5 years down; a lifetime to go. Some reflections.

First and foremost I have survived the last 5 years.  That in and of itself is amazing.  There were times I didn't know if I would.  There were times I thought the pain would swallow me whole and I'd never crawl out.  There are times the darkness still creeps in, days like today quite frankly suck.  When I think back to then it is so hard for me to reconcile how I got here.  It saddens me greatly.  The wounds on my heart are permanent, I wish I could have them removed but they are there.  Forever.  There has been so much discord, pain, sorrow, joy turned to disappointment.  There is not a day I don't think about Reese.  She is in every single white butterfly, a few songs, and my soul.  The grief spills over every now and then, like a wave.  It used to be a gavel that would slam me from behind and take me to my knees, I am grateful that is no longer the case.  My life is so much different now.  Back then I still wanted more children.  Back then I was still in denial about the depth of Levi's illness.  Back then I never ever thought my marriage would fail.  Back then...even though I was in constant pain...I still had hope.  That hope is replaced with a few cups of anger, a whole lot of determination, and love beyond measure for my kids.  Acceptance.  I am okay with being alone.  I am okay with being a single mom.  Walking down the street with my kids and seeing a happy family doesn't break me anymore than I am already broken.  It is what it is.  Life has moved in its own direction and I have willed it onto a path that I am okay with.  Surviving.  In some cases thriving.  I got 103% on my psych. essay test I took the day we left for NJH.  The highest grade in the class (pre-curve it was 97%).  I just got my first English paper back, that I wrote on Andrea Yates, and I got an A-.  I had to drop biomedical ethics, which I am okay with.  I am excited for that class and missing so much of it cheated me out of a lot of good discussion and debate, I will take it in the fall.  I dropped it before it affected financial aid or my transcripts.  I have to sign up for fall classes on the 16th, it will be a full load.  The kids will go to daycare.  Having done well thus far is incredibly empowering.  I was a C-F student in High School (except in English and humanities).  I didn't care.  I'd get an F in English, apply myself and get an A, end up with a C for my final grade.  Self-sabotage.  Being an adult student is a huge difference.  I actually care.  I have to do well!  I am replacing F's from 2000 with A's!!  My GPA is steadily creeping up which I have to hope will help me bode well for when I petition the nursing program.  I also plan to do volunteer work and build references.  Reese made me a survivor.  She taught me how to put myself back together.  I am still, at my core, broken. I am working on it in therapy.  I am working steadily toward my goals.  Today sucks.  I HATE today.  I hate that my daughter is not here.  I am not okay with never having my "rainbow" baby, but I have forged a path and a life for the kids and I that is healthy.  I will never stop missing her.  My heart will never be complete.  I will go to my grave aching for her. 5 years down.  5 years.....

Sigh

Last night Alorah and I were cuddled up on the couch watching The Wonder Years.  She was hopped up on nebs (from the smoke engulfing our city every night) and in need of some Mommy time, which I am almost always up for.  She looked at me during a commercial and said "Mom, we should have a 4 year old running around.  I wonder what she would be like."

Almost 5 years later and Alorah is the one that remembers.  She knows the importance of a white butterfly.  She knows I am still sad.  She talks about her sister more than anyone.  She was 4 1/2 when I lost Reese and I don't know how she grasps so much.

I didn't cry, the grief hits me much differently these days.  Still unpredictable.  Still just as painful.  Sharp as a knife, deeper than I can express.  There is solace and peace and grief, somehow they have all molded into one.

Some Mother's Day thoughts...........

Single Motherhood.
Mother of an angel.

Things that "change" Mother's Day.

Tomorrow there will be no break from dishes or laundry or bathing or breaking up sibling squabbles.
There will be no breakfast in bed.
No gifts w/ help from Dad.
No sleeping in or fresh hot coffee waiting for me.

There will be 3 very happy children who love me with all of their hearts beaming with pride because they made their gifts for me at school (thank-you to their teachers, thank-you).  There will be 3 kids who will try their best to be as good as possible, for me.  There will be kisses and hugs and even a song, I'm told, written and sung by my girls.  There will be smiles of joy.  They grasp Mother's Day now, all on their own.

We will drive to my Dad's, he is making  breakfast (which means there will be one meal tomorrow that I neither have to cook nor clean up).  We will hang out and hope Alorah's asthma attack does not get any worse (fingers crossed aggressive meds got it under control).  We will enjoy our time together and I may even get to watch a Lifetime movie...or something.

Most of all I will appreciate these 3 miracles that I get to raise.  I will miss Reese, and I will think of her and as always wish that she was here to jump in my bed and give me kisses and wish me a Happy Mother's Day. I will be thankful that for one Mother's Day Reese was snuggled up and thriving under my heart.  Alive.  Like she should be.

We will stop by my Mother-in-law's and Mom's and drop off their cards.  I will be thankful that all 3 of my Mom's are here to celebrate and love.  Being a single mom, and the mom of an angel, make Mother's Day a little less sweet but I will find the joy, my heart will be thankful for what I do have and I will love my kiddos like crazy...just like every day.  At the end of the day I will thank my lucky stars that I get to be a Mom.  The best gift-and I wouldn't trade them for anything in the whole, entire world.

No more tears in heaven.....

The nurses worked so hard to get these footprints.  If you have seen an almost 17 week baby you know why.  Her feet were so tiny but so perfect.  The only regret I have is not having pictures of her feet. Her ten incredibly tiny toes.  Her hands, her long fingers.  I do have pictures of them but I can't show them without showing the rest of her and that isn't something I feel comfortable doing.  Unfortunately she passed way on June 28th.  My journal entry from the 29th still haunts me.

"Levi felt the baby kick last night. Jingle was really active and I was feeling a lot of movement so I told Levi to give me his hand, as soon as he put it on my belly the baby kicked really hard once...and then stopped lol. He was really excited to feel that kick. Grow baby Grow!"

I had no idea that big kick was her last.  I begged her several times over 4th of July weekend to kick. To tell me she was okay.  I chalked it up to being so busy, by the time evening hit I was exhausted, and by the 3rd of July I felt sick in a way that I cannot explain.  I went in for a routine appointment on July 5th, 2006.  It was anything but.  She was born still at 11:23pm on July 7th.  6 1/2" long and 3.2oz small.
When I think of where I am now....it all goes back to her.  Everything that has happened.  Every choice.  Every event.  I can connect it to her.  Grief never goes away.  I think eventually you just learn to live with the hole.  I handle it better now...though days like today hit me out of nowhere every so often.  I have no idea why.  There is no rhyme nor reason.  Alorah talks about Reese more than anyone.  She was insistent, at 2 1/2, that she was having a baby sister.  My dreams...  I had one days before I found out I was pregnant about a positive pregnancy test.  I had dreams that she was a girl.  I had a dream over that weekend that I was bleeding. Thank-you to the nurses for working so hard to get those prints.  They mean the world to me.  I have a box from the hospital and every so often I feel the pull to look inside and allow myself to feel.  It's amazing how fast I can go right back and remember every detail.  Maybe...some day...I will share the box with you all.  Only a few people have seen its contents.  This time of year always chokes me up.  White wispy butterflies, the same ones that would appear everywhere I went for weeks after Reese died.  Parking lots, pumping gas, parks, in the yard.  Sweet sweet butterflies....

Behind you...always

"They say that time in heaven is compared to 'the blink of an eye' for us on this earth. Sometimes it helps me to think of my child running ahead of me through a beautiful field of wildflowers and butterflies; so happy and completely caught up in what she is doing that when she looks behind her, i'll already

be there."

~Author Unknown

I would much, much, much rather be there now. I want her here, looking back and always having me there with her. I hate when people say "time heals all wounds". NO, it sure doesn't. Don't EVER tell that to someone who has lost a child. It's a stupid assumption. It gets better...but it never heals. That wound will never not be there. I've heard it described as a jagged hole and slowly over time the jaggedness gets smoother but the hole never...ever...goes away and those of us who have been here wouldn't want it to. Alorah has been talking about Reese quite a bit lately. She wants to see pictures, I told her she isn't old enough. I told her about Reese's hands and feet, how small they were and perfect. Her long fingers and perfect feet. I haven't unpacked her box, it is so unfair when all you have of your child can fit into a small box. It is so emotionally exhausting every time I have to make "her place" and I'm not ready.

Some day when I die I will be with her and finally get to know her, hopefully decades before her siblings join us and that...that makes death okay for me....some day.

Reese

I can't believe it has been four years. So much has happened and there are days it feels like it was so much longer ago and days that feel like it was yesterday. If I let myself think about her too long I can still, very easily, go right back to that day. Vividly. The grief and tears wash over and the sting in my heart that makes it feel like it will surely stop takes my breath away. Yes, still. I still wish I had a picture of her feet. They were so tiny but so perfect. 10 little toes. The nurses worked so hard to get me her foot prints and at least I have those. When I see little girls her age running around, soaking in life, reminding me of what we lost I still have to look away. Babies and pregnant friends no longer hurt, thankfully. I have always always had a deep love on infants and I am relieved that I can still enjoy them. There was a time when I couldn't even look at a baby without wanting to scream, throw-up, and run away. There are so many things about loosing her that haunt me. She haunts me. Not in a scary way. I don't know how to explain it. When I am out with the kids and keeping track of them I still look for #4. I have to stop myself from panicking when I only count 3. That has to sound really odd... I feel her sometimes, in the sunshine, in a butterfly's dance, in simple every day things. She is still very much part of me and I've come to accept it and find peace but I am still (if I'm honest) angry that she isn't here. It's still hard for me to swallow and when I hear of others that have suffered this loss it makes me so mad. Babies shouldn't die. Period. They should have immunity from suffering and so should the parents that plan their lives and make them with so much love and hope. My whole world fell apart that day, I am still trying to put it all back together. I am still sad that we will never have another baby, I will never hold another breathing, screaming, beautiful baby fresh from my womb. I would have another baby in a second if my health was better and if Levi wanted another child. My health may improve but Levi has dug his heels in and that is something I have to accept. He promised me that day that we would have another baby...I didn't even have to ask it was the first thing he said to me. Things change. People change. Situations change. Doesn't make it easier. I never wanted a baby to replace Reese. That's not it at all. My hearts longing is not something I can change. I wish I could. I wish I could be okay with never completing our family. Most of all I wish she hadn't died. Levi was so excited about her. He knew before I did that I was pregnant. He was so in love with that baby and pregnancy. Hopefully one day I will find peace and acceptance with all of it.

I love you Reese Noel.

4 years down, a lifetime to go.

3 years down...

a lifetime to go.

I can't believe it has been 3 years since we said goodbye to Reese. Words will never do justice to the pain I still feel. I don't know how in the world I would juggle my life with a 2 1/2 yr old, but I would love to have her here.

I miss her.

I miss the person I used to be. Before her.

My life before her.

Loosing her was the catalyst to where I am now and I feel so conflicted and sad tonight. It hurts so much. I lost her and my family and it makes me hurt down to the depth of my soul.

I miss you Jingle Baby. More then anyone knows.

Reese Noel, born 7/7/06, she was due 12/19/06.

I don't talk about Reese very much here. It has been 2 1/2 years since she passed away. In that time I've watched my marriage crumble, fought against someone's mental illness and lost (pretty much the entire reason my marriage is ending), lost a father-in-law to diabetes, a nephew to suicide, fallen unexpected pregnant again only to miscarry, endured people making decisions that have forever wounded part of my soul, and rebuilt myself time and again. Life is pretty much Before Reese (happy) and After Reese (one blow after another). It seems that the moment I lost her things just snowballed. I wrote about my pregnancy with her until a year after, it helped. I haven't shared this publicly in quite some time but I came across a blog today that reminded me SO much of myself, and how raw it was after she died. Even after everything I've gone through and those around me have gone through loosing my marriage and Reese are tied for worst grief ever in my heart.

I just pray I never have to go through anything worse...

So, if you want to know Reese, I'll let you read about her. Please keep in mind that I was DEEP in grief. I was swallowed whole within it. She had purpose though-she taught me how to grieve, and how to be truly grateful too. You can read it in order by clicking "next day", it will jump to the next entry. I went ahead and linked you to when I found out I was pregnant with her instead of you reading it backward.

Meet Reese Noel P***.

2 years down; a lifetime to go

Sometimes it seems like it was 20 years ago, more often it seems like 20 months, and days like today it feels like it was 20 minutes. As Levi put it, it's been a long and trying 2 years. It has been. I don't know how I feel. My hormones are still all over the place from this last miscarriage. I do know that I've found acceptance. I do know that I'm less angry. It still sucks, I'll never ever forget or get over it but healing is as complex as grief. I can't really explain it. It still hurts but it's a different kind of hurt. We'll never forget you Reese. I hope you and your little brother or sister are up there playing with all the other angel babies lost way too soon...