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

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

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

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

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.

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.

Eleanor Roosevelt

I love you, always & forever.

Mommy

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