Time does not heal all

Dear Harper,

It has been a while since I have written to you, not because I didn't want to write but because words would get jumbled and I couldn't quite figure out what I wanted to say. These letters I write are important and I don't ever want the message to get lost  in a mess of words.

It has been nearly four years since I had to say hello and goodbye in the same moment. Four years have passed in what feels like the blink of an eye. How has this much time passed since I held you in my arms for the only time, given mere moments to last me a lifetime? That, I cannot answer.

What I can answer is that nearly four years later I am still learning to live without you. Life continues to go on and I have had to learn how to continue on. The piece of my heart that went with you is still missing, but yet I still stand here before the world, breathing, even if only barely some days.

They say time heals all wounds but THIS IS A LIE. Time does not heal a wound that is soul-deep. What time does is teach you how to live WITH it. I have you on my mind all the time, carrying you with me as I walk this path. This journey is not one I would wish upon even my worst enemy because it is the hardest storm I have ever weathered. You learn how to live your life with this big gaping hole that never heals. This becomes your new normal, if normal can even exist in your lexicon. You do go on, but it is with new eyes, fresh lenses that show you what the world is worth, the beauty, sadness, reality and ugliness to it all.

You are no longer naive, you begin to see the ugly truths in the world, hidden amongst the shadows. For me, your sister came along very shortly after you, and this brought on a whole new view of having a baby. I cherished every second that I was pregnant, rarely slept, went completely natural during my pregnancy for fear that something would happen to her too.Everything scared me, made me nervous and I could barely think about anything else.  I couldn't fight that battle twice, I couldn't lose a second time. I was scared the whole time. And when she was born, I was scared because something might happen while I slept...so I never slept at night. I slept when others were keeping a very close eye on her. I don't think I slept a single night her entire first year and now...she's going to be three. Was it my pained vigilance that kept her here? I don't know but I wouldn't change it for a second. There are so many things in my past I would change but not who I was once you were gone.

Here we are, nearly four years later, and I am still learning how to cope, how to breathe, how to live without you. I have been working on ideas for your birthday. I am still promoting those random acts of kindness in your honor. I speak your name louder than ever before, because every time I don't, a little piece of you dies which means a little piece of me dies. And we can't have that. The world will know your name and it will echo on the whispers of the wind.

 I do not let your death define me. I do not let your death occupy all of my emotions and thoughts. I do not let your death control me. While some days are hard, when I realize that I will never think about getting papers together for you to start school, or if you would take ballet with your sisters, I can find a quiet peace in knowing that YOU WERE REAL. Your tiny foot left an imprint so deep no one could forget it. I rejoice in knowing you at all. There is beauty in that. Your death opened my eyes wider and brighter than they have ever been.

Some day, I will understand the pain that has been given to me in your loss. Until then, I keep breathing, keep walking, keep writing, in hopes that I can help someone else that is grieving their child. So they can begin to see that there is beauty in suffering, that GREAT things come from a great loss. You, my sweet bean, are doing greater things than I could have ever imagined.

And once the storm is over you won't remember how you made it through, how you managed to survive. You won't even be sure, in fact, whether the storm is really over. But one thing is certain, when you come out of the storm you won't be the same person who walked in. ~Haruki Murakami

I love you darling girl,

I miss you,

Mommy

Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms. She is breathing but she is dying. She may look young, but inside she has become ancient. She smiles, but her heart sobs. She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS but she IS NOT, all at once. She is here but part of her is elsewhere for eternity. ~Unknown

How I Wish You Were Here

Dear Harper,

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

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

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

 

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

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

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



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

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

How I wish. How I wish you were here.

Love you,

Mommy

Falling into place

Dear Harper,

Today the weather is perfect, it's not too hot and it's not too cold. I have the windows open and the breeze is coursing through the house. It is fall. 

This time of year is my favorite, the colors and the smell of people burning leaves. But it also leaves me with an empty feeling, like something is missing. 

You were due to arrive in the fall. Set amongst gorgeous colors and the scents that I love. Your dark brown hair and peachy skin set amongst the leaves fallen for your first photo session. 

I am reminded that you aren't here to see the wonders of the world as I slide the locks open on the windows and pull them down, letting the fresh air inside. 

I've pulled out all the decorations for our home and started placing them. And I am reminded very much of the place that you have here. Reminded how things can change in the blink of an eye. 

You may not have a room, you may not have boxes full of toys and a closet full of clothes but you're here. You're here coursing through my veins, here holding your brother and sister's hands as they make new strides every day. You are here reminding your dad how amazing he is. 

You are here! In the place you were meant to be. It may not be in my arms for a night time snuggle, or splashing in the bath tub. But you're here, the glue that holds our little piece of crazy together. 

I can't say that it is what I wanted. I can't say that this was my wish for our lives. But, I can say that you've made me a better person and for that I am thankful. 

So, as I drag out all my decorations for this time of year to make autumn inside the house I happily find only the things I love to decorate the mantle for you. All the pieces of life just fall into place. 

I love you sweet bean. 

Love,

Mommy

Like a dream

Dear Harper,

I have been thinking about you a lot lately. And then today I read a blog post from the baby loss community and it made me realize so many things about our journey. 

People dance around their feelings out of fear of someone thinking they are wrong. I,too, am guilty of this, I don't post things because I often worry how they will be perceived. That being said, I am a new me and I'm stepping out from behind that curtain and talking more openly. More honestly. Let me be clear, this post is not for the faint of heart. It's a mess and some of it ugly. But it's my mess and I wouldn't change it for the world. 

We dance around words. Try to make things prettier than they are. The fact is, you died. You didn't get to greet this world with screaming. You came into this world silently. I remember the moments vividly. But saying that you died sounds ugly so I waltzed around it and used nicer words when speaking of our story. 

Even as I held your lifeless body in my arms, I felt many things. I was heartbroken beyond the explanation of mere words. But I had an overwhelming sense of pride. Mixed with my grief was a small joy. You were BEAUTIFUL and I made you. I was a proud mother. I was proud of the sheer divinity that I had created. I felt that there was no truer words than the saying 'too beautiful for earth'. 

According to the etiquette of life, as given to us by society, it was wrong for me to have that moment of pride when the circumstances were nothing but cumbersome. But, Harper Lynn, you were beautiful and I was proud! I looked at your sweet little face, laying in my arms so peaceful and I cried. 

I wept because you would never see the nursery, you would never meet your siblings and no longer would you hear the sound of my voice whisking you away to dreamland. I wept because of your perfect little face, and perfect tiny fingers and perfect tiny toes. I sobbed as I held you, from pain, from pride. How could grief and joy mix so harmoniously on July 12, 2010? That's not right. I shouldn't have felt those things together. Or so I am told.

I spent the next 12 hours with you. Hoping, wishing that things were different. Yet I found smiles amongst the tears as I ran my hands over your short black hair. It reminded me of your grandma. I sat in a sobering silence as the nurse wheeled you out of my room for the last time. I gazed upon the bassinet which held my daughter. The one who died. 

I sat in silence for the rest of the day. The nurses came in and out, feeding me pills to make me forget. But how do you forget losing a piece of your own soul? People came in and out, I spoke, mostly out of a drugged stupor. Remember not the things I said because I don't. 

I remember listening to a newborn scream in the neighboring room all night that night and I was angry. I was red with anger. Not because I lost my baby but because that baby needed to be held and the new mom was 'too tired' to do it. So the baby went to the nursery. I would have killed to hold that baby, to tell it that everything was okay and that it was loved. 

I remember walking across the hallway to the nurses station that is nestled in the center of the birthing rooms, nursery and patient rooms. I stared at the door of the delivery room you were born in. It's not with the others, it's by itself in a corner. It's for those moms who don't get to show the world their baby.  Then the nurse asked me if she could help me, it broke my stare and I remember looking at her somberly. 

I lost track of the conversation with her, maybe because of all the medications I was on. But I heard a baby cry, so I looked past her and saw a deliciously fat baby waiting for placement in a foster home. I wanted to hold her. Love her too. But instead I had to be brought back to reality. The nurse, so nicely and carefully brought me back to the reality that you had died and asked if I needed help. I did need her help...I needed her help filling out your stillbirth paperwork. I wasn't sure what boxes to check. 

That night in the hospital was nothing but sobering. Filling out papers saying you were dead, figuring out how to arrange a funeral for a baby, and knowing you were just down the hall...in a morgue. I can't remember much after the paperwork, they medicated me some more and tucked me in for the night. 

The next morning, I woke and I showered. I stood in the tiny bathroom looking at my belly. Trying to comprehend how yesterday I had a baby and today I didn't. And I got mad. I wanted to go home. I wanted out, NOW! I wanted to go home and explain to my kids that they weren't going to have a sister in the capacity that we had talked about. I washed my hands as I looked at my own tear stained face in the mirror, I remember losing focus again on the water rushing down the drain and realizing that water held a lifetime of dreams. 

The doctor came to check on me, I remember your dad doing most of the talking because I had little to say to anyone. The nurses brought us things and told us things and I didn't hear them. Their words fell upon deaf ears. I remember wanting to go home. He said I could go, he'd have the discharge papers done and in about half hour I could go home. I nodded ever so slightly as he walked out the door. 

What was that? All the rushing we heard as soon as he walked out. There was a ruckus being raised and I wasn't amused. I sat on the side of the stupid bed, in the stupid hospital, waiting for a stupid doctor to let me go get in my damn car and go home to a babyless home. Your dad went out to see what was taking so long. Oh great, I couldn't leave this nightmare behind  because someone had a baby. I was mad, I just needed out. 

Finally, after what felt like years, the nurse brought some papers that your dad took. And next thing I knew I was walking down soulless hallways through an endless maze to the doors of the hospital  carrying all that would ever be considered your belongings. 

I walked into the house, to your brothers room and climbed into the bed you and I had shared for the last 6 weeks while I was on bed rest. And I went to sleep. I didn't eat. Didn't talk. Just slept. 

I had to plan your funeral the next day. Flowers came, cards came, your service came and went. I remember very little. Just the black hole of a mind that I was swimming in. I came and went but didn't have much to say. I took my medicine and breathed. 

You couldn't ask for much of me. That was all I could manage, breathing. People checked in, I faked the smiles, and I was nothing but a shell of a mom to your brother and sister. If it hadn't been for Holly, your sister wouldn't have had much of a birthday. I just couldn't muster it. My birthday was spent teetering on the edge of madness and with family. Your grandparents took us to dinner. I tried hard to enjoy it but without you there just wasn't much to enjoy. 

The days and weeks passed, I spoke of you often, cried even more, and just breathed. I had given up, I wasn't a person, I was the remnants of a once very lively person...I was letting it all go. 

I threw myself into volunteering in your sister's kindergarten class. I did PTA stuff. I was spending as much time at school as they were. It kept me from being with the demons in my own head. Kept me from succumbing to the emptiness. 

And mere weeks after your slight moment on earth, I got two lines on the pregnancy test. I was having a baby. 

Honestly, I thought it would fix me but all that positive test did was create a sheer panic. I wanted to be excited, I wanted to be happy. I wanted to be elated about it. But I couldn't get over the idea that, whoever was on their way, would die too. How do you get excited about something that you've already decided you most certainly won't get to keep? 

It was a gauntlet of emotion. If it was to be felt, I felt it. I was scared. Scared if having to do it again. Scared of losing another child, which I knew that my heart could not handle. It would be the final nail in the coffin. Which as I typed that, I giggled because it such a morbid thing to type in a post such as thing. But it is nothing but the truth. 

Life was zooming around me as I stood still. Weeks passed with the pregnancy, my belly grew, I saw you weekly on that screen, heard your tiny heart beating stronger and stronger. But I was still hanging on to the what ifs. It made it hard to be over the moon. 

And then the day came that they asked if I wanted to know what the baby was. Of course I wanted to know. But then those words escaped the technicians mouth, it's a girl. I felt a rush of many things in that moment. Was I going to get to keep her? Was this really happening? I need more pink! We need things for her! I want pink! 

Over the course of the pregnancy I went through ups and downs, emotionally and physically. And as we neared the end of wait, I was beginning to feel the excitement. Her room was ready and she was named after you, Harlyn. 

She got here, I heard the tiny cry from the massive squishy baby and my heart stopped, tears bled down my face. But it was mixed emotions. It was more than I understood. I was sobbing because my perseverance had paid off but also because I was here, I was having another baby because you weren't here. It took me down a quick flash of memory lane. I cried because you were gone and because she was here. 

There is more truth than can be written when I say that Harlyn saved my life. She pulled me from the abyss I was losing myself in, she made me able to move forward, she made me realize that I could miss you and be happy. It wasn't until I saw her that I felt happy again. She was massive, and beautiful, and she looked just like you. It was stunning to see her face and see your resemblance. 

I spent 10 months so afraid I would forget you that I forgot to live. And in the moment of seeing your sister's face and seeing you there I knew that she would never let me forget a moment. You and her did something amazing on June 6, 2011. Without being here, you made me realize that I was going to be okay. That even without you in my arms I was gonna live.

I spent her first months sleeping only when others were awake. I stared at her all night every night because it was so surreal to finally, after 18 months of being pregnant, had a baby to call mine. A baby that was here. There was fear mixed with that. I was scared she would be gone when I woke up. 

She is two and a half. And it's been two and a half years of crazy, insane fun. I miss you everyday. But Harlyn showed me that I'm allowed to be happy even though you're gone. Doesn't change that I love you, or that I miss you. Or that I teeter into the abyss sometimes when things get overwhelming. That pain is a welcome visitor at times because it helps remind me that I need to never take anything for granted. And it reminds me that you were here and weren't just a figment of my imagination. 

Three and a half years ago my life was flipped inside out and I was tossed into an abyss that only I could climb out of. Three and a half years later, I stand before you, still breathing, still living, my heart still beating. I am living a dream. 

Happy Birthday Darling

Today is your birthday, it's bittersweet for me. You're not here yet we celebrate. Happy 3rd birthday my darling. Three years have come and gone in the flash of an eye. 

I sit here on the deck watching the stars and listening to the grasshoppers sing as I type this out.

How can one's heart be so heavy yet so light and joyful? It's impossible to answer, yet, here I sit feeling this way. Sorrowful yet elated. 

There are so many things I wish you could see. So many things I wish I could show you. I'm sure you see all that I do from where you are but it would be grand to put you on my shoulders and let you see the world from here. It brings me pain to know that I can't ever do this with you in this life. 

The overwhelming sense of joy comes from seeing all the great things that were accomplished today in your honor, in your name. Pure unadulterated happiness spews from within knowing that your name rang openly across the world today. That so many acts of kindness were bestowed upon society for you and by you. 

I sit here writing this blog with a heavy yet happy heart and tears both sad & happy stain my face. I miss you more than I could ever put into words but seeing your greatness put into solid action today was stupendous. 

Today was not cumbersome. Today was not dreary. Today was not filled with gloom. It was beautiful, filled with happiness, filled with grandeur, and with smiles. 

I smiled more today than I have in probably a year. They were genuine and heartfelt smiles as I opened the doors for others, as I said hello to every single person I saw today. My heart danced in pure bliss as I walked through the day. Feeling my phone shake in my pocket as I worked and seeing messages for you. 

I passed on many acts of kindness for you. I giggled in delight every time I saw another one taking place. 

Everyday is a new learning experience for me. Today's lesson was that kindness IS contagious. You show your smile and the world smiles back. You put out positive vibes and the vibration you receive is positive. Lessons in life are given when you least expect them. And sometimes in the hardest ways. Thank you sweet child, for the lessons you have taught me over the last three years. You amaze me! 

While I wish more than anything that things were different and that you were here with me I still feel blessed to have known you at all. You are one incredible little girl. 

You've made me a better mother, a better person and reminded me that I believe that people are inherently good. That this world, while lurking with evil, is a beautiful and happy place. For these lessons I can never repay you. 

Happy Birthday Harper. You are loved and missed. 

Love always,

Mommy

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

YOU'VE BEEN RAK'D!!!

Dear Harper,

Last year I decided that your birthday would become my Random Act of Kindness day. I always do small things throughout the year but I try exceptionally hard on your birthday. The smallest act of kindness is worth more than the grandest intention. Your birthday is this Friday so that means the world should be prepared to be RAK'd.

Last year, your dad and I took it throughout the online gaming community that we were a part of. It was infectious. The people we shared the idea with took it even further than we could have ever dreamed and passed the message and your name along. Asking everyone, posting on their facebooks, emailing and texting asking everyone they knew to commit a random act of kindness. ALL FOR YOU.  Who knows how many random acts were committed last year all in your name.

Baby girl you are doing amazing things from where you are. You blow my mind everyday in every way. Some how you manage to dip your finger into everything we do. You are changing the world one person at a time. Enlightening hearts and sending spirits soaring. Let's see how we can RAK it up this year!

I love you Bean!

Love Mommy

For all my readers and followers, Look below for some ideas on how to RAK it up. A RAK doesn't have to cost money, it can be as simple as a hello or a hug. I have attached a printable sheet of RAK cards to hand out when you do something.

• Say hello to someone
• Tape quarters to the candy machines at the grocery store and place a card that says YOU"VE BEEN RAK'D. 
• Hold the door for someone
• Go to a nursing home and spend some time with the people who live there
• Help someone who's car is broken down
• Help someone with yard work
• Read to kids at the library
• Let someone have your place in line
• Pick up trash at the park
• Make a new friend
• Make someone smile
• Buy the person in line behind you's coffee or meal
• Write a letter to someone who inspired you
• Visit the animal shelter
• Donate books/clothes/food to a charity
• Listen to someone in need
• Be a Designated Driver
• Adopt a soldier
• Donate that $1 at the store for whatever cause they are collecting for
• Tape a RAK card and a package of popcorn to the redbox in your area

There are so many many things you can do for your RAK!

You can find more here:

Kindness Ideas

100 Ideas for Good Karma - RAK

RAK for Harper Pinterest board

Participating in RAK for Harper will make your heart and soul feel good! Help me spread love and joy on Friday July 12, 2010.

 

PRINTABLE RAK CARDS:

 HEY...PSSST! PASS THIS ON! Send this link all over the world, let RAKs happen everywhere. Help me spread the love!

HAPPY RAK-ING!

When you commit a RAK please comment and let us know! 

OUR RAK CARDS!