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

the gift of laughter

Dear Harper,

I cannot begin to tell you how much I miss you. There are no words to put together to write down the emptiness and sadness that fills a spot in my heart where you were supposed to be. But then again, I cannot begin to tell you how much I love you, some things just aren't meant to be put into to words. Your death was so profound that it left an ever growing love yet an ever growing sorrow in my chest.

Then there are days like today, it's so sunny and so bright. It makes my heart light and happy. These are the days I miss you most, I miss the sound of what would have been your laugh. Our house, I like to think, is one of laughter. Sure, we have our days just like anyone, when we are not so pleasant to be around, but we are pretty easy going and fun people. I didn't want to be mad over you because I love smiling and I love laughing and so I chose that. I chose to be happy that I even got to know you.

I bet you would have had a sweet little giggle, a quiet cackle. I bet you would have done things to make my sides split with fits of joy. Even though you left a gaping wound, you left us the ability to find laughter again. I watched a video of your brother from a few years ago and giggled so hard I was crying. It was a moment lost until today when I watched it for what felt like the first time, even though I had seen a thousand.

I blog for your older sister and there are days I have a hard time writing them because I am laughing so hard. She says things you just can't make up. I get to smile when your little sister splashes me in the bath tub or giggles because I sneezed funny. I can giggle at things my friends talk me in to doing, like asking all of my friends to send me a dollar for my birthday. It is a fabulous thing you have done for me.

I think I laugh more now, since you, than I did before you. You made me realize just how precious each and every one of those moments are. My house may fall down around me, and I may have laundry piled to the ceiling but I know what is important above all else because of you. You gave me a gift of almost slowing time. Even though it is not truly slowed, you made it so for me.

Never again will I take for granted your big sister climbing out of her bed for the thousandth time to give me a "huggy" or a "kissy" because those are moment cherished, laughter shared as I tuck her in again.  I am sitting here, the house is all dark save for a lamp on the desk beside me, your baby sister tucked in the swing swaying back and forth with just low breath sounds coming from her, and I am giggling as I write this. It has reminded me of all the funny things that happened over the course of a lifetime.

I am replaying moments in my head and giggling quietly. Several times in the short letter I have been doing the silent body shake as to not wake your sister. Maybe it's because my heart is light in gratefulness for you. Maybe it's because I am tired. Or maybe....

Because of you I can laugh a little longer, and save the dusting for tomorrow because we never know how many breaths we have left. You have given me the gift of laughter back, and there is no way to repay you for that.

My never ending love little bean.

I love you,

Mommy

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

Angel Kisses

Dear Harper,

 I am not sure that this note will be terribly long but I need to tell you thank you.  I know it has been a few days since I have written but I am compelled tonight, as the wind is blowing gently through my windows and your siblings are snug in their beds, to write you a letter of gratitude.

Yesterday your sister went in the hospital to have a routine procedure done, just placement of ear tubes. But the way I see it, there is nothing routine about a routine procedure when general anesthetic is involved, things happen...things do go wrong. You are my proof of that. 

YOU, now.

I held on to you all night the night prior, and just prayed my heart out that your sister would be safe during surgery. I thought about it non-stop until my body was so tired that I just passed out. I believe this was you tucking me in so I didn't worry anymore. You know what I need and when I need it, you are just ever present and all knowing. This saving grace you gave me on Tuesday night was more than I could have asked for, Thank You Bean. 

Then my alarm didn't go off at 4:40 AM like it was supposed to but some how by the Grace of God, your daddy woke up before me and woke me up on time. He was the calm one and I know he was just as worried as I was but you were his ever guiding hand telling him that things would be alright. You are always there, just long enough to guide us through the storm. He made sure that I had finished everything the night before, he even made sure we had a bottle just in case, and your favorite toys. He was able to calmly load your sweet baby sister into the car and help me get there in the rain when I forgot my glasses. Thank You Bean.

When we arrived at the hospital and I registered her it said I would owe a $275 copay that I didn't have but some how, I no longer had to pay it right away. It just kind of went away and again, I knew it was you just showing me you had my back in all of the worry. 

We were whisked upstairs and the surgery check in person, Bonita, was so sweet and calmed my nerves, just asking if we needed anything and what your sister would want to drink after she woke up. Then I blinked and we were in the surgery prep room, a teeny tiny hospital bed with rails that came up and turned it into a crib. My heart was heavy, because I know how badly things can go in the blink of an eye. All of the what ifs were swimming in my head. But nothing was intimidating your sweet baby Bird. She laid there as they took her blood pressure, and her pulse/ox levels, and measurements to make sure she got the right amount of medications. She just smiled and babbled the whole time, no idea what was coming. 

I knew it was getting closer as they  brought in a tiny but oversized hospital gown for her, it was white with green animals all over it and it said "lions, tigers and bears, oh my!" all over too. She let me slip her out of her pajamas that had been so warm and snug on such a nasty rainy & stormy day. My heart was clenching and the nurse said "We are going to take her for a test run to see if she is okay going with us, if not we will get her anti-anxiety meds." I knew you had wrapped your tiny hand into hers and told her it would be okay because she willingly went with the nurses and smiled as she looked back. You kept her calm so she didn't need any more medications,  Thank You Bean.


I didn't cry as I watched her being taken away, I wanted to but I felt a gentle squeeze on my heart, and a relief in my mind, that said all was going to be okay, and with each breath those what ifs disappeared. Twelve minutes passed after they walked out of the room with, only twelve and the nurse came in and said "She did great!, and Dr. Brown will be in in just a moment." Twelve minutes, a coincidence? I think not. Dr. Brown came in and gave us her ear drops and said her ears were still very bad but she should be on the mend now. She went out quickly and was already beginning to wake up. In the doctor's words "She did beautifully." Thank You Bean. 

Post Op Nummies

Ten minutes after that we were taken back to see her. She was there in the teeny tiny hospital bed with one side of the crib railings up and her lungs were letting everyone know just where she was.I immediately held her, whispered in her ear that I was there and daddy was there but you were there too. We were told to be prepared that she would not act normally when she first woke up, that there would be a lot of screaming and crying but it would subside after 2-4 hours. This was not the case, I calmed her and she gently sucked her binky, and then daddy wanted a turn. He was able to feed her and she fell asleep in his arms just as if she were wanting a nap. And then I saw it, a few tiny glimmers on her forehead. Hmmm, what could it be? It was glitter you left behind when you gave your sister reassurance with your angel kisses. They were not there when she went back but they were there when she came out. You wrapped her in your arms and took care of her when momma couldn't...Thank You Bean. 

Just 5 hrs post op

Seeing that glitter on her forehead, smelling your smell wafting off of her, I knew that it was you watching over, guiding her and telling her not to be scared. You made sure she was safe and you carried her through for me. And for that I cannot thank you enough my sweet love. We are home now, and she bounced back so quickly, I am sure you know that because you are on her side watching every step (or scoot) she takes. She woke up from her nap smiling and cooing just like she had been the day before just 5 hours after surgery.  It is amazing, I know you know that though. Without you I couldn't have her, so Thank You Bean.


I hate that I only got to know you for 25 weeks and I am missing so many things with you, but I love that you gave me her to help ease the pain, and you are here with her. I know you are always watching over us and when my heart aches for you I know that you are just a blink away in my dreams.


Thank You Bean.


I love you,


Mommy