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
Monday, April 30, 2012
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
Monday, March 26, 2012
Have you ever seen the rain...
Dear Harper,
I was driving home on Saturday night, it was late and you see I had just gone to get Brianna from Aunt Julie's house. It was a sleepover gone awry, your big sister was homesick so I drove the half hour down to get her. Aunt Lee went with me because daddy was already in bed asleep and I hate driving by myself and it was a half hour drive each way. We listened to my iPod on the drive and it was all fun, bouncy, loud songs (and some of your baby sister's baby Einstein stuff.)
On the way home I turned it down low so your sister could doze in the car. I dropped Aunt Lee at her house on my way home and I turned the radio up slightly. Your message was coming across loud and clear, I love when that happens. As I turned the dial up just a couple of notches the song ended and the next began...Tears in Heaven. I smiled a little smile. *Thanks baby girl* I whispered in the quiet dark. This was, of course, one of the songs I played at your funeral. (It still feels unreal to type those words...at your funeral.) We played Somewhere Over the Rainbow too, it just seemed fitting for you. I let it play through, these songs no longer make me cry but smile because of how much I love you.
As I crossed the railroad tracks and headed toward our house the song changes again. Have you ever seen the rain....the words pierced my ears.
"'Til forever on it goes through the circle fast and slow,
I know, and it can't stop, I wonder.
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
comin' down on a sunny day?"
Tears burned my eyes, by this time I was sitting in my driveway, it was almost midnight but I couldn't turn the car off, I couldn't just turn this song off. It was so much of how I have felt in the last year and a half, so much of what I was feeling in that moment.
I realize now, why when the stages of grief are pictured it is done in a circle. It never ends, you are just at different stages at different points. At that moment in the car I felt myself circle through all of them again. I hurt so bad in the 3 minutes, I longed for you. But in that moment I knew that you are always with me.
I had experienced the calm before the storm, I had seen the rain. Everyday, as I look into your brother and sister's faces, I see the rain comin' down on a sunny day
I miss you Bean, and I love you even more.
Love always and forever,
Mommy
I wanna know...have you ever seen the rain
I was driving home on Saturday night, it was late and you see I had just gone to get Brianna from Aunt Julie's house. It was a sleepover gone awry, your big sister was homesick so I drove the half hour down to get her. Aunt Lee went with me because daddy was already in bed asleep and I hate driving by myself and it was a half hour drive each way. We listened to my iPod on the drive and it was all fun, bouncy, loud songs (and some of your baby sister's baby Einstein stuff.)
On the way home I turned it down low so your sister could doze in the car. I dropped Aunt Lee at her house on my way home and I turned the radio up slightly. Your message was coming across loud and clear, I love when that happens. As I turned the dial up just a couple of notches the song ended and the next began...Tears in Heaven. I smiled a little smile. *Thanks baby girl* I whispered in the quiet dark. This was, of course, one of the songs I played at your funeral. (It still feels unreal to type those words...at your funeral.) We played Somewhere Over the Rainbow too, it just seemed fitting for you. I let it play through, these songs no longer make me cry but smile because of how much I love you.
As I crossed the railroad tracks and headed toward our house the song changes again. Have you ever seen the rain....the words pierced my ears.
"'Til forever on it goes through the circle fast and slow,
I know, and it can't stop, I wonder.
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain?
I want to know, have you ever seen the rain
comin' down on a sunny day?"
Tears burned my eyes, by this time I was sitting in my driveway, it was almost midnight but I couldn't turn the car off, I couldn't just turn this song off. It was so much of how I have felt in the last year and a half, so much of what I was feeling in that moment.
I realize now, why when the stages of grief are pictured it is done in a circle. It never ends, you are just at different stages at different points. At that moment in the car I felt myself circle through all of them again. I hurt so bad in the 3 minutes, I longed for you. But in that moment I knew that you are always with me.
I had experienced the calm before the storm, I had seen the rain. Everyday, as I look into your brother and sister's faces, I see the rain comin' down on a sunny day
I miss you Bean, and I love you even more.
Love always and forever,
Mommy
I wanna know...have you ever seen the rain
Wednesday, March 21, 2012
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
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
Monday, March 19, 2012
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.
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
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.
- Denial
- Anger
- Bargaining
- Depression
- Guilt
- Obsession
- Acceptance
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
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