Some mornings I wake up and I reach for you; even after almost a year without you, even after another life is growing inside my womb, even though your sweet cries never got a chance to wake me from my sleep. My maternal instinct kicks in and reminds me that you are missing from our lives and I wake, reaching for you.
If only my arms could reach far enough, pull you down from the heavens, whole and healthy and bring you back into our lives. We would live our lives here on Earth as we’d dreamed; with three ornery boys and one little princess by our side, whole, happy, no longer reaching for a piece of our family just out of our grasp.
Until our hands meet and you are back in my arms again I will always reach for you baby boy.
I imagined this day a lot differently. With a house filled full of knee high little boys running around chasing each other and a little one crawling behind. With giggles and laughter and yes, a few tears because boys will be boys & your brothers always play too rough. Your first Father’s Day with us would’ve been filled with hand print artwork for Daddy and lots of new foods for you to try.
I imagined taking our yearly Father’s Day pictures with you tucked tight in Daddy’s arms staring at him wide eyed. The tiny little details I would’ve captured and cherished forever of the bond you two had quickly developed; your tiny hand holding his, your sweet smile, and the way your eyes would light up around him. (I like to think my boys are Mama’s boys, but when push comes to shove they choose Daddy everytime!) But instead of these moments with you; we held our Everett Bear in your place and placed angel wings instead of hand prints on Daddy’s yearly Father’s Day art.
More often than not I forget to recognize the pain your Daddy went through when we lost you & the strength and courage it took (and continues to take) to push back his own anguish & carry his family through the storm. Your Daddy’s selflessness is remarkable; the love he has for you and your brothers is never ending. I see the same light in his eyes when he holds our Everett Bear as I do when he holds your brothers, the same unceasing love, but their is indescribable pain there as well, a pain that will follow us through our life here without you until we are reunited again. A pain none of us could bear without your Daddy by our sides, holding us together through it all.
Absentmindedly looking at our calendar this morning I realized what day it was; the 30th. I never thought I could despise a date so much, something as simple as two numbers marked on our calendar can destroy my entire day and send me reeling back in my grieving process. I’ve come to love months without this date in them, months that don’t scream a reminder of what we’ve lost at me every time I see a 3 and a 0 nestle beside each other. I don’t need that added reminder; not a moment goes by where I don’t long to hold you in my arms, your life, your death are unforgettably a part of me.
I know it won’t always be like this, I know one day this date will pass by without a second thought of the pain it once brought and we will celebrate your birthday without searing pain running through our hearts, but for now little one I embrace the pain, the anguish, the sometimes seemingly unending trail of tears that accompany remembering you. I embrace them because they are a part of me, a part of you and with great love comes great pain and Lord only knows how great my love for you is.
Let the 30th no longer be a reminder of your death, but of your life baby boy. And every month lived without you one step closer to holding you in my arms again. (Thank you Bean for that beautiful reminder.)
8 short months ago today we held your precious body and kissed your tiny lips for the first and last time on this Earth. We said goodbye, knowing it wasn’t goodbye forever. We love you Everett Charles and you will always be remembered as our missing piece.
Please join us in sharing your loved ones story and/or supporting those we have on the Forever Beat in Mine Remembrance Wall: https://www.facebook.com/foreverbeatinmineremembrancewall/ in honor of our sweet Angel born sleeping on July 30, 2015.
It was one of those days today where a simple conversation with a stranger at church brought me to tears, but for once, my tears where shed not for my own loss, but for anothers.
It’s the simplest of questions that often comes up in small talk, “how many kids do you have?” This seemingly innocent question often makes you cringe and sends your head reeling with a thousand questions when you’ve experienced the loss of a child. Do I turn this pleasant conversation to an awkward end and tell the truth or do I lie and live with the guilt that accompanies denying my third born son that grew in my womb for 20 short weeks?
With a deep breathe and an aching heart I chose to answer truthfully and use the time I had left in this conversation to honor the life of our sweet Everett. Much to my surprise, the truth which is often met with an awkward apology and a swift goodbye, was greeted with the genuine love and understanding of two hearts that have shared the same pain. Not only did I receive validation for the increasingly aching pain I still feel 9 short months after losing our angel, but I helped to give another grieving Mommy the courage to speak her truth to a complete stranger.
I’ve learned so much from this brief encounter at church today and healed even more from it.
You don’t have to close your heart to the hurt that can come from sharing your child’s life. That pain, that isolation doesn’t have to be yours and yours alone to bear. There are so many other women out there experiencing the same anguish, the same mind numbing heartache just waiting for someone to reach out and help pull them out of the darkness even if just for a moment. So look around you and keep your eyes open for other women like you struggling to live a life without a part of their heart.
To my husband on love after loss on our 1st Valentine’s Day without you,
I love our boys, absolute and whole heartedly, just as you do, but despite the immensity of my motherly love the love I have for you is uncomparable. One look from you lights me on fire and sets my very soul ablaze. You are everything I’ve ever wanted, everything I ever asked for, everything I dreamed of and I’ll never love another with the ferocity in which I love you.
My day is not completely unless I am falling asleep in your arms; our bed feels empty without you by my side and not a day passes that I am not thankful to be spending forever by your side.
The love we share makes me a better version of myself; a better daughter, a better wife, a better mother. You see my flaws and love me more because of them. You always know just the right thing to say, or not say, to make my dark and stormy days full of sunshine and when to let me wallow in the rain.
On the day we got married, almost ten years ago, I thought I would never love you more, but through the years, as our family grows, so does the love I hold for you inside my soul. Watching you become a father has been one of life’s greatest blessings and spending my nights seeing the bond between you and our boys grow is the greatest blessing of them all.
I’ll always wonder what you’d look like. Who you would’ve been. What your life would’ve turned out to be if you were here with us; a rolly polly six month old trying so hard to keep up with your brothers, but I’ve finally accepted that those days will never come. I’ll never see you grow along side your brothers; tagging along in their mischief and keeping Mommy on her toes. I’ve finally realized that’s okay. These are the cards we were dealt and dwelling on the what ifs and the could’ve beens will only hurt us all.
I’ve let go of the pain, the anger, the guilt. I’ve emptied it all into the trash and focused on creating a legacy you’d be proud of; a legacy full of love and light and hope.
I long for the glorious day that I meet you in Heaven and hold you in my arms again. Will you have grown alongside your brothers? Will I miss your baby years or will I hold you in my arms as if you’d never left? Will you have Mommy’s eyes like your brothers? Daddy’s ears? Grandpa’s nose? So many questions I’ll have to wait a lifetime to have answered.
Here’s to hoping a lifetime passes by in a blink of an eye for you and I get to hold my sweet baby in my arms again one glorious day in Heaven.
Until we meet again.
Life gives you two choices when you suffer a tragedy: give up or survive.
I woke up this morning and realized, WE SURVIVED.
By God’s grace.
The Holidays have came to and end, 2016 has begun, 2015 is over and here we are as a family, not completely whole, but not completely broken either. We made it to the other side of our first Holiday season without you. We survived.
Here’s to surviving without you baby boy. God only knows I’d rather have you here by my side, but for now, for the rest of my days in this lifetime, I’ll survive.
We’ve been through it all this year; I mean really been put through the trenches. There aren’t words for the pain and heartache our family has seen in 2015, but we survived & for you, for them, for us, for me I will do so much more than that this year.
Because of you I now live a life defined by love and have a drive and purpose like I’ve never know before. That’s what happens when you lose someone you love with your entire heart, your entire soul, with everything you are and everything you have yet to become. You break. But then, when the time is right, you mend and you arise stronger than you’ve ever been before.
I look forward to another year here on this Earth, even if it means another year without you in my arms.
So bring it on 2016; give me your best shot.
You should’ve been in my arms today baby boy; my arms ache to hold you and our family feels incomplete without the joy awaiting your imminent arrival would’ve brought. I find myself playing this song over and over in my head graciously accepting the tears that follow if only to feel closer to you for another moment.
We played this song at your memorial and it will forever remind me of everything we lost when we lost you. Some days, when my eyes are clouded by tears, it is hard to see the things we’ve gained through this journey, hard to see the beauty of having our Angel watching over us, hard to accept the fact that I will live my life with a piece of my heart missing.
This song speaks to my soul as if it was written just for me. Many people who haven’t experienced child loss don’t see and hopefully will never truly understand (as that understanding comes with only one thing, the loss of a child) that you don’t just lose your child, you lose everything they could have been, every year you could’ve spent with them by your side, and every milestone their life would’ve held. You lose a 1 year old’s first step, a 5 years old’s first day of school, the awkward teenage years, first crushes, first heartaches, first loves, graduations, marriage, grandchildren; you lose it all. It is a devastating loss that changes your world forever. It is not something you “get over” or “move past” and it is most definitely not something you will ever forget. Your life may eventually move on: as everyone’s must, but the pain and the anguish will forever be a part of who you are, peaking it’s way in at the most inopportune moments and leaving behind a wound on your heart that will never fade away.
Your life, your death has left a wound on my heart. A wound that cuts so deep it touches my soul. A wound that will never completely heal, but that I proudly wear as it is the only thing I have left of you. A wound that will bleed until the day I die and meet you again. My arms ache with the need to hold you and for now, I fill them full of love for your brothers and the time I get with them here on this Earth. I anxiously await the day I get to hold you again baby boy and I hope beyond measure that until then, I can live a life that will make you proud to call me Mommy.