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
Showing posts with label god. Show all posts
Showing posts with label god. Show all posts
Friday, June 27, 2014
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, September 11, 2012
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
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
Thursday, July 12, 2012
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
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
Monday, June 25, 2012
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
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
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
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
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
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Fear....less
Dear Harper,
It's funny, we are approaching 22 months since you left my arms. You would think that the longer you are gone the easier it would be for me to live. That's not the case, I am fearful that I won't remember your smell, your face, you tiny hands and feet. I am fearful that I will forget what you felt like in my arms.
These fears make the pain magnified. It makes my chest want to implode because it is hard to breathe, it hurts, it makes my heart work twice as hard to beat. It is in these moments when I hold my head up and realize that I can move on, that the fears are invalid. I look at pictures and see your face. I can hold your blanket when I need to remember your scent. It is forever engrained into my soul, the way you smelled. Like newborn baby, before a bath and that standard pink baby lotion combined to make the most heavenly smell, your scent. Yours and yours alone. None of your siblings smelled like that, it is only you. I forget often, just how light you were in my arms. I see the tiny clothes on the wall in my house and remember just how small and fragile you were. Life flashes before my eyes, all those moments with you played out again, my heart stops, even if just for that moment.
I let the tears fall freely for you. To stop them makes the pain worse. To hinder them is like trying to hide my love for you. The more days that pass the more those fears arise in me. I really thought things would be easier this year and they are not. I think it is because I am watching your baby sister do all the things you should be doing. I am overjoyed because I get to be excited for her milestones, but also saddened because I am missing yours.
I wanted you so bad. I want you before I knew I had you. I loved you with every ounce of my being the moment that test said "pregnant". I loved you while I laid in the hospital, in labor with you, knowing you weren't coming home. I love you still, I love you like you are here. I am so scared that I am going to forget all of the things from your birth. All the pain, the heartache but also the joy because you were so perfect and beautiful.
The fear of forgetting makes the pain ten fold. You won't ever let me forget though, you are always here by my side, in the good times and the bad, you are here, never letting me forget how much I love you. I see you everyday in your sister's smile, or Birdie's giggle. I love you Bean, never forget that.
I love you, always & forever.
Mommy
It's funny, we are approaching 22 months since you left my arms. You would think that the longer you are gone the easier it would be for me to live. That's not the case, I am fearful that I won't remember your smell, your face, you tiny hands and feet. I am fearful that I will forget what you felt like in my arms.
These fears make the pain magnified. It makes my chest want to implode because it is hard to breathe, it hurts, it makes my heart work twice as hard to beat. It is in these moments when I hold my head up and realize that I can move on, that the fears are invalid. I look at pictures and see your face. I can hold your blanket when I need to remember your scent. It is forever engrained into my soul, the way you smelled. Like newborn baby, before a bath and that standard pink baby lotion combined to make the most heavenly smell, your scent. Yours and yours alone. None of your siblings smelled like that, it is only you. I forget often, just how light you were in my arms. I see the tiny clothes on the wall in my house and remember just how small and fragile you were. Life flashes before my eyes, all those moments with you played out again, my heart stops, even if just for that moment.
I let the tears fall freely for you. To stop them makes the pain worse. To hinder them is like trying to hide my love for you. The more days that pass the more those fears arise in me. I really thought things would be easier this year and they are not. I think it is because I am watching your baby sister do all the things you should be doing. I am overjoyed because I get to be excited for her milestones, but also saddened because I am missing yours.
I wanted you so bad. I want you before I knew I had you. I loved you with every ounce of my being the moment that test said "pregnant". I loved you while I laid in the hospital, in labor with you, knowing you weren't coming home. I love you still, I love you like you are here. I am so scared that I am going to forget all of the things from your birth. All the pain, the heartache but also the joy because you were so perfect and beautiful.
The fear of forgetting makes the pain ten fold. You won't ever let me forget though, you are always here by my side, in the good times and the bad, you are here, never letting me forget how much I love you. I see you everyday in your sister's smile, or Birdie's giggle. I love you Bean, never forget that.
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.
Mommy
Monday, April 30, 2012
Heavy...
Dear Harper,
My heart is heavy today...not totally sure why, I know it's because I miss you. I know it's because I want you here with me.
I am missing you and it makes me hurt so badly. I am hurting for little baby Leah who has been fighting for her life since her birth, and it's a daily battle to keep her here. I watch her mom and dad constantly find strength to carry on. I watch my news feed on Facebook for new pictures of her because she is the most darling little girl. I watch them suffer and it makes me hurt for you. It makes me long to hold you again. It makes me want to reach out to hug them but I know can't because they are so far away.
I think it could also be because there is a mom in Texas fighting for twins' lives. I am hurting for her because I don't want her to suffer the pain I know all too well. This pain is not one I would wish upon my worst enemy. Here I am, nearly 2 years later, hurting still. This is not something I want for Diana or twin boys. I prayed for her this morning, and I have thought over and over today that I wish I could send you to her, to watch over her until her babies reach 24 weeks. I don't know her, but I cried for her because I have been where she is right now. We kept praying to just reach 30 weeks and you would be delivered and tiny but you would make it.It takes a strong woman to hold hope like that, to be an advocate for someone you have only known through wiggles, kicks and heartburn, but then again it so easy to advocate for someone you love. She is so brave for what she is going through.
I read an article about a baby who was born with a disease that will kill her before her 2nd birthday, or so they say. Her story made me sob uncontrollably because I could not imagine holding you in my arms knowing that you may die at any minute. How strong are they? They are Hercules in my book.
Before you lose a baby you never hear much of it, it is so taboo to talk of such things. After you lose a baby you hear about it all the time. I was so shocked to see how many women in my community, women that I went to school with are wearing that same pair of shoes that I wear. It is not a club I wanted to join, but I was chosen to join.
Sometimes, when I am sitting here my chest gets tight while I try to write these letters. My eyes well up with tears. I ache for your, to hold you, to know who you would have been. It's a heavy, the loss of a baby, the loss of a child. It is like a pair of concrete boots that weigh you down but let you continue on in life.
This weekend is my friend Deanna's charity run & ride for her son River. I am guessing you know River, I think you guys brought us together so we could support one another. There are no accidents in things like this, everything is planned, sneaky little kids. It makes me smile when I think about the things you get in to while waiting for us. I want you to be there for her too, she will need you all to hold her up, she will need your wings.
I hate asking so much of you baby girl, but I know you know who needs you the most.I will send all the prayers I can. I always say them in your name. You do so much good for someone so little.
I miss you so much that when my tears fall it feels like my heart is breaking for you all over again.
I love you Bean,
Mommy
Hearts for Diana
Princess Leah's Story
River's Run & Ride Rally facebook event
River's Rally Website
My heart is heavy today...not totally sure why, I know it's because I miss you. I know it's because I want you here with me.
I am missing you and it makes me hurt so badly. I am hurting for little baby Leah who has been fighting for her life since her birth, and it's a daily battle to keep her here. I watch her mom and dad constantly find strength to carry on. I watch my news feed on Facebook for new pictures of her because she is the most darling little girl. I watch them suffer and it makes me hurt for you. It makes me long to hold you again. It makes me want to reach out to hug them but I know can't because they are so far away.
I think it could also be because there is a mom in Texas fighting for twins' lives. I am hurting for her because I don't want her to suffer the pain I know all too well. This pain is not one I would wish upon my worst enemy. Here I am, nearly 2 years later, hurting still. This is not something I want for Diana or twin boys. I prayed for her this morning, and I have thought over and over today that I wish I could send you to her, to watch over her until her babies reach 24 weeks. I don't know her, but I cried for her because I have been where she is right now. We kept praying to just reach 30 weeks and you would be delivered and tiny but you would make it.It takes a strong woman to hold hope like that, to be an advocate for someone you have only known through wiggles, kicks and heartburn, but then again it so easy to advocate for someone you love. She is so brave for what she is going through.
I read an article about a baby who was born with a disease that will kill her before her 2nd birthday, or so they say. Her story made me sob uncontrollably because I could not imagine holding you in my arms knowing that you may die at any minute. How strong are they? They are Hercules in my book.
Before you lose a baby you never hear much of it, it is so taboo to talk of such things. After you lose a baby you hear about it all the time. I was so shocked to see how many women in my community, women that I went to school with are wearing that same pair of shoes that I wear. It is not a club I wanted to join, but I was chosen to join.
Sometimes, when I am sitting here my chest gets tight while I try to write these letters. My eyes well up with tears. I ache for your, to hold you, to know who you would have been. It's a heavy, the loss of a baby, the loss of a child. It is like a pair of concrete boots that weigh you down but let you continue on in life.
This weekend is my friend Deanna's charity run & ride for her son River. I am guessing you know River, I think you guys brought us together so we could support one another. There are no accidents in things like this, everything is planned, sneaky little kids. It makes me smile when I think about the things you get in to while waiting for us. I want you to be there for her too, she will need you all to hold her up, she will need your wings.
I hate asking so much of you baby girl, but I know you know who needs you the most.I will send all the prayers I can. I always say them in your name. You do so much good for someone so little.
I miss you so much that when my tears fall it feels like my heart is breaking for you all over again.
I love you Bean,
Mommy
Hearts for Diana
Princess Leah's Story
River's Run & Ride Rally facebook event
River's Rally Website
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
Multiplied
Dear Harper,
My friend Keri seems to have said it best when she captioned a picture of her rainbow on facebook "The love I feel for you always seems to be multiplied by two..."
When I look at your baby sister I feel this way. I feel all the love I have for you plus the love I have for her. Looking at her makes me so thankful and then I get even more thankful that I was given you, even if only for a brief moment.
I find you everywhere, in every beam of sunlight trickling into our house, in the quiet laughter of your big sister and her friends. I find you in the explosion of toys your baby sister leaves in her wake. I find you in the sparkle of your brother's eyes. You are there and I feel love that is multiplied by two.
I find you in the storm, you are a guiding light to get me through. I find you when things go just right, or when I am running late and need a parking space, you are always just right there as my ever loving, guiding hand. My heart swells, and often as do the tears. You are there.
I find you in the breeze as it whispers your name, I find you in the leaves rustling the same. I find you in pennies in parking lots, and I find you in the clouds in the sky. Every where I go, you are there and my love is multiplied by two.
Even though you are not with me I find you in everything. I find you in my joy, I find you in my pain. I find you in the sun and I find you in the rain. And though you are not in my arms, I find you in my heart.
I love you Bean.
Love,
Mommy
My friend Keri seems to have said it best when she captioned a picture of her rainbow on facebook "The love I feel for you always seems to be multiplied by two..."
When I look at your baby sister I feel this way. I feel all the love I have for you plus the love I have for her. Looking at her makes me so thankful and then I get even more thankful that I was given you, even if only for a brief moment.
I find you everywhere, in every beam of sunlight trickling into our house, in the quiet laughter of your big sister and her friends. I find you in the explosion of toys your baby sister leaves in her wake. I find you in the sparkle of your brother's eyes. You are there and I feel love that is multiplied by two.
I find you in the storm, you are a guiding light to get me through. I find you when things go just right, or when I am running late and need a parking space, you are always just right there as my ever loving, guiding hand. My heart swells, and often as do the tears. You are there.
I find you in the breeze as it whispers your name, I find you in the leaves rustling the same. I find you in pennies in parking lots, and I find you in the clouds in the sky. Every where I go, you are there and my love is multiplied by two.
Even though you are not with me I find you in everything. I find you in my joy, I find you in my pain. I find you in the sun and I find you in the rain. And though you are not in my arms, I find you in my heart.
I love you Bean.
Love,
Mommy
Monday, March 19, 2012
Acceptance...
Dear Harper,
I need to talk to you, I need to tell you about grief, about my grief. I recently saw a picture that was the stages of grief. It supposedly comes in seven stages.
Denial seemed to pass very quickly though, apparently my mind is one of action, and all of a sudden as I was slowly trying to make the proper phone calls all I could do was try to bargain with God. I asked him to take me, you needed to live. I begged, I told God that I would do anything for you to live. Bargaining was taking place for the next several hours. I bargained anything and everything that I could think of just for you.
Then as they wheeled me from one room to my private room where I would labor to have you, bargaining left. They gave me medicine to ease the pain and it didn't help. They gave me medicine to induce labor, and after everyone left the room and all was quiet God and I made a bargain, while the bargain I would make would not bring you back to me, it would allow you to live on forever because I wouldn't let anyone forget your name. I asked God to bring me through this pain, I asked God to allow me the strength to make peace with your death. I bargained with him to help me so that I could help others. I decided I would not live in anger from your death, but peace so that I could help others going through the same losses that I was enduring.
It took almost 3 full days for me to be in active labor to deliver you. There weren't a lot of feelings in those 3 days because the hospital and doctors kept me so well medicated that I am not sure that I knew totally what was going on. But then you were born, your sweet face was there for me to look at and the depression set in. I held you and I was proud just like when your older sister and brother were born. I showed you off to my family and a select handful of friends. You were BEAUTIFUL. But I had to give you back, and I would never see you again, not here in this life anyway. I wanted to die, I wanted to curl up and die. I was sad and the medications they gave me didn't work. I laid in bed for days, I only had days to be on my own because your daddy had to go back to work and so did grandma and grandpa. It was the summer, I had your big sister and brother to watch after. I was still very sad, I laid on the couch and let them destroy the house without a care in the world. People came and went and I am not sure that I even noticed. Your sister had a birthday and I don't remember it..I was depressed and I was a non-existent mom in that time.
You were born July 12, 2010 and your memorial service was on July 15, 2010. I laid in bed, on the couch, wherever I could and always in my pajamas for almost a month. But then it was time for Kaden & Brianna to start school and it just snapped me out of it. I threw myself into volunteering for Brianna's class and that helped. It helped me start getting my body back into shape, and getting out of my funk. I still missed you terribly but I was feeling okay.
Anger came in between depression and guilt. Every time I saw on the news someone who was mistreating a child I would go crazy. I was angry because I knew someone who didn't take care of herself while she was pregnant, she smoked, drank, and did drugs but she got to go home with her healthy baby. It made me angry I had to give my baby to God while she did nothing good for her body pregnancy but her baby went home healthy. I would NEVER wish the loss of a child upon even my worst enemy, but I was angry at how unfair it seemed to be. I know stillbirth does not discriminate but I was angry that she didn't seem to want her child like I wanted you and she got to keep her baby and I had to give you up. I had to hurt for you, I had to spend my life without you and that made me mad.
Obsession really set in when I came home. Your sister and I were in the hospital for a week after her birth and I was okay while I was there but when we came home it was just me. I stayed up all hours of the night, watching every breath she took. I watched every little thing she did. No blankets, no heavy sleepers. I would sleep during the day when someone else could watch her so I could be up all night with her. I didn't obsess over your death, just found something to shift that obsession over to. It took 7 months before I would let her sleep with me watching with a blanket. The obsession made my body physically tired, you could see the lack of sleep all over me. I obsessed over every little thing with her.
She is now 9 months old, you would be 20 months old. I have accepted that there are things I cannot change about life. I have accepted that I am a baby loss mom. I have accepted that while I will never heal from this wound it is okay for me to live my life. I accept that I may not understand everything, but I do know everything does happen for a reason. I accepted that you are not here with me in this life but we will be together again one day. It has done a great deal for me because I feel like since I have accepted your passing, even without full understanding, that I can celebrate you in a better way. I have taken your death, moved forward and never let your name be forgotten. I stand here as a shoulder for other bereaved parents, an ear for their cries. And I'll never let you be forgotten.
I accept that you are my angel, and I feel okay with that. I miss you but I am okay.
I love you sweet Bean.
Love,
Mommy
I need to talk to you, I need to tell you about grief, about my grief. I recently saw a picture that was the stages of grief. It supposedly comes in seven stages.
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Guilt
- Obsession
- Acceptance
Denial seemed to pass very quickly though, apparently my mind is one of action, and all of a sudden as I was slowly trying to make the proper phone calls all I could do was try to bargain with God. I asked him to take me, you needed to live. I begged, I told God that I would do anything for you to live. Bargaining was taking place for the next several hours. I bargained anything and everything that I could think of just for you.
Then as they wheeled me from one room to my private room where I would labor to have you, bargaining left. They gave me medicine to ease the pain and it didn't help. They gave me medicine to induce labor, and after everyone left the room and all was quiet God and I made a bargain, while the bargain I would make would not bring you back to me, it would allow you to live on forever because I wouldn't let anyone forget your name. I asked God to bring me through this pain, I asked God to allow me the strength to make peace with your death. I bargained with him to help me so that I could help others. I decided I would not live in anger from your death, but peace so that I could help others going through the same losses that I was enduring.
It took almost 3 full days for me to be in active labor to deliver you. There weren't a lot of feelings in those 3 days because the hospital and doctors kept me so well medicated that I am not sure that I knew totally what was going on. But then you were born, your sweet face was there for me to look at and the depression set in. I held you and I was proud just like when your older sister and brother were born. I showed you off to my family and a select handful of friends. You were BEAUTIFUL. But I had to give you back, and I would never see you again, not here in this life anyway. I wanted to die, I wanted to curl up and die. I was sad and the medications they gave me didn't work. I laid in bed for days, I only had days to be on my own because your daddy had to go back to work and so did grandma and grandpa. It was the summer, I had your big sister and brother to watch after. I was still very sad, I laid on the couch and let them destroy the house without a care in the world. People came and went and I am not sure that I even noticed. Your sister had a birthday and I don't remember it..I was depressed and I was a non-existent mom in that time.
You were born July 12, 2010 and your memorial service was on July 15, 2010. I laid in bed, on the couch, wherever I could and always in my pajamas for almost a month. But then it was time for Kaden & Brianna to start school and it just snapped me out of it. I threw myself into volunteering for Brianna's class and that helped. It helped me start getting my body back into shape, and getting out of my funk. I still missed you terribly but I was feeling okay.
Anger came in between depression and guilt. Every time I saw on the news someone who was mistreating a child I would go crazy. I was angry because I knew someone who didn't take care of herself while she was pregnant, she smoked, drank, and did drugs but she got to go home with her healthy baby. It made me angry I had to give my baby to God while she did nothing good for her body pregnancy but her baby went home healthy. I would NEVER wish the loss of a child upon even my worst enemy, but I was angry at how unfair it seemed to be. I know stillbirth does not discriminate but I was angry that she didn't seem to want her child like I wanted you and she got to keep her baby and I had to give you up. I had to hurt for you, I had to spend my life without you and that made me mad.
Obsession really set in when I came home. Your sister and I were in the hospital for a week after her birth and I was okay while I was there but when we came home it was just me. I stayed up all hours of the night, watching every breath she took. I watched every little thing she did. No blankets, no heavy sleepers. I would sleep during the day when someone else could watch her so I could be up all night with her. I didn't obsess over your death, just found something to shift that obsession over to. It took 7 months before I would let her sleep with me watching with a blanket. The obsession made my body physically tired, you could see the lack of sleep all over me. I obsessed over every little thing with her.
She is now 9 months old, you would be 20 months old. I have accepted that there are things I cannot change about life. I have accepted that I am a baby loss mom. I have accepted that while I will never heal from this wound it is okay for me to live my life. I accept that I may not understand everything, but I do know everything does happen for a reason. I accepted that you are not here with me in this life but we will be together again one day. It has done a great deal for me because I feel like since I have accepted your passing, even without full understanding, that I can celebrate you in a better way. I have taken your death, moved forward and never let your name be forgotten. I stand here as a shoulder for other bereaved parents, an ear for their cries. And I'll never let you be forgotten.
I accept that you are my angel, and I feel okay with that. I miss you but I am okay.
I love you sweet Bean.
Love,
Mommy
Friday, February 17, 2012
By Grace Alone....
Dear Harper,
I have never been much of "group share" kind of person. I don't want to sit in a circle and say "Hello, My name is Sarah and I lost a child." The whole concept of that was foreign to me when you died. I knew right away that I couldn't benefit from that, and it would only sadden my heart further. I did join several online support groups where we could just basically blog or status whatever we were feeling and there were a million hands just like mine stepping up to virtually pat my back or hug me. I never really posted much on any of them, still don't even though I am still a member. Mostly I comb through the stories and I cry at almost every single on I read. It is a release that I need and some would say that it is torturing myself to do this but I need it. I need to know that I am not alone in this grief, and more so that I am not crazy for crying at random.
More therapeutic than that though is creating. When I was in college I was an English/Journalism major. Writing has and always will be one of my strong points, though as the years pass and the distance between me and my college years grows further I am noticing more in my grammatical errors. It used to be a pet peeve, now it seems I just pound away at the keyboard to get it all out, punctuation mistakes and all. Writing has been so incredibly releasing for me. I get to talk to you whenever I want and I can tell you all the things I need to make sure you know before my time comes. There is no urgency here though, I can tell you slowly or quickly, whatever my heart is feeling at the moment.
Not only have I found an outlet for my pain in my letters to you but in creating something that came years before you were even a gleam in my eye. I have been making accessories for little girls since your big sister Brianna was a wee tot. Only recently, when you were found lurking in my womb, I started painting. When I read that back it seems funny to say it that way, I started painting...it makes it sound like I am in the Sistine Chapel and painting works of Gods on the ceilings. Nope, not me, when I started painting it was just some unfinished wooden letters, more importantly, the letters H, A, R, P, E, and another R.
I found out on June 3, 2010 at 12:30 PM that you were in fact the girl that I had suspected, that the Chinese gender chart told me to expect and what your daddy had said not moments after that test turned positive. I had the perfect name for my Bean, Harper Lynn. A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl that was going to be here in just a few short months! Your daddy immediately took me to the craft store so I could buy letters to paint for you to have hanging above your crib. I had bought Brianna's first set but knew that I could do it because nothing out there suited my tastes for you.
I started my project the night we came home with the funky retro letters and the hot pink paint. I primed and then base coated them. Brianna had dots on her letters and I just didn't feel like dots suited you, you needed more. It came to me exactly what I wanted and the paint began to flow on to them. You would have the pink letters with white daisies. I felt like you were a free spirit...little did I know, huh? I finished them that night, and your daddy hung them the next day right over your crib. They were perfect just like you.
In the weeks following your death (again, a funny thing, to see death in a blog of letters to my daughter) I moved the letters to the living room so I could see them all the time. I displayed your birth certificate and foot prints along with a handful of black and white pictures of you. Above your pictures was a tiny plaque that read "By Grace Alone..." I was so unsure of what it meant but I knew it was perfect there. Also in those weeks I found it difficult to do anything, I quit working on the bows and stuff that had kept me wildly busy while I was pregnant. I let it all go for a while but then I found out that I was expecting your sister and I knew it was time for Grace to take me where I wouldn't lose my sanity. I began creating again. I made hats and named them after you, Harper's Haute Couture. The bows had been named after Brianna for some time and I thought it was only fair to name that part for you since technically you wore the first hat I ever created. But it was also time for more.
Over the course of the 38 weeks I was pregnant with your sister I began painting letters again. I painted for friends and for people who loved my bows and loved the pictures they saw. I painted letters for A LOT of nurseries. I realized how releasing it could be for me. I painted polka dots, striped, but never flowers. Flowers were left for you. I redid your sister Brianna's letters once I found out that the rainbow baby we were expecting was another girl. Hers were with butterflies and Harlyn's were with tiny birds, still no flowers. It has been 19 and a half months since you passed away and there were no flowers on letters until tonight.
girly and something you would be proud of.
It made me realize what By Grace Alone meant as I put the final touches on Faith's letter and it can be summed up in one statement...
You will never let me forget that I am always protected by Grace Alone. I love you Harper, and I am glad that you will always know that. It grows more and more everyday.
Thanks for my flowers tonight, you always seem to know what I need. So much like your brother.
Love,
Mommy
I have never been much of "group share" kind of person. I don't want to sit in a circle and say "Hello, My name is Sarah and I lost a child." The whole concept of that was foreign to me when you died. I knew right away that I couldn't benefit from that, and it would only sadden my heart further. I did join several online support groups where we could just basically blog or status whatever we were feeling and there were a million hands just like mine stepping up to virtually pat my back or hug me. I never really posted much on any of them, still don't even though I am still a member. Mostly I comb through the stories and I cry at almost every single on I read. It is a release that I need and some would say that it is torturing myself to do this but I need it. I need to know that I am not alone in this grief, and more so that I am not crazy for crying at random.
More therapeutic than that though is creating. When I was in college I was an English/Journalism major. Writing has and always will be one of my strong points, though as the years pass and the distance between me and my college years grows further I am noticing more in my grammatical errors. It used to be a pet peeve, now it seems I just pound away at the keyboard to get it all out, punctuation mistakes and all. Writing has been so incredibly releasing for me. I get to talk to you whenever I want and I can tell you all the things I need to make sure you know before my time comes. There is no urgency here though, I can tell you slowly or quickly, whatever my heart is feeling at the moment.
Not only have I found an outlet for my pain in my letters to you but in creating something that came years before you were even a gleam in my eye. I have been making accessories for little girls since your big sister Brianna was a wee tot. Only recently, when you were found lurking in my womb, I started painting. When I read that back it seems funny to say it that way, I started painting...it makes it sound like I am in the Sistine Chapel and painting works of Gods on the ceilings. Nope, not me, when I started painting it was just some unfinished wooden letters, more importantly, the letters H, A, R, P, E, and another R.
I found out on June 3, 2010 at 12:30 PM that you were in fact the girl that I had suspected, that the Chinese gender chart told me to expect and what your daddy had said not moments after that test turned positive. I had the perfect name for my Bean, Harper Lynn. A beautiful name for a beautiful little girl that was going to be here in just a few short months! Your daddy immediately took me to the craft store so I could buy letters to paint for you to have hanging above your crib. I had bought Brianna's first set but knew that I could do it because nothing out there suited my tastes for you.
I started my project the night we came home with the funky retro letters and the hot pink paint. I primed and then base coated them. Brianna had dots on her letters and I just didn't feel like dots suited you, you needed more. It came to me exactly what I wanted and the paint began to flow on to them. You would have the pink letters with white daisies. I felt like you were a free spirit...little did I know, huh? I finished them that night, and your daddy hung them the next day right over your crib. They were perfect just like you.
Over the course of the 38 weeks I was pregnant with your sister I began painting letters again. I painted for friends and for people who loved my bows and loved the pictures they saw. I painted letters for A LOT of nurseries. I realized how releasing it could be for me. I painted polka dots, striped, but never flowers. Flowers were left for you. I redid your sister Brianna's letters once I found out that the rainbow baby we were expecting was another girl. Hers were with butterflies and Harlyn's were with tiny birds, still no flowers. It has been 19 and a half months since you passed away and there were no flowers on letters until tonight.
girly and something you would be proud of.
It made me realize what By Grace Alone meant as I put the final touches on Faith's letter and it can be summed up in one statement...
Thanks for my flowers tonight, you always seem to know what I need. So much like your brother.
Love,
Mommy
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