A letter to my neighbor

Dear neighbor,
I'm sorry about this morning. Seeing you at the doctor's office with a string of photos from your 20 week ultrasound really caught me off guard. I don't really know what my face looked like when you asked me if I wanted to see the pictures of your little guy. It may have seemed like I was horrified. I know I kinda froze. I didn't know what to do. I just realized that's what I should be doing right now and it hit me kinda hard. If there was ever a time for divine intervention I'm pretty sure it was then - the nurse calling my name right at that second. I kinda ran. I don't remember if I even said goodbye or anything. I was shocked and hurt. Not really by you - by circumstances. I know you're worried I was mad at you. I'm not. Hurt - but not because you are expecting a baby or I wouldn't want to see your pictures. I just suddenly realized I should be 19 weeks right now. And I'm not. There's no ultrasound pictures for me. No tiny flutters. The fact that I even had to be at the doctor trying to find out why I am still hurting so much from the d&c almost 2 months ago is awful. I didn't think I would run into anyone I knew, much less someone I knew due the same time I was. The doctor didn't find any reasons I should still be hurting, but I am. She said it could be a form of depression. It was not a particularly cheerful morning for me at the doctor's office.

I know you don't understand my struggles right now. It's not often we truly can understand another human beings struggles. That's what our Savior is for. He understands everything. And He will make it so all our pain is gone. You reminded me of that when you texted me today apologizing for being foolish. I didn't feel like you were foolish at all. You don't understand. And truthfully, I'm grateful you don't understand. It means you've never had this struggle. I hope you never do.

A friend and I were recently talking about when you lose a child you become part of a club. A horrible club that no one ever really wants to be a part of. As much as I wish that there wasn't a club, I find myself equally grateful that there are people out there who do understand. Oh, they don't truly know how I'm feeling, none of them are me. Even my dear husband who has been with me every step of the way doesn't truly understand MY pain. The Savior is the only one who can truly understand exactly how I feel. I don't know how he does it. But that is the promise and I believe it. I have good friends who know instantly when I say "I am sad today" that I mean far more than what I just said. Sometimes I need people who understand on that level. I cannot even express how much I love those friends I have made who understand. We hope and pray that no one else will have to join our club. But people keep joining the club. And when they do we open our arms for them and we cry. We hold them and cry for them, we cry for us, too. We cry because sometimes life is hard and we understand on a totally different level than a lot of people. I suppose there are clubs for every kind of trial we go through. If we are willing to open up to others we find there are others in the same club. Others who open their arms and share with us our burdens. It doesn't mean the burdens are gone, not by a long shot. But it does help ease the burdens to have someone willing to share it with us.

You've probably seen me posting pictures of flowers like crazy lately. That's what I get to share about my babies. I know there are people who think it's kind of weird, but that's the way I get to share my babies that aren't on earth. I try to keep Facebook pretty positive, but I can't ignore the fact that they are my kids, even if the world can't see them. They are mine, and I happily post pictures of them. I have a miniature rose for each of my kids. This is the first time this summer they've all had blossoms at the same time. So I braved a hail storm to rescue these 5 flowers. Yeah, I may be a little crazy...but it seemed like a good idea at the time. And my husband got a kick out of it, too.

Please don't be upset if I don't take you up on your offer to come hold your new baby in February. I don't really know how I will be feeling then - but I imagine it will be rough. I may not feel like I can bring my sadness to your house - I truly wouldn't want to take away from the joys of having a new baby in your home. There is something special about holding new babies. I got to hold two last week, my niece and my cousin's baby. And I truly loved both times. But neither time really made my heart hurt any less for my own missing babies. And sometimes, I am totally ok. I was this morning, even. But sometimes it hits hard and suddenly I feel like there's nothing I can do except cry. Grief is a funny thing that way. It's a roller coaster. Sometimes you get lulled into a false sense of security thinking you're doing ok - then suddenly your whole world is upside down and you might not even be sure how you got there. That's what happened this morning. I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable or upset. I truly wasn't angry with you at all. I just got caught a bit off guard. I hope you had a great time getting to see pictures of your baby. Those 4D ultrasounds are so cool, aren't they?

Daughter's Day

My dearest Lillian,

Did you know that the last Sunday in September is Daughter's Day? It's been going around Facebook the past few days. Lots of pictures with "Like and share if you love your daughter" or "Share so the world knows how proud you are of your daughter" or a hundred other ways people use to get people to like and share their pictures. I don't like people trying to make me do things. I just don't. When the blurb starts "You can't watch this without crying" I almost always skip the video. Cause I won't cry - mostly cause they told me to. Also, I am not so often moved to tears over things like cute puppies. Usually if I cry watching videos it involves laughing so hard I cry. Or a very spiritual experience sometimes does it - but not always. I wouldn't really classify myself as a crier. I digress.

I don't like people trying to get me to do what they want. Ask my brothers. They'll tell you the best way to get me to do anything as a kid was to tell me I couldn't do something because I was a girl. I climbed trees and caught snakes with the best of them. :) I still don't really like people trying to make me do things. So I never like or share posts like that. Truthfully, they annoy me. But this time it hit my heart to see all the mothers posting about their daughters.

Last night was the general women's broadcast for the church. Every time I find myself watching mothers and daughters and wishing you were here to go with me. I know, you technically wouldn't even be 8 yet - but in my mind you are a bit older than you would really be if you were here. Mostly, it's just something I wish I could do with you and I never will. I suppose life will be full of those moments. I realized it about prom dress shopping not long ago. And that opened a flood of things I never get to do as your mom. Oh, I'm sure in the eternal scheme of things most of them don't even matter one tiny bit. But on this earth, some of them feel like a big deal. I've noticed a lot of them this past year.

I was already missing you a lot. I'm sure part of the reason I feel emotional is that it's been a rough week around here. I spent a good portion of two days at the hospital. One to get a tonsillectomy consultation for Caleb, and Dad had a hernia repaired on Thursday. I had no idea how exhausting it would be for me for him to have surgery. Half the battle is making sure he doesn't overdo things. He is not a very good patient. It is a good thing he doesn't have to be the patient very often. Gavin's been up at night working on teeth and maybe an ear infection. Dad gets up 1-2 times a night to take medicine and usually that wakes me up too. It's been a long week. And I'm always more emotional when I'm tired. It's just the way I'm built.

Yesterday, knowing that today I would miss you a lot, I drove all over town to find pink lilies. For some reason they're hard to find when I am specifically looking for them, even if they were there just a couple days before. I finally ended up going to a florist and got a gorgeous bunch of lilies. She told me they were Stargazer lilies - which truthfully aren't quite the right pink lilies - but I was really tired of driving all over town so I agreed. I can't express my joy to find they were pink lilies. She said "They're not the official stargazer lilies cause they don't have as much white, but they're still called stargazers." I wanted to tell her that Stargazer is the name of the lily - they all have different names. But I didn't. I said thanks anyway and took my gorgeous pink lilies home. There are 5 of them open today and each one is about as big as my hand fully extended. There are at least two more that will open in the next few days. I love lilies!!! I hope you do to. If you don't, there will be a moment in heaven where we will probably laugh about how much you dislike them and I kept getting more to remind me of you.

I wonder if you think I've forgotten about you the past few weeks. I haven't. I've spent a lot more time thinking of your baby brother. I suppose I can't really help it. You've been gone for nearly 7 years. Most days I don't feel a strong heartache and loss when it comes to you. I was completely blindsided by going through this again. It's different this time. Some things are easier. Some things are harder. I still hate it. I just want my babies to be with me. A mommy isn't supposed to have to say goodbye to her babies. It's just....not fair. I know, I know. Life isn't fair and there's nothing anyone can do. Still - it's about the only thing I can think of to say these days. Still, I haven't forgotten you. I think of you often and you will be forever my sweet daughter.

Sometimes it's really hard to not have you here. This weekend I kept wishing I could turn around and find you'd be there. You're always that close in my mind. Sometimes I wish the world could see you the way I do. Then people might quit asking me "are you going to try again for a girl?" when I venture out with three boys. I know I would ruin everyone else's day by mentioning you. So I don't. I remind myself I have you. I might even think an angry thought or two in my head. But I never say anything. I don't want to ruin anyone's day. And I don't want my boys to think I don't love them even if they're not girls. So I don't say anything. I say "I wouldn't know what to do with a girl" or "we like boys" or something like that. It's true, and maybe sometimes kinda flippant. But I wish people wouldn't comment. Sometimes it hurts like a slap in the face. And going out to do errands with three small children isn't easy. I don't need to feel like I've been slapped too.

Thank you for always being close to me. I hadn't realized how close you really stayed until we did this again. Baby Sam isn't as physically as close to me as you are. More often than not, I believe he's slightly put out that I wish he was closer. He's learning - but it's not just a natural thing for him, I guess. I didn't know how lucky I was to feel you so close almost any time my thoughts turned to you. Thank you. I don't know what things you're missing out on in heaven by staying so close, but it comforts me greatly feeling you are close.

I wish you could be here, my girl. I really do. I know losing you has taught me things I never would have learned otherwise. I know it has shaped my person to be who I am today. I suppose I am grateful, but I still wish you were here. Buying lilies when I'm thinking of you brings me joy, but it's not the same as having you here. I can't bring you here. But I can bring lilies home and it makes me smile and think of you. And so I do it. I think some people think I'm crazy. But it doesn't matter. I do what I do to make ME happy. And thinking of you makes me happy. I am grateful to be your mother. I am sure you are up in heaven doing all kinds of great work. I am certain you are happy. I am glad you can be learning from my grandma. I've been missing her a lot too. I'm glad you two can be together in heaven. I think she would love that your middle name is Jane. Rumor has it she wanted my middle name to be Jane. Either way, we gave you the middle name of Jane because of her always calling me Tasty Jane. I'm glad you guys have each other and baby Sam and Grandpa Fred - and I'm sure a lot of other people too. It would be really hard to feel like you were alone. It is my nature to take care of other people. I can't be there to take care of you so I have to leave it up to others.

I love you, Lillian. Happy Daughter's Day!

December 8, 2014

My dear Lily, every year on December 8th I buy pink lilies for you. And for me, because they are my favorite flowers, after all. And this is the way I remember you. The world doesn't have any way to remember you...no birth certificate, no photos, no headstone....nothing. But I remember!!

The flowers are beautiful. They give me something I like remembering. To tell the truth, I try to forget about that awful night 6 years ago when we had to say goodbye. I try not to remember the trip to the ER, that finals week, or all the things I hated about Christmas that year. There are a lot of things I try to forget. But you, my beautiful girl, I won't forget.

Today is a hard day. I miss you so much. I hope Grandpa Fred shared the hugs we gave him in his last hours on earth last week. I hope you are surrounded by a lot of people who love you today. I know I am cherishing every hug and snuggle I get today. It's not really like being able to hold you, but each one does seem to heal my heart, even if it's just a tiny bit at a time. I love you, Lillian Jane. I hope you have a day filled with love and peace and plenty of hugs from people who love love you.

Rainbows

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. The 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness day. I dread it every year. It hurts.

I find reminders everywhere I turn that I am missing my baby girl. And that others are missing their babies as well. I can't escape it. It hurts to be missing a baby. Somedays my heart is broken. With nearly 6 years behind us, there are way more good days than bad. But there are still hard days.

In the world of pregnancy and infant loss there is a term used for a healthy baby born after a loss; Rainbow Baby. I didn't know about this term when my own Rainbow was born. I was a mess of hurt and confusion then. If I could go back to any point in my life and change the way I lived, the first few months of his life would be what I would change. It was a really hard time for me. Looking back I realize now I should have sought help. I'm certain I had some postpartum depression and being barely a year out from my loss that I felt everyone expected me to just forget didn't help. I wish I had known about Rainbow Babies then. I wish I had been able to feel excitement of a new baby instead of just wishing for my missing baby.

There were days I would sit home with my new baby wondering why it was so quiet. Sometimes I felt like I should be searching for a toddler who was quiet because they were getting into something. It was the strangest feeling to me. And every time I bring a new baby home I have felt that same feeling that someone was missing.

When my next baby was born something changed for me. A lot of the hurting and aching were gone. There were, of course, hard days. But they were fewer and father in between. Shortly after his birth I heard the term Rainbow Baby for the first time. And it felt like he was my Rainbow. I didn't ache so much for my missing baby then. I guess I had come to terms with the fact that now was not my time to have with her.

This summer I got to bring yet another baby boy home. I was worried. I was so sick while I was pregnant I didn't care about much of anything. I felt so disconnected to the baby, my family, and everything else. We didn't find out the gender because I didn't want to hear people say they were sorry if we were having another boy. I was so sick that feeling sorry for myself was already easy. I didn't need more reasons to feel sad. I especially didn't want to hear that we needed to try again for a girl. I can't always explain that we already do have a girl, we just can't see her right now. I already avoid the pink sections of the stores as much as possible. I try not to look at all the little girl things I wish my daughter needed. I didn't even buy anything pink to possibly bring a baby home in.

Once baby was finally here all my worries slipped quickly away. How could I not be in love with this perfect little boy with the most gorgeous hair I had ever seen? He was perfect and wonderful and I was almost immediately done being sick. It was like he was my Rainbow Baby. I've decided that the term shouldn't just apply to the baby born right after a loss. It should really apply to every baby born after a loss. Because each one brings healing and beauty.

It's true, I have felt Lily missing a lot more the first few weeks after my boys have been born. This summer I even had a moment where I counted the kids and wondered who was missing. It only lasted a second or maybe two before I realized who was missing. I like to think she brings her brothers down to our family and stays to make sure they settle in. I like to think she is watching over us. Sometimes I feel her especially close. And I always miss her come October and Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. I miss her on December 8th, the day we lost her. I miss her in early July when the lilies bloom in my yard. She should have been born in early July. If she had been, she would have likely had lilies for her birthday every year.

Tonight there should be a wave of light as candles are lit for angels. At 7pm in each time zone for an hour there will be candles lit for angels all over the world. I've never done the candle lighting before. But I want to this year. I may have to light a few candles. I have met 16 angels since I joined Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep as a photographer in May of 2013. I have met countless people who have an angel of their own. These angels leave a mark on my heart. Sometimes they leave grieving marks and sometimes they leave healing marks. Sometimes they leave both. The little one I photographed last week was one that left both kinds of marks. It was my first session since my last baby was born. The first time I have ever had a little baby to snuggle when I got home. I held him close and stroked his face and thanked God for my new Rainbow Baby. I also cried for a Mommy who just had to say goodbye to her baby. I am really glad to be back with NILMDTS. It truly is a great blessing in my life to be able to serve families in a way few people can serve.

So here it is, October 15th in just a few minutes. I've been thinking about/dreading writing this all up for weeks. But now it is done. My thoughts and feelings in a jumble of words that maybe don't really make sense to anyone who hasn't experienced this. But I feel better. And sometimes, that's all that I really need from blogging.