Magnitude

Dear Harper,

Today as I sit here looking at my dashboard on Blogger and on Tumblr I am blown away. I am blown away by the love that has been shown for your blog, this blog. I was excited when a post reached 20 views and to see all of the posts soaring to much bigger numbers is making my heart dance. I am reaching someone, I am helping someone, I am keeping hope alive for someone. This is an amazing feeling. For the first time in the 16 years that I have been writing I finally feel like a writer...all because of YOU.

I am blown away not only by the positive energy that you've created from this blog, and the positive flow that is happening for your birthday but I am knocked to my knees by all the magnitude in which you have achieved from so very far away. Your little feet my have never touched the soft grass or the rich soil of this earth, and your lungs my have never filled with the air of a fresh rain but you are here. YOU are doing wondrous things, accomplishing so much without gracing the world with your beautiful face.

I am proud to call myself a writer now. You've guided my hand these last two years, telling me which direction to go and I am forever grateful. You've shown me that my time and my tears are worth it. That my hard work is paying off.

Our blog has seen views from all over the world, gaining access from so many sources. Our links are being passed around like gum on the school bus.We have followers from around the globe and famous authors reblogging us. We are doing immense things in this life. This is a greatness that I couldn't have made on my own. I have you, my guiding hand. This is greatness in the name of you, Harper!

Something that I am even more proud of is calling myself your mom. What a blessing! You showed me how to turn this pain into something much grander and much more positive that I had ever dreamed possible. The only way I can show my gratitude to you is to continue doing what I have been doing, sharing my heart with you and the world.

Tomorrow is your birthday, and for the first time since your passing,  I am not sullen as it approaches. I am elated and bursting at the seams with joy. This joy is such that I still cry, though happy tears stain my face. Happy to see our little family accomplishing something so incredibly monstrous and daunting. We are able to do this because our hearts are filled and over flowing with you.

You were meant for great things baby girl, even if you aren't walking this earth to do them.

Thank you for waking me up, and making me realize that I was meant for greatness too.

I love you sweet bean, to the ends of the earth and back.

Forever and always,

Mommy

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

There is no way and there never was

Dear Harper,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I love you sweet bean.

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

Mommy

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

So You Want To Be A Writer

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

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

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

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

and there never was.

~Charles Bukowski

so you want to be a writer?

  by Charles Bukowski

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


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

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

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

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

there is no other way.

and there never was.

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

Eye of the Hurricane

Dear Harper,



It's Independence Weekend here in the great nation of the U.S. of A.. While most Americans are celebrating the birth of a nation I am celebrating the loss of a treasure.

July brings so many feelings for me. Vividly remembering our time together. Your pregnancy was anything but easy. Little did I know that the worst was only coming.

July 4, it was a beautiful day. I remember it vividly. I was on light activity, but it was a holiday so we were planning on going to the farm for a cookout. The sun was shining brightly, it was warm but not overly hot just yet. I rested on the swing on the patio while your brother and sister played in the yard. I was sluggish and tired but that was nothing new. The day went by smoothly, just taking it all in and thinking you would be with me the next 4th, you'd be nine months old and probably starting to cruise. Daydreaming of what was to come.

I slept well that night, which was a feat in itself. I had become restless worrying about you. In hindsight, worry is nothing but a waste of energy because what will be will be.

July 5, the sun was blaring early in the day. It was gorgeous. Your grandma had bought the kids a swimming pool to occupy their time. They were up early and begging me to join them in the pool. I didn't have a bathing suit so I meandered outside in my pajamas and slid down into the warm water. You immediately started kicking like crazy. The kids splashed wildly as you moved around my belly. Their little hands laying on my skin to feel you kicking. They giggled intensely at this, it was the first time they had ever felt you. You loved hearing them so happy, it only made you dance more.

This day stands out the most in my brain. This memory is one of the most vivid of the entire pregnancy. I have so many pictures from this day, your brother and sister playing in the pool and making goofy faces. These photos litter the house, but I want it no other way. They are memories from one of the happiest times of my life.

I went to bed that night, exhausted but feeling incredibly happy. I should have known that this was the calm before the storm. They say when you are on the verge of dying that you miraculously feel better in the days before passing. And I felt better than I had in weeks. I was so happy, energetic, and feeling over the top good. This was the eye of the storm. This was the calmest it would be before I weathered the worst to be.

You have to weather the storm to see the rainbow

The next few days passed as all the others, I was tired, and didn't do much other than lay in bed whilst your brother and sister played. Brianna was prepping for Kindergarten and was excited about school. (That quickly changed)

July 8, I went to the doctor for one of twice weekly visits. Everything seemed okay. There you were kicking away on the ultrasound, your heart rate happy and healthy. My OB had cleared me for light activities and had said I could ride with your dad to get the oil changed in the car. I came home and went back to bed as per my normal routine. I showed Kaden and Brianna your ultrasounds and we talked about how excited we were to meet you. Sleep went as usual that night.

July 9, the day that will live in infamy in our family. The day a piece of my soul died. The day I became incomplete. I woke up, and you were slow but active. We decided to head on to get the oil changed. You gave us a couple of big kicks before we left so I knew you were okay. We drove to the dealership to get the oil changed, my iPod blaring James Brown, your sister's choice. I danced in the seat of the car as we drove down the interstate. The only word to describe our family at that moment was happy. The trip took much longer than intended, I was tired. I was hungry and your siblings were too.

We made it home and had a snack, then as per my routine I crawled into your brother's bed and rested. Your dad decided to take the kids to see Despicable Me in the theater while I took a nap. I didn't feel well at all and you had been quiet for a bit. I rested while you rested. I woke up after they returned and felt no better. You were still quiet, I was worried. I decided to eat dinner and if that didn't perk you up I would head to the hospital.

Dinner came and went and I asked your dad to drive me right into the storm. I knew as we pulled into the parking lot of the hospital that I would not be coming home. This was the moment that I actually felt my heart shatter into a million pieces. As the nurses scanned my belly, faking that they didn't know how to use the machine properly as they waited for my doctor to arrive. My doctor came and delivered the news, and I was wheeled into a different room. They induced labor and so the wait began.

I waited for you, 3 long days. And when you came, though I felt empty and broken, you were the most beautiful thing I had ever laid eyes on. You were placed in my arms, and my heart broken a million times over. Perfection, too beautiful for this life.

I thought the worst of the storm was over, little did I know that I was only laying low in the middle waiting for the worst to come. I took myself out of the eye of the storm and pressed forward, wading through the raging waters so that I could see the rainbow on the other side.

May God give you...
    For every storm, a rainbow,
    For every tear, a smile,
    For every care, a promise,
    And a blessing in each trial.
    For every problem life sends,
    A faithful friend to share,
    For every sigh, a sweet song,
    And an answer for each prayer.
                                   ~Irish Blessing

So while everyone spends their weekend barbequing, lighting off fireworks and spending time celebrating the birth of our nation, I silently celebrate the moments we had together. I quietly think about you. There are always tears, but there are smiles. And while I am shaking my fist at those shooting off fireworks at 3 AM, I am doing so with a thankful heart that you gave your life so that Bird could have hers.

I may not understand the why's or the how's but I believe that Bird was meant to be. I had made the choice that you would be my last baby and as time passes I find that I believe that Bird was still in waiting, and to keep me from making the wrong choice, you gave yourself so that she could live. So this independence day, I celebrate you, MY hero. MY baby. MY Harper.

I love you my sweet, sweet girl. More and more every day.

Love always,

Mommy

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there... I do not sleep.
I am the thousand winds that blow...
I am the diamond glints on snow...
I am the sunlight on ripened grain...
I am the gentle autumn rain.
When you waken in the morning's hush,
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of gentle birds in circling flight...
I am the soft star that shines at night.
Do not stand at my grave and cry—
I am not there... I did not die...

 

May God give you … For every storm, a rainbow, for every tear, a smile, for every care, a promise, and a blessing in each trial. For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh, a sweet song, and an answer for each prayer. ~Irish Blessing - See more at: http://cardsbysandrarose.com/product/general-get-well/51873-irish-get-well-wishes/#sthash.hjwbYMgm.dpuf

The LBD Part 2

Dear Harper,

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love,

Mommy

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

Your daddy....

Dear Harper,

Today is our wedding anniversary, daddy and I have been married for nine years. It's hard to remember life before I met him. It's funny how we forget things that didn't hold a lot of meaning.

Daddy and I have had our ups and downs, our sickness and in healths and definitely our for better and for worse. I know there will be more to come because nothing is ever as perfect as we want but I feel like as long as I have him I can conquer the world.

When we got married it seemed the cards were stacked against us. A lot of people really didn't think we would make it to our first year. We were so broke and a lot of "they are too young" came our way but we didn't let it get to us. We worked through it all.

Over the last nine years we have fought, we've been mad. We've laughed, we've cried, we've smiled. In the last nine years we have created 4 beautiful children. You changed not only me when you were born, but your daddy. You taught him so many things.

You taught your daddy how to love deeply and how to be grateful in the moment for the blessings he has been given. You have taught him how to let go of the little things and how to handle better the big things. It has been amazing to watch him over the last 21 months morph into the person he is now. I loved him with every fiber of being then and I love him even more now.

Your daddy was a rock when you died. (Today typing that word make my heart feel like a hand is around it choking the life out of me.) He cried, but only when he thought I wasn't awake or when I wasn't around. He stayed steady and strong for me. He held my hand, even while his world was falling apart around him, he stayed strong for me. He took care of me, making sure I ate everyday, making sure I bathed and changed clothes at least every other day. He took care of all the things I did that honestly he was unsure of.  He had help with your brother and sister but he managed them too.

When we went to the funeral home the night of your memorial, he held my hand and allowed me to take the time I needed to walk in there. He held my heart in his hands as it shattered all over again looking at your tiny urn on that table. I wasn't supposed to be there, you weren't supposed to be there. You should have been in my belly and I should have been at home but we weren't. You and I were there in that moment, in that funeral home, I felt you all around me but I couldn't have stood up with out him by my side.

He rubbed my arm after the service and he let me know it was okay to let out a sigh of relief and sit on the pew after everyone had dispersed. I remember he laughed a little and let me know it was okay to smile when I said "Thank God that is over." It is so unbelievably hard to sit in a room filled with people feeling sorry for you. He waited with me for the 30 minutes or so after everyone left before I was ready to go, and he never said "let's go" or anything. He knew that I needed that time, because a lot of those people were at the house waiting for us to arrive. What is it with funerals and people convening and bringing food to you?

He held me every night as I cried myself to sleep in your blankets. I was always afraid they wouldn't smell like you after a while and I would never be able to smell you again and he reassured me as I put them in your memory box for the last time.

He encouraged me as I put up your pictures in our house, and backed me up when others didn't think it was "healthy". What's not healthy is not acknowledging that you were alive to begin with. He kept me busy when I missed you the most, and he would just let me babble on for hours about whatever non-sense was coming out of my mouth.

The truth is, I believe that your daddy is my soul mate. I know he is. I believe fate brought us together.  I believe in happily ever after, even if it isn't all happy all the time, I believe in love at first sight...I believe that I have that with your daddy. He is my knight in shining armor, he has rescued me so many times and so many times from my own faults.

He is one the most forgiving people I know. I know that he loves me with all of heart and soul, and not just because he tells me but by his actions. I would have taught you that actions speak louder than words and I never got to. Your daddy is great with this, his love speaks volumes by the little things and after nine years it is a lot about the little things.

They say you either marry your mother or your father. I never believed that but as I get older I realize that I did. I think my dad, your grandpa, is a great man, a strong man, a fighter for things he believes in and loves, and a man of values. These are also things that I find easily in your daddy. Your daddy has a strong heart and a strong will (like your grandpa, he can be very stubborn.) And I know your daddy would fight for me in an instant. He would give everything and more for his family.

He is an amazing man, and I think a lot of it because of you.

I love you Harper.

Love always,

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

A sister is a forever friend

Dear Harper,

I am compelled to tell you about your sisters. You only had one when you were born but now you have two beautiful sisters in your life, or what would have been your life. 

Your sister, Brianna, was so very excited that mommy was going to have a baby "lizard". She was only 4 when I found out I was pregnant with you and was going to turn 5 just a couple of months before your were to be born. As little as she was, and not understanding things when "it" happened, she is is a very intuitive little girl. She remembers now being only 5 months away from 7 years old. She holds me when I need to be held and she snaps me out of it when I am in a daze dreaming of holding you again. She is beautiful in every way, even when she is at her worst. She has this cute little nose, and you had it too. You looked a lot like her when you were born. Her almost almond eyes that are as big as moons, you were even going to have her little gap in your teeth (which you get from your momma), I saw the ridge in your gums. You had her long "piano player" fingers and I am not exactly how you all got long fingers because mine are short and stubby. You were beautiful just like Brianna...just breathtaking.

Your sister was so cute when you were in utero, she wanted to share her room with you, her bed with you and was even willing to maybe share a few of her stuffed animals with you. In her eyes, you were being born to be her best friend because at 4 she didn't have one yet. She helped me pick out clothes for you and we would buy them and hang them in "you all's cwoset" as she would say. 

There are days I look back now and think that I might have known your tiny feet would never grace this Earth. I had an urgency about EVERYTHING. We told our friends right away, we even gave your grandpa the test for his birthday just a mere 24 hours after I took it. We wanted everyone to know about you as soon as possible. Your grandma said she would buy the crib for us and I had it picked and waiting for her. It arrived and rested under your sister's bed until we found out if you were a boy or girl. I bought clothing for you because I just didn't want you to be naked, we bought diapers and wipes, and burp clothes. Everything we would need for you. There was hardly anything to register for which I didn't want to do...odd, I wanted to do it with your brother and sister. In all of my preparing I wanted to find a "big sister" shirt for Brianna. I would always find darling ones and I never could bring myself to buy it. 

It was almost as if there was a tiny hand holding me back saying "wait" because I knew if I bought it that she would want to wear it and it would make me have to explain that while she was a big sister that she wasn't really. I wanted you to myself, I didn't want to share you day in and day out. I wanted all of you to stay right with me. I was afraid I would lose pieces of you. These were all feelings that I had before I learned that you grew your wings early.  A sense of urgency to let the world know you existed but an extreme need to keep you to myself. These are the feelings I recognize as knowing you weren't staying. 

Then just a short 7 weeks after your death, there's that word again...death, I found out that that we were having another baby. I panicked, it was ugly because it lasted so long. At 16 weeks we found out that we were having another girl and I was excited because Brianna was going to be a sister and I was going to get to tell her all about her big sister in heaven. I panicked the whole pregnancy, even rented a heart doppler so I could check on her any time I wanted or needed to because I was fearful. It was a long pregnancy and I was so thankful when she was born. I knew you were there looking over her. 

She knows about you, I tell her all the time. She is beautiful & perfect and always happy! She has worn everything that I bought for you and every time I put something on her I get teary eyed and tell her it was her big sister Harper's. I think you gave her a touch of your personality, or what I think you would be like. She is only 8 months old now but she is going to know who you are because I'm going to make sure to tell her.

Sisters are forever friends, Harper. I have no blood sisters unlike you but I have a couple friends who are my sisters without being blood related. They are always there to catch me when I fall, to hug me when I cry, to knock me out of my funk when I am down. I can always count on them for a laugh, and to catch my tears when they fall. They are my sisters, my forever friends. Your brother and sisters call them "auntie" because they are my sisters.

 I could not have survived without them...I would have dried up and become nothing without their help, their friendship, their sisterhood. Not even your Super Daddy could have fixed the aches, pains and broken things they did. Your daddy pieced back parts of my heart only he could, but my sisters pieced back the rest that only that kind of love and friendship can. Your Auntie Lee raced back to hold me when she was in Flordia. She held my hand and was my rock when I needed her, she caught hundreds of thousands of tears and cried with me when I mourned you. Your Auntie Karen reached out with her ever loving arms and embraced me in a way only she can do. (Thanks for urging her to come back to Kentucky...I really do appreciate that!) And your Auntie Holly, she held my hand, she cried for me but never with me because she was placed here to be my stone of strength. These are women that I am not sure how I could survive without everyday because they know me, they understand me and they still love me even with all of my faults.

I often find it hard to remember my life before having kids, and like that, I find it hard to remember my life before my sisters came into it. They have just always been there, just like your brother and sisters. Always there for me, walking the rough roads and the easy right beside me. I love them, and it's a bond like no other.
 

These are my forever friends, my sisters. They love you, Harper, in only a way they can. They miss you as much as I do, and even cry for you just like Mommy does. Sisterhood goes beyond death into eternity and these are things I need you to know. That when your sisters cross over to meet you, you will have a bond like no other with them. This is one of the greatest blessings I could have ever given you. You gave me the blessing of having another daughter and bringing me even close to the women that God brought me as sisters.  

I love you Harper, to the moon and back. 

Mommy