Independent Grief

Dear Harper, 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you sweet bean, 

Mommy 

How I Wish You Were Here

Dear Harper,

It all kind of starts with an iPod even though there is so much more to it than that. You were named Harper after the musician Ben Harper and the song Diamonds on the inside. That song was blaring on the radio the first time I felt you flutter, and once we found out you were a girl, you were Harper from then on.

That song has long since been deleted from my iPod. There wasn't enough room for it when I started adding all the Mumford type music to it. It didn't make the cut because it tugged too much at my heart. Made me cry mercilessly in the moments it played. One would think that hearing the songs played at your service would be the ones to do it but they weren't. I listen to those all the time without much affect. But that song, it slayed me like a dragon.

Everyone who knows me knows that once I heard Mumford and Sons for the first time I damn near forgot every other band on the planet. I smiled again while listening to them. They saved me from a very dark place after losing you and my music choices reflected that. Everything was very indie and new age folk, bluegrass. A very mellow turn in my selections.

 

A month after seeing Mumford for the third time in 2 years, I returned from Troy, Ohio/Indianapolis, Indiana with a stack of CDs from the merchandise booth for all the opening acts. I call them opening acts but they were all headliners in Troy. I steadily added them to my iPod, and the ones that I couldn't get CDs for, I began downloading. And that fateful message appeared on my screen. "Not enough disk space to store the items you have selected". I went from barely being able to fill HALF of a 4 gb iPod to needing much more space. I still had CDs to go, and no room.

In that moment, one of the few of clarity, I commandeered Brianna's iPod. I wiped what she had on it and started the revival of my music. I added everything new I had bought and I still had plenty of space. So I thought long and hard about things I had deleted to make room for Mumford & Friends on it. And I pulled out some other music, began adding back. This process took days and it makes me never want to buy a new iPod again.  I clicked through my cloud, adding back things that had been long lost to my ears. Diamonds on the inside was one of the first songs to make it back. And Johnny Cash. So many good things.  Coming across Korn's rehash of Another Brick in The Wall inspired me to want The Doors and Pink Floyd back on my playlist but I only had the Dark Side of the Moon and I wanted The Wall. So off to iTunes I went in search. Then I remembered how great the song comfortably numb was and wish you were here and I clicked download.

Wish you were here was the first to finish and I clicked it to listen. I heard the familiar guitar strumming and closed my eyes. Listening intently...tears began to stream down my face. It sparked something deep inside me and I couldn't hold it back. It had opened the flood gates to feelings I had been keeping a secret, even from myself.



The tears burned into my flesh, my nose ran like a sugar tree as I listened to it again. Trying to place exactly why, other than obvious reasons, this song would trigger such emotions. Your due date approaches...October is upon us. OCTOBER IS UPON US AND I WISH YOU WERE HERE!!! It is a mix of emotions, this beautiful roller coaster of emotion. I am angry because you aren't here, yet thankful because I got to know you at all. 

Funny how lyrics can make you feel such intense things, One line can make you lose your center of balance and teeter on the edge of a breakdown. Just two lost souls swimming in a fish bowl, year after year. I miss you so very much and even though I put on a smile and trudge through life there are just some days I can't pretend not to be sad. There are some days I can't pretend not to ache wickedly at your absence. There are some days that I can't pretend I don't cry when I see your picture or hear your name. There are some days I just can't be that woman, the one who can keep herself composed at all times. No one is perfect, and I can be honest about my imperfections. But damn....

How I wish. How I wish you were here.

Love you,

Mommy

There is no way and there never was

Dear Harper,

I have been writing to you for some time now. Writing has always been a passion of mine. I went to college to be a writer. For nearly 16 years I have been eating, sleeping, and breathing writing. It has waxed and waned over that course. Months of writers block setting in, no words to type, no pencil to paper.

I waited ten months, ten long months to write to you again. It is not because I don't love you, but because the words were escaping me. I let them disappear. It had died inside of me and I was waiting for a rebirth. It happens from time to time. My purpose has always been to tell you things you need to know so that maybe one day I can help someone who is weathering the storm set before them.

It was nearly thirteen years ago when I stepped foot onto campus the first time with big dreams of being an entertainment journalist. Things seemed promising. But that was not my destiny. For a while I thought that my dream had escaped me. That I had let it get away by being a 20 year old that had better things to do that my course work. Oh how wrong I was. The best is always yet to be.

I never write for me anymore, it's always for you. While writing relieves a certain amount of emotion that builds up, it isn't for me. I always dreamt, even from the start, that my words would move someone. Empower them. Encourage them to become the person they were born to be. I believe I was born to be a writer, though my words never set forth that encouragement, only strung me along the way. Atta girls coming from time to time.

I spend lots of time writing to you in my head, sometimes my finger never touch the keys. But please believe, that when they do it is nothing but heart felt, gut wrenching emotion pouring out from them. Do not pity me for they are not always sad tears. In fact, often times they are tears of absolute joy that I got to know you at all. For that, I am thankful. You have carried me without even being here.

As your birthday approaches, my heart saddens, a loss that I will never get over. Time does not make it easier but I learn to move forward, never forgetting but using you as a catalyst to help others, to soothe their pain and to relate to their sorrows.

While losing you brought me the most wretched heartache, it also brought a breath of life into my soul. Empowering ME to become the person I am today. So I wanted to be a writer...and thanks to you I finally feel like one.

I love you sweet bean.

Love always, with a heart full of new wonder and excitement,

Mommy

I leave you with this sweet darling, it has inspired my life in so many ways. I thought I had a rocket exploding from me, a lioness roaring the words out, but I was wrong. You were my rocket sweet love, and for that, I thank you.

So You Want To Be A Writer

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.
if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.
there is no other way.

and there never was.

~Charles Bukowski

so you want to be a writer?

  by Charles Bukowski

if it doesn't come bursting out of you
in spite of everything,
don't do it.
unless it comes unasked out of your
heart and your mind and your mouth
and your gut,
don't do it.
if you have to sit for hours
staring at your computer screen
or hunched over your
typewriter
searching for words,
don't do it.
if you're doing it for money or
fame,
don't do it.
if you're doing it because you want
women in your bed,
don't do it.
if you have to sit there and
rewrite it again and again,
don't do it.
if it's hard work just thinking about doing it,
don't do it.
if you're trying to write like somebody
else,
forget about it.


if you have to wait for it to roar out of
you,
then wait patiently.
if it never does roar out of you,
do something else.

if you first have to read it to your wife
or your girlfriend or your boyfriend
or your parents or to anybody at all,
you're not ready.

don't be like so many writers,
don't be like so many thousands of
people who call themselves writers,
don't be dull and boring and
pretentious, don't be consumed with self-
love.
the libraries of the world have
yawned themselves to
sleep
over your kind.
don't add to that.
don't do it.
unless it comes out of
your soul like a rocket,
unless being still would
drive you to madness or
suicide or murder,
don't do it.
unless the sun inside you is
burning your gut,
don't do it.

when it is truly time,
and if you have been chosen,
it will do it by
itself and it will keep on doing it
until you die or it dies in you.

there is no other way.

and there never was.

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

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

Loving, even when I am broken

Dear Harper,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love always,

Mommy

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

The Silver Lining

Dear Harper,

It is hard to believe that 21 months have flown by so fast. Where has time gone? Each day it is a little easier to breathe, each day the steps I walk are easier to take but the wound is still open and oozing. That will never change, no matter how many beats my heart has left in it.

I think when I started this blog people thought I would write to you everyday. Sometimes I feel guilty about not writing everyday but sometimes the words just don't come to me, they feel forced and that's not what I want. I want every word I type to you to come from heart. I want you to know that I mean everything I say to you.

I am so lucky. Not luck in the sense that most people take it but rather Blessed. I feel that way a lot. I feel blessed that I have a home, I have healthy children, a wonderful husband. I feel blessed that storms pass by us without damaging our home. I feel blessed that your sister and brother have a good school to go to, that your daddy has a job. I feel blessed to have you. Even in heartache, it is better to have had you than not.

I see so many people complaining about how bad things are for them, how they need this or that to make it better, how one little thing didn't go their way so they want to just say screw it all.  That bothers me because they just don't understand how much worse it could be. They don't understand the bigger picture, does that tiny minute thing make so bad? Even when things seems to be going exactly opposite of what I need I always try to find the silver lining. If you don't you are going to spend that moment in the dark and not see the beauty that can come from it. Beauty will rise.

Why do they not see that even when you are at rock bottom there is always someone who has it worse than you? I thought I might die because it hurt so bad to live without you. I wanted to die because I had to live my life without you. I couldn't think of anything worse, except if something were to happen to Kaden or Brianna. I did not want to go on without you,  and then I found another blog on here written by a man who lost not only his child but his wife too because a drink driver hit them. That was torture. He was surely ready to die too. I knew one thing for certain, He was definitely battling more demons than I.

I believe that all things happen for a reason. It may be the cheesiest thing for someone to say and the very last thing someone in my shoes wants to hear, but I believe it. I didn't WANT to be the one in a million with you, I didn't WANT you to die but it happened. Looking back upon it, 21 months later, I see that someone HAD to be the one in a million, and God (or whatever your high power is) chose me because he knew that I was strong enough to come out the other side of the storm a stronger person. Even though this is not necessarily the path I would have chosen I feel like it has made me a better person.

I choose not to complain about all the little dark corner, the big long dark hallways but rather rejoice in the light at the end of that hallway, the flicker of a flashlight in those corners. You, my sweet little bean, have made me look on the bright side, you have made me a glass half full kind of person. You, while leaving me wounded, have made my heart better.

It is amazing how that tiny set of feet left such huge imprints on my life. I will never be the same.

I love you Sweet Bean,

Love always,

Mommy

Have you ever seen the rain...

Dear Harper,

I was driving home on Saturday night, it was late and you see I had just gone to get Brianna from Aunt Julie's house. It was a sleepover gone awry, your big sister was homesick so I drove the half hour down to get her. Aunt Lee went with me because daddy was already in bed asleep and I hate driving by myself and it was a half hour drive each way. We listened to my iPod on the drive and it was all fun, bouncy, loud songs (and some of your baby sister's baby Einstein stuff.)

On the way home I turned it down low so your sister could doze in the car. I dropped Aunt Lee at her house on my way home and I turned the radio up slightly. Your message was coming across loud and clear, I love when that happens. As I turned the dial up just a couple of notches the song ended and the next began...Tears in Heaven. I smiled a little smile. *Thanks baby girl* I whispered in the quiet dark. This was, of course, one of the songs I played at your funeral. (It still feels unreal to type those words...at your funeral.) We played Somewhere Over the Rainbow too, it just seemed fitting for you. I let it play through, these songs no longer make me cry but smile because of how much I love you.

As I crossed the railroad tracks and headed toward our house the song changes again. Have you ever seen the rain....the words pierced my ears.

"'Til forever on it goes through the circle fast and slow,
I know, and it can't stop, I wonder.

I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
comin' down on a sunny day?"

Tears burned my eyes, by this time I was sitting in my driveway, it was almost midnight but I couldn't turn the car off, I couldn't just turn this song off. It was so much of how I have felt in the last year and a half, so much of what I was feeling in that moment.


I realize now, why when the stages of grief are pictured it is done in a circle. It never ends, you are just at different stages at different points. At that moment in the car I felt myself circle through all of them again. I hurt so bad in the 3 minutes, I longed for you. But in that moment I knew that you are always with me.

I had experienced the calm before the storm, I had seen the rain. Everyday, as I look into your brother and sister's faces, I see the rain comin' down on a sunny day

I miss you Bean, and I love you even more.

Love always and forever,

Mommy
I wanna know...have you ever seen the rain

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

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...

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.

1. Denial
2. Anger
3. Bargaining
4. Depression
5. Guilt
6. Obsession
7. Acceptance

I can vividly, just as if it were yesterday, remember the moments of each of the stages as I passed through them. Denial was immediate, they told me your heart had stopped beating and in words that I will never forget the doctor, as he ran the ultrasound wand over my belly that still held you looked at me and said "It's not good kiddo." I denied every moment that was happening to me, you were still alive in there, just sleeping. Ashton Kutcher was going to pop around the curtain any minute and punk me. He was lying to me, why would he do something like that. I felt my heart break into a million piece, it is a moment when I stopped breathing, I stopped living for just that speck of time. You were fine and I was going to have you in my arms in October...deny, deny, deny...isn't that what addicts do? I was sure this was just some horrific dream...it wasn't.

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

just a letter...

Dear Harper, 

 I know it has been a week or more since I wrote last. I just don't want my letters to you to feel forced. These words that I write, they come to me on their own, they come from my heart and if they feel pulled it just won't be the same.

I have had a heavy heart, missing you so intensely lately. I am not sure why but it comes just as quickly and easily as the sun sets and rises. I hold your sister and long to hold you again. My heart has openly ached for you this past week. I think about you all the time, and when I stare into your sister's sleeping face I miss you. 

 People say things like "Time heals all wounds." or "It has to be easier now that you have a baby." but the truth in the matter is that those things are false. Time has not healed, nor will it ever heal the open oozing wound that your death left me with. A piece of my soul is forever gone with you. There are days that the pain of losing you is still so raw and new that it feels as if it just happened, then there are other days where the wound is just a dull aching pain. Time does one thing though...it passes.

It has been 20 months since you left my arms, so small and frail, yet so incredibly perfect. There is not a day that passes that I don't wish I had more time with you.  Your sweet smell burned into my brain, and every now and then when I am thinking about you I can smell you. 


If there is one word that does not describe me at all it would be skeptic. I believe in the forces of nature, and the forces of spirit completely. I believe that you are able to "visit" if you will, with us and let me know you are okay. I have always believed in the supernatural and a person's ability to commune with spirits. It started about 5 days after your memorial service, I still find it hard to believe it was MY child being memorialized. I had not read your obituary, I was reluctant because it made it so real. They laid on the wall separating the kitchen from the hallway for a week or better. I finally decided that I was going to read what was written about my sweet little love in the paper and all of a sudden our entire house was filled with your scent. You came to let me know I would be okay, you knew then what I needed. 


In the past 20 months, when my heart is aching in such a way, you filled my head with your scent. It is a scent that only you could have, so different from your sisters' smells. Brianna's is sweet like candy and Harlie's is almost floral but yours is just a hint of sweetness, and almost metallic. It is what you smelled like as I held you close for those few hours, it is what your hat & blanket smell like. I keep them tucked away but when it is exceptionally hard for me to breathe without you I open your cedar chest and hold them close.  

How has it been 20 months? I don't understand how the world can keep moving without you in it. How have I had another child and you don't know her? There are so many things I need you to know, so many thoughts I have for you.As I laid in the hospital, in labor with you,I thought about the choices I had, that I could let this rule my life forever and I could be mad about the hand I was dealt or I could pick up, try to mend the pieces of my broken heart and move along. 


I chose to let it strengthen me, to not let it define me but become a part of who I was in my life and to let it lead me to help other women who have suffered this travesty in their lives too. You have brought me to some of the most amazing women I have the pleasure of calling my friends, Corin & Deanna to just name a couple. They know you, they love you the way that I do and they know the suffering that is child loss. 


When my heart aches to hold you, I call upon those women who know this ache so well. They are there to hold my hand in a way only they can. So 20 months have passed, and I ache from this open oozing wound proudly calling myself Harper's Mom. Even in my weakest hour, in my misery, in my pain, in my tears, I am proud to be your mommy. You have taught me so much with so little. 


I love you Harper Bean, I miss you even more.


Love


Mommy

After the storm...

Dear Harper,

Time is going so quickly since I had children. When I was younger it seemed like "life" would never get here, I was going to be 7 years old forever. Now that I am an adult all I want is for it to slow down, to take a minute, to breathe. I want an infinite amount of time.

I need a minute to breathe. I always need a minute when I talk about you. At first my eyes water and I try to continue and then my voice cracks and I choke. It's not because I am ashamed to talk about you, but because some days talking about you takes every ounce of energy and every fiber of my being...I get sad, I am at a loss for words and saying "I miss you" just doesn't cover it. 25 weeks didn't cover it, I had a life time of words, hopes and dreams for you that just got shattered the moment your heart stopped beating.

Lately this happens more than not. I look at your baby sister and see her growing and I long for the moments I missed with you. I never got to hear you say "mama", she says it kind of drawn out.. "mmmmama" and only when she is mad or sad. Every other time it is "dada". I wonder what your little voice would have sounded like breaking the silence at 3 AM. It's the little things that get me more than anything. You forget all the little things that you would have missed because you are so focused on the big ones, like birthdays and such. I have a constant reminder of the little things, her name is Harlie Bird. I am thankful for those gentle reminders of the small things. Would you have been a booty scooter or a backward crawler?? Would you like veggies or fruits? Would you like grape juice or would you like apple juice? All the little things.

Last night severe weather moved through our area and I had the windows open in the house because yesterday was so incredibly beautiful for this time of year. The wind was blowing gently into the house. I love that smell, the smell of rain on the wind, the smell of a quick shower blowing through with lightning flashing in the background. I was thankful for the windows being open. Your baby sister was sleeping in the swing just next to the window and it made me even more thankful for her.

A lot of women call the baby they have after a loss their "Rainbow Baby". I figured this meant the wish that was "somewhere over the rainbow" but that's not the case. In fact it means  getting through the storm, there is always a rainbow after the storm. And last night as I watched the lightning and smelled the rain I was so thankful for the beautiful mess you left in your wake.

You have made me more thankful for the little things in life. You have given me an appreciation for all the things I would have overlooked, like messy feedings and extra messy bubble baths. Because of you I relish in these things. I take the time to BREATHE, I take the time to be thankful for everything I have been given in life.

It's a funny circle, I miss you so badly that I can feel my heart breaking and it makes me thankful for everything I have, all the small things and it makes me thankful to have known my sweet Bean. You are perfect in every way because you made me open my eyes, to see the beauty that is a messy floor & dirty diapers. The wonderful in a screaming baby at 3 AM. You have given me the power to know when a relationship needs to be nutured and when it needs to be let go. You gave me a set of sisters that are truly amazing women, and you made bonds with other baby loss moms for me. You have made me a stronger woman, and while everyone has faults (I know I do.) you have made me a better person.

I have so many people that I know I can talk to, who know exactly what it is that I am going through because of you. And now I have this amazing gift you have given me, to write you letters. There are so many things I have left to tell you.  It is amazing how something so terrible can bring so many together. We are all united in broken hearts.
 
I am forever grateful for the things you have given me....even if it is just the small things. I am so grateful for you, my sweet Love. You have breathed new life into me, you have given me great purpose. You have given me great love and a deep appreciation for the things I have in life. I have so much gratitude for you, even amidst the pain and tears there is so much to be grateful for. When I have a bad day I just remember my love for you, and the beautiful disaster you left behind. It made for a beautiful rainbow.

I am thankful for you...never forget that.

I love you sweet Bean.

Mommy

"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 every prayer" ~Irish Blessing

I miss you...all the time

Dear Harper,

It's been 19 long months since I answered with a meek nod of my head when I was asked if I was "ready for her to go back". Back is not somewhere anyone wants to talk about, but I will say it. They asked me if I was ready for them to return you to the morgue. How does a mother answer that question? I knew it was time, I knew my time with you was over and it was the right thing to do but it not something I was ready for or wanted to do. I miss you, more lately than usual. Some of these past few days I am swept into the grief as if it were only yesterday. I call them "blue days".

I took your big sister, Brianna, shopping the other day and was told how beautiful she was. When asked how many kids I had I quickly responded that I have 4 but I only got to keep 3 of them. I try to tell people about you but I get these sad looks, and so many say "I'm sorry" or they quickly change the subject because apparently you are taboo. If that is the case then I guess I am taboo too because I talk about you all the time. I tell people how beautiful you were when you were here and how I got to know you for 25 weeks and how I can't wait to know you more. I tell them about all the little things you do for me and I get strange sideways looks like I might be on the crazy side. 

I'm not sure why it has taken me 19 months to decide to start writing down my letters to you. I think them all the time, sometimes I Facebook status them but that no longer seems enough. Some days my hurt & grief needs more than just a few minutes on a page, it needs eternity to simmer and dissipate. I want to be able and go back so I can read to you the things I need you to know. 

You not only have a big sister and a big brother who wanted you more than you could ever know, you now have a baby sister. She is named for you Harper. Kaden and your grandma came up with it, her name is Harlyn. I think she looks quite like you only a bit bigger. She was born just a short 11 months after you were. Don't think it is because we didn't miss you and we moved on because we didn't. Mommy needed a distraction and so that was it, another pregnancy to pass the time by. She was born a month before your first birthday and even at only a month old she helped us celebrate your first birthday by letting go of a balloon. 

Her birth was peppered with very mixed emotions, I was so elated that I had a new baby but it also made me miss you a million times more. I never ever thought she would fill the spot in my heart that was meant for you but I never thought I could feel so torn. I felt guilty because I was happy that I had her but then I felt sad because you weren't here. They have a term for babies born so closely, it's Irish Twins. You guys were 329 days apart. Even now that Harlyn is almost 9 months old, those feelings are the same. Some days are better than others and then she might do something that makes me miss you again like I did in those first days.

I never moved on, and never let it go. I woke up and learned how to deal with my grief, I learned how to carry on and function in a world that was no longer the happy place I thought it was before you. I had to learn how to live in a place that you didn't exist anymore. We left your crib up and made, we left your clothes hanging in the closet. I took lots of pictures of you to hang in our home. We made a spot for you just like your big brother and sister. Your pictures are all over the house so we can make sure your baby sister knows all about you. The days progress and sometimes I wonder how it's been so long and I didn't really notice the time passing. Sometimes I feel like I am stuck in pause and the rest of the world is rushing around me at lightning speed. In these moments I close my eyes and go back to the moment I saw each of my babies and how proud I was each and every time. 

My friend Corin sent me a pocket stone with your name in it. I have carried it everywhere since it arrived. You know, I wouldn't know her if it wasn't for you. I have met so many amazing and strong women because of you. I bet you are a busy little bean having all those friends up there. The day it arrived was a very hard day for me and I am not sure why it was harder than others but it was almost like you were blowing me a kiss by that tiny package arriving. 

My letters come more frequently now that I know it's okay to let it all out. I miss you Harper, more and more as the days pass. I love you even more than I miss you. Life goes on but nothing has changed when it comes to those two things.  I know with each word I write to you my heart lightens because I know somehow that you are reading this.

I love you sweet Bean. 

Love,

Mommy