing out that dress again. I miss you, I love you.

Love you Harper. Always and forever. Until we meet again, I will keep writing.

Love,

Mommy

Her name is Karen...

Dear Harper,

I went to spend last Saturday with your Auntie Karen. I have been needing this time with her for a while, she always has a level head, calm, cool and collected, unless there is a spider involved and then it's any one's guess as to how she may behave.

I have been lonesome lately, which is crazy because our house is so full, full of people and full of love. So crazy hectic that it is hard to be lonesome. I have been lonesome as in I miss my second daughter. My heart is aching for you. It seems so incredibly true that the closer your second birthday comes the more lonely I feel in the pain and misery I am experiencing. Distractions are offered, but none work. I needed a day with Karen.

I took your sisters with me and we met Karen for coffee. I have missed coffee, I got a drink I hadn't had in almost a decade, it was so sweet and delicious. The perfect setting for my time with your aunt. After the hour or so over coffee my heart was still heavy and there were things I needed her opinion on so we went to a near by park, while your sister played I aired my grievances, I teared up, I explained my heavy heart, I laughed...oh it felt so good to laugh in her company. My heart was feeling lighter by the minute. The sky opened up and few drops of rain fell, it was like you were weeping with me on Saturday...like you needed a good cry too.

Your big sister needed to go potty so we went to Karen's house and I was able to unwind on her porch and just mellow for a moment. Few words were spoken as we watched Brianna tip toe through the yard bringing us all the things she found. We laughed as she spied on the neighbor boys, and as she swatted mulberries with a stick. Your baby sister sat in my lap making all kinds of faces and noises to make us laugh. It was nice to stew over the conversations we had in the quiet of her home. 

I have very few people that I am as close to as I am Karen. She is my "person", she knows me better than I know myself and she can feel it when I am aching inside, usually calling me on it with a text that says "Are you okay?". She is the big sister I never had, one of my oldest and dearest friend, and I feel lucky to call her that. And when writing doesn't work for me, when crying in the bed doesn't work for me, when your daddy's or Nana's shoulder doesn't work for me, a Karen hug does. It almost as if she helps to validate my emotions, to let me know that my gut instincts are correct, she always has a good idea on how to handle them and how to move forward. She is Karen.

I wish you could know Karen, to know of her love. She loves your siblings like her own, she loves freely for you all. I wish you could know a lot of things, I wish you were here sweet Bean.

I miss you so terribly much, I love you even more than that.

I love you little Bean,

Mommy

Little Black Dress

Dear Harper,

Sunday your baby sister turned 11 months old. How can this be? I was just holding you, I was just about to turn 28 and now here I am, about to turn 30 and you would be about to turn 2. Life is flashing away before my eyes. My friend Sarah in Texas said she calls it "2nd year blues" and I think she is right. Her son, Max and you share a birthday.

Sunday was also International Bereaved Mother's Day and it was River's birthday. My heart was laden with love and prayers for Deanna that the day would be easy on her.  What a day already...We were going to spend the day with Sammi & Mallory for our standing date Sunday. I got in the car to go and "She Talks to Angels" by the Black Crowes was on the radio...fitting.

Our friends, Elisha and Daniel, welcomed their second child into the world on Sunday as well, sweet baby Mason. I had gotten the text that her water had broken before we left to go to Sammi's but she was having trouble with labor stopping and so on. I thought it would be Monday before he was born,I was determined to go see her when he was born, that's what friends do, they see each other when their babies are born...they see each other when they die too. Daniel came to see us at the funeral home instead of a hospital with you.

I was looking for something to wear to the hospital. I had been with Sammi & Mallory all day, I had on my old sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt, unacceptable to wear to the hospital. My jeans were in the laundry and it was turning out to just be one of those days where none of my clothes were fitting right...it was a sweat pants day. Sammi was keeping the girls so I could go down and see Mason (and his momma) and I had to find something to wear.

Your daddy sat on the bed in our room watching me filter through everything in the laundry basket and everything in my dresser, even my yoga pants were dirty. I finally gave up and went to the closet, I thought I might be able to find something in there. I did...I found a hefty serving of heartache.

As I was slipping my fingers over the hangers and moving them from the left to the right looking to see what I had that I could wear to the hospital I saw something black in the very back that I hadn't remembered seeing there all the countless times I looked in there. I move everything to the right so I can pull it out, wondering what it is, only to find that it was the dress I wore to your funeral...a little black dress.

The dress had been purchased, I remember the day I bought it, with the intent to wear to your baby shower. We were doing something elegant for you, something like a tea and I wanted to wear a nice dress. It hung in Kaden's closet forever, because I was living in his room while you were in my belly, I wasn't allowed to do stairs. I bought it the same day that Mom bought the invitations to your shower. So much hope, so much intention.

I held the hanger up, the dress hangs solemnly off of it. I turn it and look at the front and back as tears fall down my face. It was like watching all the intentions of that little black dress fall to the floor. The song "Lightning Crashes" by Live was running through my brain. I felt it through my whole body. I hung the dress back in the closet and stood there, staring at it. My heart was beating sporadically because I wasn't expecting something so small to do so much to me...but then again you were so small and took my heart.

Sunday, it's a day of rest, and for me it was a day of mourning, a day of rejoicing, a day of sorrow and a day of joy. That little black dress left me in a daze and thrown for a loop...I cried all the way to the hospital to see Mason.Second year blues seems so fitting...

Terrible twos aren't just for babies anymore are they?

Time goes on and I can breathe, and I can function without but Sunday...the grief just washed me in a stain of black...a veil of grief. I love you Bean, I miss you so much.

Love always,

Mommy