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
Thursday, May 17, 2012
Wednesday, May 9, 2012
Little Black Dress
Dear Harper,
Sunday your baby sister turned 11 months old. How can this be? I was just holding you, I was just about to turn 28 and now here I am, about to turn 30 and you would be about to turn 2. Life is flashing away before my eyes. My friend Sarah in Texas said she calls it "2nd year blues" and I think she is right. Her son, Max and you share a birthday.
Sunday was also International Bereaved Mother's Day and it was River's birthday. My heart was laden with love and prayers for Deanna that the day would be easy on her. What a day already...We were going to spend the day with Sammi & Mallory for our standing date Sunday. I got in the car to go and "She Talks to Angels" by the Black Crowes was on the radio...fitting.
Our friends, Elisha and Daniel, welcomed their second child into the world on Sunday as well, sweet baby Mason. I had gotten the text that her water had broken before we left to go to Sammi's but she was having trouble with labor stopping and so on. I thought it would be Monday before he was born,I was determined to go see her when he was born, that's what friends do, they see each other when their babies are born...they see each other when they die too. Daniel came to see us at the funeral home instead of a hospital with you.
I was looking for something to wear to the hospital. I had been with Sammi & Mallory all day, I had on my old sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt, unacceptable to wear to the hospital. My jeans were in the laundry and it was turning out to just be one of those days where none of my clothes were fitting right...it was a sweat pants day. Sammi was keeping the girls so I could go down and see Mason (and his momma) and I had to find something to wear.
Your daddy sat on the bed in our room watching me filter through everything in the laundry basket and everything in my dresser, even my yoga pants were dirty. I finally gave up and went to the closet, I thought I might be able to find something in there. I did...I found a hefty serving of heartache.
As I was slipping my fingers over the hangers and moving them from the left to the right looking to see what I had that I could wear to the hospital I saw something black in the very back that I hadn't remembered seeing there all the countless times I looked in there. I move everything to the right so I can pull it out, wondering what it is, only to find that it was the dress I wore to your funeral...a little black dress.
The dress had been purchased, I remember the day I bought it, with the intent to wear to your baby shower. We were doing something elegant for you, something like a tea and I wanted to wear a nice dress. It hung in Kaden's closet forever, because I was living in his room while you were in my belly, I wasn't allowed to do stairs. I bought it the same day that Mom bought the invitations to your shower. So much hope, so much intention.
I held the hanger up, the dress hangs solemnly off of it. I turn it and look at the front and back as tears fall down my face. It was like watching all the intentions of that little black dress fall to the floor. The song "Lightning Crashes" by Live was running through my brain. I felt it through my whole body. I hung the dress back in the closet and stood there, staring at it. My heart was beating sporadically because I wasn't expecting something so small to do so much to me...but then again you were so small and took my heart.
Sunday, it's a day of rest, and for me it was a day of mourning, a day of rejoicing, a day of sorrow and a day of joy. That little black dress left me in a daze and thrown for a loop...I cried all the way to the hospital to see Mason.Second year blues seems so fitting...
Terrible twos aren't just for babies anymore are they?
Time goes on and I can breathe, and I can function without but Sunday...the grief just washed me in a stain of black...a veil of grief. I love you Bean, I miss you so much.
Love always,
Mommy
Sunday your baby sister turned 11 months old. How can this be? I was just holding you, I was just about to turn 28 and now here I am, about to turn 30 and you would be about to turn 2. Life is flashing away before my eyes. My friend Sarah in Texas said she calls it "2nd year blues" and I think she is right. Her son, Max and you share a birthday.
Sunday was also International Bereaved Mother's Day and it was River's birthday. My heart was laden with love and prayers for Deanna that the day would be easy on her. What a day already...We were going to spend the day with Sammi & Mallory for our standing date Sunday. I got in the car to go and "She Talks to Angels" by the Black Crowes was on the radio...fitting.
Our friends, Elisha and Daniel, welcomed their second child into the world on Sunday as well, sweet baby Mason. I had gotten the text that her water had broken before we left to go to Sammi's but she was having trouble with labor stopping and so on. I thought it would be Monday before he was born,I was determined to go see her when he was born, that's what friends do, they see each other when their babies are born...they see each other when they die too. Daniel came to see us at the funeral home instead of a hospital with you.
I was looking for something to wear to the hospital. I had been with Sammi & Mallory all day, I had on my old sweat pants and a ratty t-shirt, unacceptable to wear to the hospital. My jeans were in the laundry and it was turning out to just be one of those days where none of my clothes were fitting right...it was a sweat pants day. Sammi was keeping the girls so I could go down and see Mason (and his momma) and I had to find something to wear.
Your daddy sat on the bed in our room watching me filter through everything in the laundry basket and everything in my dresser, even my yoga pants were dirty. I finally gave up and went to the closet, I thought I might be able to find something in there. I did...I found a hefty serving of heartache.
As I was slipping my fingers over the hangers and moving them from the left to the right looking to see what I had that I could wear to the hospital I saw something black in the very back that I hadn't remembered seeing there all the countless times I looked in there. I move everything to the right so I can pull it out, wondering what it is, only to find that it was the dress I wore to your funeral...a little black dress.
The dress had been purchased, I remember the day I bought it, with the intent to wear to your baby shower. We were doing something elegant for you, something like a tea and I wanted to wear a nice dress. It hung in Kaden's closet forever, because I was living in his room while you were in my belly, I wasn't allowed to do stairs. I bought it the same day that Mom bought the invitations to your shower. So much hope, so much intention.
I held the hanger up, the dress hangs solemnly off of it. I turn it and look at the front and back as tears fall down my face. It was like watching all the intentions of that little black dress fall to the floor. The song "Lightning Crashes" by Live was running through my brain. I felt it through my whole body. I hung the dress back in the closet and stood there, staring at it. My heart was beating sporadically because I wasn't expecting something so small to do so much to me...but then again you were so small and took my heart.
Sunday, it's a day of rest, and for me it was a day of mourning, a day of rejoicing, a day of sorrow and a day of joy. That little black dress left me in a daze and thrown for a loop...I cried all the way to the hospital to see Mason.Second year blues seems so fitting...
Terrible twos aren't just for babies anymore are they?
Time goes on and I can breathe, and I can function without but Sunday...the grief just washed me in a stain of black...a veil of grief. I love you Bean, I miss you so much.
Love always,
Mommy
Tuesday, May 1, 2012
Fear....less
Dear Harper,
It's funny, we are approaching 22 months since you left my arms. You would think that the longer you are gone the easier it would be for me to live. That's not the case, I am fearful that I won't remember your smell, your face, you tiny hands and feet. I am fearful that I will forget what you felt like in my arms.
These fears make the pain magnified. It makes my chest want to implode because it is hard to breathe, it hurts, it makes my heart work twice as hard to beat. It is in these moments when I hold my head up and realize that I can move on, that the fears are invalid. I look at pictures and see your face. I can hold your blanket when I need to remember your scent. It is forever engrained into my soul, the way you smelled. Like newborn baby, before a bath and that standard pink baby lotion combined to make the most heavenly smell, your scent. Yours and yours alone. None of your siblings smelled like that, it is only you. I forget often, just how light you were in my arms. I see the tiny clothes on the wall in my house and remember just how small and fragile you were. Life flashes before my eyes, all those moments with you played out again, my heart stops, even if just for that moment.
I let the tears fall freely for you. To stop them makes the pain worse. To hinder them is like trying to hide my love for you. The more days that pass the more those fears arise in me. I really thought things would be easier this year and they are not. I think it is because I am watching your baby sister do all the things you should be doing. I am overjoyed because I get to be excited for her milestones, but also saddened because I am missing yours.
I wanted you so bad. I want you before I knew I had you. I loved you with every ounce of my being the moment that test said "pregnant". I loved you while I laid in the hospital, in labor with you, knowing you weren't coming home. I love you still, I love you like you are here. I am so scared that I am going to forget all of the things from your birth. All the pain, the heartache but also the joy because you were so perfect and beautiful.
The fear of forgetting makes the pain ten fold. You won't ever let me forget though, you are always here by my side, in the good times and the bad, you are here, never letting me forget how much I love you. I see you everyday in your sister's smile, or Birdie's giggle. I love you Bean, never forget that.
I love you, always & forever.
Mommy
It's funny, we are approaching 22 months since you left my arms. You would think that the longer you are gone the easier it would be for me to live. That's not the case, I am fearful that I won't remember your smell, your face, you tiny hands and feet. I am fearful that I will forget what you felt like in my arms.
These fears make the pain magnified. It makes my chest want to implode because it is hard to breathe, it hurts, it makes my heart work twice as hard to beat. It is in these moments when I hold my head up and realize that I can move on, that the fears are invalid. I look at pictures and see your face. I can hold your blanket when I need to remember your scent. It is forever engrained into my soul, the way you smelled. Like newborn baby, before a bath and that standard pink baby lotion combined to make the most heavenly smell, your scent. Yours and yours alone. None of your siblings smelled like that, it is only you. I forget often, just how light you were in my arms. I see the tiny clothes on the wall in my house and remember just how small and fragile you were. Life flashes before my eyes, all those moments with you played out again, my heart stops, even if just for that moment.
I let the tears fall freely for you. To stop them makes the pain worse. To hinder them is like trying to hide my love for you. The more days that pass the more those fears arise in me. I really thought things would be easier this year and they are not. I think it is because I am watching your baby sister do all the things you should be doing. I am overjoyed because I get to be excited for her milestones, but also saddened because I am missing yours.
I wanted you so bad. I want you before I knew I had you. I loved you with every ounce of my being the moment that test said "pregnant". I loved you while I laid in the hospital, in labor with you, knowing you weren't coming home. I love you still, I love you like you are here. I am so scared that I am going to forget all of the things from your birth. All the pain, the heartache but also the joy because you were so perfect and beautiful.
The fear of forgetting makes the pain ten fold. You won't ever let me forget though, you are always here by my side, in the good times and the bad, you are here, never letting me forget how much I love you. I see you everyday in your sister's smile, or Birdie's giggle. I love you Bean, never forget that.
You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You must do the thing which you think you cannot do.
Mommy
Monday, April 30, 2012
Heavy...
Dear Harper,
My heart is heavy today...not totally sure why, I know it's because I miss you. I know it's because I want you here with me.
I am missing you and it makes me hurt so badly. I am hurting for little baby Leah who has been fighting for her life since her birth, and it's a daily battle to keep her here. I watch her mom and dad constantly find strength to carry on. I watch my news feed on Facebook for new pictures of her because she is the most darling little girl. I watch them suffer and it makes me hurt for you. It makes me long to hold you again. It makes me want to reach out to hug them but I know can't because they are so far away.
I think it could also be because there is a mom in Texas fighting for twins' lives. I am hurting for her because I don't want her to suffer the pain I know all too well. This pain is not one I would wish upon my worst enemy. Here I am, nearly 2 years later, hurting still. This is not something I want for Diana or twin boys. I prayed for her this morning, and I have thought over and over today that I wish I could send you to her, to watch over her until her babies reach 24 weeks. I don't know her, but I cried for her because I have been where she is right now. We kept praying to just reach 30 weeks and you would be delivered and tiny but you would make it.It takes a strong woman to hold hope like that, to be an advocate for someone you have only known through wiggles, kicks and heartburn, but then again it so easy to advocate for someone you love. She is so brave for what she is going through.
I read an article about a baby who was born with a disease that will kill her before her 2nd birthday, or so they say. Her story made me sob uncontrollably because I could not imagine holding you in my arms knowing that you may die at any minute. How strong are they? They are Hercules in my book.
Before you lose a baby you never hear much of it, it is so taboo to talk of such things. After you lose a baby you hear about it all the time. I was so shocked to see how many women in my community, women that I went to school with are wearing that same pair of shoes that I wear. It is not a club I wanted to join, but I was chosen to join.
Sometimes, when I am sitting here my chest gets tight while I try to write these letters. My eyes well up with tears. I ache for your, to hold you, to know who you would have been. It's a heavy, the loss of a baby, the loss of a child. It is like a pair of concrete boots that weigh you down but let you continue on in life.
This weekend is my friend Deanna's charity run & ride for her son River. I am guessing you know River, I think you guys brought us together so we could support one another. There are no accidents in things like this, everything is planned, sneaky little kids. It makes me smile when I think about the things you get in to while waiting for us. I want you to be there for her too, she will need you all to hold her up, she will need your wings.
I hate asking so much of you baby girl, but I know you know who needs you the most.I will send all the prayers I can. I always say them in your name. You do so much good for someone so little.
I miss you so much that when my tears fall it feels like my heart is breaking for you all over again.
I love you Bean,
Mommy
Hearts for Diana
Princess Leah's Story
River's Run & Ride Rally facebook event
River's Rally Website
My heart is heavy today...not totally sure why, I know it's because I miss you. I know it's because I want you here with me.
I am missing you and it makes me hurt so badly. I am hurting for little baby Leah who has been fighting for her life since her birth, and it's a daily battle to keep her here. I watch her mom and dad constantly find strength to carry on. I watch my news feed on Facebook for new pictures of her because she is the most darling little girl. I watch them suffer and it makes me hurt for you. It makes me long to hold you again. It makes me want to reach out to hug them but I know can't because they are so far away.
I think it could also be because there is a mom in Texas fighting for twins' lives. I am hurting for her because I don't want her to suffer the pain I know all too well. This pain is not one I would wish upon my worst enemy. Here I am, nearly 2 years later, hurting still. This is not something I want for Diana or twin boys. I prayed for her this morning, and I have thought over and over today that I wish I could send you to her, to watch over her until her babies reach 24 weeks. I don't know her, but I cried for her because I have been where she is right now. We kept praying to just reach 30 weeks and you would be delivered and tiny but you would make it.It takes a strong woman to hold hope like that, to be an advocate for someone you have only known through wiggles, kicks and heartburn, but then again it so easy to advocate for someone you love. She is so brave for what she is going through.
I read an article about a baby who was born with a disease that will kill her before her 2nd birthday, or so they say. Her story made me sob uncontrollably because I could not imagine holding you in my arms knowing that you may die at any minute. How strong are they? They are Hercules in my book.
Before you lose a baby you never hear much of it, it is so taboo to talk of such things. After you lose a baby you hear about it all the time. I was so shocked to see how many women in my community, women that I went to school with are wearing that same pair of shoes that I wear. It is not a club I wanted to join, but I was chosen to join.
Sometimes, when I am sitting here my chest gets tight while I try to write these letters. My eyes well up with tears. I ache for your, to hold you, to know who you would have been. It's a heavy, the loss of a baby, the loss of a child. It is like a pair of concrete boots that weigh you down but let you continue on in life.
This weekend is my friend Deanna's charity run & ride for her son River. I am guessing you know River, I think you guys brought us together so we could support one another. There are no accidents in things like this, everything is planned, sneaky little kids. It makes me smile when I think about the things you get in to while waiting for us. I want you to be there for her too, she will need you all to hold her up, she will need your wings.
I hate asking so much of you baby girl, but I know you know who needs you the most.I will send all the prayers I can. I always say them in your name. You do so much good for someone so little.
I miss you so much that when my tears fall it feels like my heart is breaking for you all over again.
I love you Bean,
Mommy
Hearts for Diana
Princess Leah's Story
River's Run & Ride Rally facebook event
River's Rally Website
Monday, April 16, 2012
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
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
Sunday, April 8, 2012
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
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
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
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
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
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