This won't be a very uplifting post, I've been kind of in a slump lately (you may have noticed by my last post)...
I went to a funeral the other day and it wasn't for another baby. And it wasn't my first funeral to attend since Jenna died. But it was the hardest one yet. And I wonder why...
There wasn't anything in particular that reminded me of her funeral (other than the same church). It was just HARD. It brought it all back. The tiniest casket I ever laid eyes on. The color of the casket... the generosity of so many people, including strangers, that sent tons of flower arrangements. All the gerbers... {should be happy flowers}... the music, the doves, sitting a few feet away from my dead daughter's casket during the service-
I remember standing there, feeling like I was being held by Someone because my knees were too weak to stand. People made their way before the service started to give their condolences and I don't remember a word anybody said to me. I don't know if it was shock, or the perfect peace of God that was holding me together, maybe a combination of both. I told the person standing next to me who'd also lost a baby that it didn't feel real. That is the only conversation I remember from the funeral.
I honestly don't know if I can survive another funeral. Maybe it's because now the fog has lifted, the air is clear and reality has slapped me in the face. I get it, she's not coming back, there is no Jenna Belle Cox at Texas Children's Hospital anymore. Bed 25 is occupied by some other preemie infant, hopefully much better off than my Jenna was. Death is real. At least in my world it is.
I am literally throwing myself into my studio these days... it's been a really nice distraction. It allows me to at least for a while numb the pain and refocus my energy...
-and try to remember my Jenna without the painful memories.
3.31.2010
3.28.2010
Tired
Sometimes I am tired...
of being the mother to a dead child
of not knowing who she was
of knowing I did not get to blissfully enjoy my pregnancy with her
of the memories being painful
of her memory fading
of the sunshine being bittersweet
of hurting when I daily realize the things I'll never get to experience with her
of being uncomfortable around infant baby girls
of feeling like I have moved on too quickly
of replaying the day she died as if it will change anything
of searching for answers when there are none
of having a dead child instead of a happy, healthy baby girl
of trying to remember her with temporal things that will never replace her
of crying
of feeling like my efforts to remember her short life will never do her justice
of realizing the increasing permanence of this loss
of being sad when I am alone and left to my thoughts
of not being a normal mother
of feeling like God could have saved her
of being a mother with no baby to carry
of feeling guilt over her death
of baby things not being happy things
of this reality that has been handed to me
sometimes I am just tired.
of being the mother to a dead child
of not knowing who she was
of knowing I did not get to blissfully enjoy my pregnancy with her
of the memories being painful
of her memory fading
of the sunshine being bittersweet
of hurting when I daily realize the things I'll never get to experience with her
of being uncomfortable around infant baby girls
of feeling like I have moved on too quickly
of replaying the day she died as if it will change anything
of searching for answers when there are none
of having a dead child instead of a happy, healthy baby girl
of trying to remember her with temporal things that will never replace her
of crying
of feeling like my efforts to remember her short life will never do her justice
of realizing the increasing permanence of this loss
of being sad when I am alone and left to my thoughts
of not being a normal mother
of feeling like God could have saved her
of being a mother with no baby to carry
of feeling guilt over her death
of baby things not being happy things
of this reality that has been handed to me
of holding on to Heaven's hope, but then I realize that's all I have left
sometimes I am just tired.
Progress on the Layla Boxes
As promised, I wanted to update on the progress I made on the Layla memory boxes. The boxes are very near completion, and within the next few days I expect to finish the letters as well.
More pictures coming later this week... I promise :)
3.25.2010
Jenna's Blooms
Look at these lovelies! It rained really really hard last night and the fuchsias must have loved it!
More to come soon ;)
Update on the *LAYLA* Boxes
{She has such a pretty name!}
Today I hope to cover a lot of ground for Layla's boxes.
You can stay updated on the progress by following me on twitter. I will be posting pictures later this weekend on the blog, but it's just easier to update through tweets for now.
Last Thursday night I actually applied the second layer, which is the texture on the boxes. It was super late and I was also baking a cake for my husband's birthday party, so I do apologize... but they are still plain white.
Not much to see... yet! ;)
Hope to see you on twitter!
Today I hope to cover a lot of ground for Layla's boxes.
You can stay updated on the progress by following me on twitter. I will be posting pictures later this weekend on the blog, but it's just easier to update through tweets for now.
Last Thursday night I actually applied the second layer, which is the texture on the boxes. It was super late and I was also baking a cake for my husband's birthday party, so I do apologize... but they are still plain white.
Not much to see... yet! ;)
Hope to see you on twitter!
3.24.2010
Beyond Words Designs
I wanted to thank Stephanie from Carried Through Grief for the gorgeous painting of my Jenna's name. She did a beautiful job and *very skillfully* painted these words with my Jenna's name! Both my husband and I love the job she did for us. She customized it with fuchsia {of course} :) :) :)
If you have a chance, please visit her site at Beyond Words Designs. It is refreshing to see something so beautiful come from something so devastating.
If you have a chance, please visit her site at Beyond Words Designs. It is refreshing to see something so beautiful come from something so devastating.
3.23.2010
I wonder
Dear baby Jenna,
Some days like today I realize I really didn't get to know you. Would you have been strong-willed and spirited? Shy? Playful? Serious? Clumsy? Would you have had a bubbly personality? Would you have been a girlie-girl or a tomboy? Mommy would have tried to dress you up like a doll... and wear all those pretty dresses and shiny shoes...
but somedays I just wonder who you were...
who you would have been like...
and what it would be like to be a mother to a ten-month old princess.
I don't know. I may never know.
I can honestly say I am tired of crying. I am just plain tired. But the tears come if I dwell here too long. Jenna, you are dearly loved and desperately missed.
Somedays I wonder.
Almost everyday, I look outside at your garden and tell my lovelies to "grow for Jenna". Some are having a harder time than others, but overall your angel garden is so refreshing to behold.
These are for you, my precious baby Jenna.
Some days like today I realize I really didn't get to know you. Would you have been strong-willed and spirited? Shy? Playful? Serious? Clumsy? Would you have had a bubbly personality? Would you have been a girlie-girl or a tomboy? Mommy would have tried to dress you up like a doll... and wear all those pretty dresses and shiny shoes...
but somedays I just wonder who you were...
who you would have been like...
and what it would be like to be a mother to a ten-month old princess.
I don't know. I may never know.
I can honestly say I am tired of crying. I am just plain tired. But the tears come if I dwell here too long. Jenna, you are dearly loved and desperately missed.
Somedays I wonder.
Almost everyday, I look outside at your garden and tell my lovelies to "grow for Jenna". Some are having a harder time than others, but overall your angel garden is so refreshing to behold.
These are for you, my precious baby Jenna.
3.19.2010
what's wrong?
So I was in the progress of getting blood drawn and making a million stops yesterday, ones that I could not make any other day. It was the 18th and I already knew I wouldn't be able to go see her. It was the first time on the 18th that I didn't make it to her gravesite. I felt awful and still do. Her dad went to go see her on his lunch break, which was so incredibly sweet.
I walked into the lab clinic and was waiting to sign in behind a young woman and her new baby girl (carrier had a pink blanket covered over the top so I couldn't see how old she was). It tore my heart open. Lately sightings of any girls just hurt a little more than they used to. I'll never get those moments with Jenna. Ever. The technician swung the door open to call her in, as the woman was walking to sit down. The tech had one of those personalities that could light up a room and start a conversation with the wall.
She didn't know.
She called the woman's name and then glanced at me and asked "What's wrong???"
I thought she was talking about my allergic reaction all over my skin. I must have given her a puzzled look because she went on, "What's wrong? You should be happy..."
She didn't know.
"My baby girl died 10 months ago today and I am not able to go see her today." I WANTED to say. But I didn't. I half-smiled and let the woman with the baby girl answer for me.
"She's tired." No, not really, but thanks for stepping in.
It's times like that that I wish I either wore a shirt that said "My baby died so excuse my ridiculous behavior" OR that I could hide my emotions much better than I tell myself I do. I had no idea that my ripped out heart was telling on me again.
I walked into the lab clinic and was waiting to sign in behind a young woman and her new baby girl (carrier had a pink blanket covered over the top so I couldn't see how old she was). It tore my heart open. Lately sightings of any girls just hurt a little more than they used to. I'll never get those moments with Jenna. Ever. The technician swung the door open to call her in, as the woman was walking to sit down. The tech had one of those personalities that could light up a room and start a conversation with the wall.
She didn't know.
She called the woman's name and then glanced at me and asked "What's wrong???"
I thought she was talking about my allergic reaction all over my skin. I must have given her a puzzled look because she went on, "What's wrong? You should be happy..."
She didn't know.
"My baby girl died 10 months ago today and I am not able to go see her today." I WANTED to say. But I didn't. I half-smiled and let the woman with the baby girl answer for me.
"She's tired." No, not really, but thanks for stepping in.
It's times like that that I wish I either wore a shirt that said "My baby died so excuse my ridiculous behavior" OR that I could hide my emotions much better than I tell myself I do. I had no idea that my ripped out heart was telling on me again.
3.15.2010
Layla Boxes and Balloon Release
This past Saturday I went to Layla Grace's Celebration of Life Memorial Service. It was beautiful but harder than I expected... way WAY harder. Her slideshow of pictures and the songs sung... just wow. And then someone read a poem I'd read before about God lending your child to you and not getting bitter when He calls them home. It was beautiful. I wish I knew the name of it. The words are heart-wrenching.
Anyway... here are some pictures of the balloon release held after outside. It was a perfect, yet sad sad day...
Right after the service, I headed for Hobby Lobby to get some supplies for the Layla boxes. Here are some of the things I bought to decorate the boxes. I also bought letters of the girls names... I thought it would be fun to decorate these and put them inside the boxes.
Anyway... here are some pictures of the balloon release held after outside. It was a perfect, yet sad sad day...
And here are the boxes so far... day one... not much to look at... yet! :)
3.14.2010
Baby Things
Baby things still make me sad. Really really sad. A *car seat* made me cry today. Will there ever be a time that they won't?
3.12.2010
Reminiscing
I was driving today and like usual that's when I do most of my thinking... you know the thinking that winds up in a teary mess. I have dreaded this month altogether and just have not put it into words yet, until now. I wish I could remember the exact date, but I am almost positive it was early March that we went in for a 20 week u/s. You may have already read all the details that ensued on Jenna's Story page, so I don't mean to repeat myself. But it's been a YEAR. A WHOLE YEAR.
I remember we had normal married life going on. School for me, tons of work for my husband. We were still figuring out marriage. We had no idea what awaited us the next morning. I thought just another doctor's appointment. We were hoping for a girl, but would soon find out much much more than the gender.
A YEAR.
I remember it like yesterday. We got to my regular OB's office. Within minutes, I had my u/s. The u/s (second one in my whole life) took long... 20 minutes or so. I thought it was no big deal. I remember the tech measuring and measuring and measuring some more. I sensed something was wrong but I would not realize it until much later. I tried to lighten the mood I thought I was imagining by commenting on the baby's silhouette and the baby's head which seemed to be larger than the rest of her body. I just thought it was normal baby development...
The tech didn't respond.
She asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby and asked us what we thought the baby was. I told her my husband had dreamed of a little girl the night before, and added that we both thought the baby was a girl. With both grandmothers in the room, the news was confirmed.
There is a blur here...
I remember having a checkup and the grandmothers left at that point. I remember us somehow ending up in the doctor's study. I remember thinking to myself, this can't be good. I remember crying because she was telling us that our baby's measurements were not what they should be. I also remember thinking I am overreacting, of course my baby will be okay.
I remember the doc being extremely cold as she broke the devastating news. I don't think she was used to dealing with high-risk patients, she sure didn't act like it. Her staff squeezed us into a high-risk clinic where I would end up transferring my care.
I was the last patient seen that day by a very overworked and caring perinatologist. She whisked us into that u/s room after hours of waiting. After what seemed like a lifetime of measuring our baby girl, she told us bluntly that we had a sick baby. Sick baby? Me? Why? How did this happen? This has never happened in either of our families! All I remember is a million thoughts rushing through my head, but none of them being a funeral. I never thought I would lose my baby girl. I just didn't think it was possible. Even after two confirmations of what seemed like a serious diagnosis.
After the u/s she gave us the option of an amnio. I didn't know what to do. I called my pastor's wife, panicked. Convinced that an amnio would not help the baby's condition, even though it was fatal, we declined; a decision I do not regret. After declining the amnio we were seen by a genetic counselor. My eyes were blotchy and red with mascara running down my face. They led us down what seemed like a secret hallway where I didn't have to pass by other preggo women. I haven't forgotten that gesture. I am still grateful for that hallway. Before Jenna would be born, we would see another genetic counselor. Official waste of time.
A year ago we climbed wearily back into our vehicle. Neither of us could quite wrap our minds around the devastating news. One by one, family members and friends were called. The family members and friends, who hours prior, had just been texting us "Boy or girl?"
Within 11 weeks I would have a dead baby and a gravesite to visit. Life can change that quickly.
I wonder sometimes why I didn't fantasize about bringing a baby girl home. I don't remember talking about how much life will change, because I guess at that point we just didn't know anything. It makes me sad that I didn't anticipate more. I did plan for her, I did talk about her, I did hope for her. I DID until the end, and never entertained her dying, even when my doctor bluntly told me I could lose this baby, but I just don't remember anticipating being her mother more...
Maybe I knew in my heart of hearts. She was something extraordinary and special. Not of this world.
I remember we had normal married life going on. School for me, tons of work for my husband. We were still figuring out marriage. We had no idea what awaited us the next morning. I thought just another doctor's appointment. We were hoping for a girl, but would soon find out much much more than the gender.
A YEAR.
I remember it like yesterday. We got to my regular OB's office. Within minutes, I had my u/s. The u/s (second one in my whole life) took long... 20 minutes or so. I thought it was no big deal. I remember the tech measuring and measuring and measuring some more. I sensed something was wrong but I would not realize it until much later. I tried to lighten the mood I thought I was imagining by commenting on the baby's silhouette and the baby's head which seemed to be larger than the rest of her body. I just thought it was normal baby development...
The tech didn't respond.
She asked if we wanted to know the sex of the baby and asked us what we thought the baby was. I told her my husband had dreamed of a little girl the night before, and added that we both thought the baby was a girl. With both grandmothers in the room, the news was confirmed.
There is a blur here...
I remember having a checkup and the grandmothers left at that point. I remember us somehow ending up in the doctor's study. I remember thinking to myself, this can't be good. I remember crying because she was telling us that our baby's measurements were not what they should be. I also remember thinking I am overreacting, of course my baby will be okay.
I remember the doc being extremely cold as she broke the devastating news. I don't think she was used to dealing with high-risk patients, she sure didn't act like it. Her staff squeezed us into a high-risk clinic where I would end up transferring my care.
I was the last patient seen that day by a very overworked and caring perinatologist. She whisked us into that u/s room after hours of waiting. After what seemed like a lifetime of measuring our baby girl, she told us bluntly that we had a sick baby. Sick baby? Me? Why? How did this happen? This has never happened in either of our families! All I remember is a million thoughts rushing through my head, but none of them being a funeral. I never thought I would lose my baby girl. I just didn't think it was possible. Even after two confirmations of what seemed like a serious diagnosis.
After the u/s she gave us the option of an amnio. I didn't know what to do. I called my pastor's wife, panicked. Convinced that an amnio would not help the baby's condition, even though it was fatal, we declined; a decision I do not regret. After declining the amnio we were seen by a genetic counselor. My eyes were blotchy and red with mascara running down my face. They led us down what seemed like a secret hallway where I didn't have to pass by other preggo women. I haven't forgotten that gesture. I am still grateful for that hallway. Before Jenna would be born, we would see another genetic counselor. Official waste of time.
A year ago we climbed wearily back into our vehicle. Neither of us could quite wrap our minds around the devastating news. One by one, family members and friends were called. The family members and friends, who hours prior, had just been texting us "Boy or girl?"
Within 11 weeks I would have a dead baby and a gravesite to visit. Life can change that quickly.
I wonder sometimes why I didn't fantasize about bringing a baby girl home. I don't remember talking about how much life will change, because I guess at that point we just didn't know anything. It makes me sad that I didn't anticipate more. I did plan for her, I did talk about her, I did hope for her. I DID until the end, and never entertained her dying, even when my doctor bluntly told me I could lose this baby, but I just don't remember anticipating being her mother more...
Maybe I knew in my heart of hearts. She was something extraordinary and special. Not of this world.
WOW!
WOW! I am blown away at everyone's generosity!!! Almost $100 has been donated with everyone's contributions for Layla Grace's and her sisters' memory boxes! I am so excited to start this project and just wanted to update everyone that more than enough has been given. I will keep you updated on the progress of their gifts. I have some ideas for things to put inside the boxes with the extra money, or I can donate the remainder of it to the family... What do you think?
Now for the words... if you have a suggestion for words I'd love your input! About 10-13 words fit nicely around the boxes. If you have any ideas, let me know! Her sisters are Claire who is 3 and Jenna who is 9 years old.
Some words that were suggested to me so far for Layla's box are:
blue eyes
flowers
little sister
tutus and hats
Again thank you SO much everyone! I got an email today from a correspondent for the family for their address, so all I need are the words and to go get those boxes!
Now for the words... if you have a suggestion for words I'd love your input! About 10-13 words fit nicely around the boxes. If you have any ideas, let me know! Her sisters are Claire who is 3 and Jenna who is 9 years old.
Some words that were suggested to me so far for Layla's box are:
blue eyes
flowers
little sister
tutus and hats
Again thank you SO much everyone! I got an email today from a correspondent for the family for their address, so all I need are the words and to go get those boxes!
For Layla
Many have probably heard the devastating news of the passing of Layla Grace. One of my dear friends, who I met through this community, Beth, suggested sending a hope collage box for each of the girls. A memory box for Layla, and something a little more fun and frilly for her sisters, who may feel a little behind the scenes.
I make these memory boxes for bereaved parents on the memorial site and was wondering if anyone would like to donate a small amount towards these three boxes for this family? The boxes are collaged with words usually chosen by the parents, but in this case, I'd love for anyone who'd like to donate any amount to suggest a few words for the memory boxes.
The memory boxes are $23 each (includes shipping), and they come in four different shapes. They are also lined with a decorative interior, each one unique and custom made.
If I ask too much, I do apologize, but I will be donating part of the cost as well. I actually live in the same area as this family and am going to try to attend her funeral service tomorrow morning. Her story hit really close to home, as she was also cared for at Texas Children's Hospital like my Jenna.
Here are some pictures of the memory boxes, for more information on these you can visit the memorial site.
If you know you would like to donate, please use the button below and specify the donation is for Layla Grace. You can leave the words that you would like to suggest for the boxes in the comments. Please also specify which words are for Layla and which ones are for her sisters.
Name
3.10.2010
Prayers and Support Needed
As many of you probably know, Stephanie from Carried Through Grief is carrying a baby girl that will not make it. She is quickly reaching the point for her daughter to be delivered. Please head over to her blog to lend her your support if you have a chance.
Thank you
xx
Thank you
xx
3.09.2010
Jenna's Name
I have been meaning to thank these beautiful hearts for thinking of my Jenna is such creative ways.
Thank you Monica for writing my Jenna's name at Lake Sacajawea, WA
Thank you Heather for the beautiful pendant. If you haven't visited Heather's new blog called In Our Hearts Pendants, please do. She is doing a beautiful thing in her Madelyn's name for other babyloss mamas.
And thank you Sandie for this beautiful photo of Jenna Belle's name in the snow :) It was so thoughtful!
Thank you Monica for writing my Jenna's name at Lake Sacajawea, WA
Thank you Heather for the beautiful pendant. If you haven't visited Heather's new blog called In Our Hearts Pendants, please do. She is doing a beautiful thing in her Madelyn's name for other babyloss mamas.
And thank you Sandie for this beautiful photo of Jenna Belle's name in the snow :) It was so thoughtful!
3.05.2010
Remembering Calvin
Please visit Crystal's remembrance site called Kisses for Calvin for her precious son on his first birthday in Heaven and send him a letter or anything on your heart.
3.04.2010
Giveaway Time Again!!!
It's that time again... the fifth is almost upon us.
If you'd like to enter for a blog makeover, please hop over to Small Bird Studio by clicking on the button!
You can enter for yourself or a friend, if you're totally happy with your blog look :)
3.02.2010
In a Weird Place
It's been a while since I have spent a good amount of time pouring over this blog and reading others. I have to admit, I am falling behind. I have found myself in a weird place but ever thankful for this community.
I have tried to figure out what about this grief has changed and for the most part, I am convinced it's on hold. I am anticipating a crash back into reality this summer. That's what I've read about this pattern of grief of losing a baby and rainbows, anyway. But for now on some level a peaceful acceptance has risen. It seems silly to say "I accept that my baby died, God" but really, in my heart it was pure denial. And I think there are still times I deny that death is final. Part of my brain still thinks one day I will get to drive down to Texas Children's Hospital and see her, bring her home... ??????? I think I'm crazy too, so it's okay if you think so!
But while acceptance has made a home in my heart for now, little has changed in the way I look at things. One of the biggest differences is not that I don't think malicious thoughts about other newborn babies and happy-go-lucky preggo women, it's just now I feel bad about it.
I ran into someone whose daughter was named Jenna the other day and it >>>STUNG<<<
Instantly reaction - WHY DIDN'T I GET TO KEEP MY JENNA?! She's got like a MILLION kids anyway...
But then I felt bad. Really bad. Why doesn't she deserve to keep her Jenna? She worked just as hard as I did to bring her baby into this world. I can rationalize away my anger on some level, which is definitely progress. Before I was just so angry and there was no rationalizing within a million miles. I felt justified in my anger.
It's a weird place, but peaceful nonetheless. Her pictures are still hard to look at. The songs we played for her in her incubator on her little MP3 player are still hard to listen to without crying my eyeballs out. Visiting her is still hard...
Her things, her memories, her face... all still hard... hard... hard...
And I don't look for signs anymore. I think that's sad. I didn't even realize it right away, but I don't search the clouds anymore hoping I'll get a glimpse of her riding on the back of her pony, or a heart drawn in the sky, or an angel carrying her. I really used to look for her in the clouds. Maybe because clouds are the closest thing to my idea of heaven??? I don't know, but I did. I sort of miss that very raw pain that drew me to a child's faith. It was no place I could dwell for long, as I have realized. The rawness is gone. And it's sad that the search for signs are too.
It's almost 10 months later I can honestly say grief does NOT define who I am; my daughter's life, her existence has redefined me. There was a day that I believed grief - my sadness would define who I was for the rest of my life. It's strange to be able to "look back" on where I have been in this grief, because more often than not, I felt at a standstill and I did not feel like I was moving in any direction except backwards. For the most part, I am still on a roller coaster with very high ups and very low downs. But the rawness is behind me. And when I am in the pit of grief, or on a mountain top, I can at least recognize that this is just the way grief is going to be. Unpredictable.
I have tried to figure out what about this grief has changed and for the most part, I am convinced it's on hold. I am anticipating a crash back into reality this summer. That's what I've read about this pattern of grief of losing a baby and rainbows, anyway. But for now on some level a peaceful acceptance has risen. It seems silly to say "I accept that my baby died, God" but really, in my heart it was pure denial. And I think there are still times I deny that death is final. Part of my brain still thinks one day I will get to drive down to Texas Children's Hospital and see her, bring her home... ??????? I think I'm crazy too, so it's okay if you think so!
But while acceptance has made a home in my heart for now, little has changed in the way I look at things. One of the biggest differences is not that I don't think malicious thoughts about other newborn babies and happy-go-lucky preggo women, it's just now I feel bad about it.
I ran into someone whose daughter was named Jenna the other day and it >>>STUNG<<<
Instantly reaction - WHY DIDN'T I GET TO KEEP MY JENNA?! She's got like a MILLION kids anyway...
But then I felt bad. Really bad. Why doesn't she deserve to keep her Jenna? She worked just as hard as I did to bring her baby into this world. I can rationalize away my anger on some level, which is definitely progress. Before I was just so angry and there was no rationalizing within a million miles. I felt justified in my anger.
It's a weird place, but peaceful nonetheless. Her pictures are still hard to look at. The songs we played for her in her incubator on her little MP3 player are still hard to listen to without crying my eyeballs out. Visiting her is still hard...
Her things, her memories, her face... all still hard... hard... hard...
And I don't look for signs anymore. I think that's sad. I didn't even realize it right away, but I don't search the clouds anymore hoping I'll get a glimpse of her riding on the back of her pony, or a heart drawn in the sky, or an angel carrying her. I really used to look for her in the clouds. Maybe because clouds are the closest thing to my idea of heaven??? I don't know, but I did. I sort of miss that very raw pain that drew me to a child's faith. It was no place I could dwell for long, as I have realized. The rawness is gone. And it's sad that the search for signs are too.
But that's where I am. At the mercy of this grief as I have so often repeated myself.
And that brings up another thought that I have been wrestling with. When will I have exhausted this space with the same two hundred thoughts written over and over again? How long will I need to type here to remember her? I feel guilty for even thinking like that, but will it be a lifetime journal? Will it be for a year or two? Will this turn into one of those blogs that haven't been updated in years?
I guess one hope I have always had for this space is that her future siblings can come here and read about their sister and become acquainted with the grief that we bore through her loss.
:::
It's almost 10 months later I can honestly say grief does NOT define who I am; my daughter's life, her existence has redefined me. There was a day that I believed grief - my sadness would define who I was for the rest of my life. It's strange to be able to "look back" on where I have been in this grief, because more often than not, I felt at a standstill and I did not feel like I was moving in any direction except backwards. For the most part, I am still on a roller coaster with very high ups and very low downs. But the rawness is behind me. And when I am in the pit of grief, or on a mountain top, I can at least recognize that this is just the way grief is going to be. Unpredictable.
Urgent Prayer Request
It seems our eyes are open to this loss and grief like never before. I just read an email about a couple who just lost their baby boy at 37 weeks. Stephanie, who is currently carrying to term a baby that won't make it either, is the one who has learned of their loss. Please carry this family in your thoughts and prayers. Please visit Stephanie's blog to read a little more about the situation.
Thank you
Thank you
3.01.2010
The UPs in Grief
Butterfly Mommies is having a giveaway as a special way to get to know each other and connect...
Their prompt, What positive things have come from the loss of your baby(ies)?
A positive thing that has come as a direct result of losing Jenna, is the production of her memory Garden! I am beyond excited about it, so I thought I'd share about it for the giveaway.
Another positive thing that has been born out of this loss, is my blog design studio, called Small Bird Studio (named after my Jenna of course). I have discovered my LOVE for designing blogs... SO....MUCH...FUN!!!
well about the garden...
Saturday was the epitome of a perfect day for getting the Jenna garden started. I cannot describe in words how healing it was to be at the nursery (ironic to me that a place called a nursery is healing). I was there probably 2-3 hours. I really lost track of time and had no place else to be - it was FABULOUS. The name of this nursery is Arbor Gate. They carry your normal gardening flowers and such, but their assortment and variety far outweighs that of big chain nurseries down here. I filled up two wagon fulls of all sorts of flowers and shrubs. Mostly flowers.
I will someday soon share the names of the flowers, but for now I don't remember most of them! I just spent an absorbent amount of time reading the labels and the "planting directions" on each one. (I am ridiculously lost at this whole gardening scene).
I found a flower called a fuchsia. Yes, a FUCHSIA! And I bought a ton of them!
I didn't take a pic of the ones I have yet, but here is what they look like! Aren't they lovely???
Their prompt, What positive things have come from the loss of your baby(ies)?
A positive thing that has come as a direct result of losing Jenna, is the production of her memory Garden! I am beyond excited about it, so I thought I'd share about it for the giveaway.
Another positive thing that has been born out of this loss, is my blog design studio, called Small Bird Studio (named after my Jenna of course). I have discovered my LOVE for designing blogs... SO....MUCH...FUN!!!
well about the garden...
Saturday was the epitome of a perfect day for getting the Jenna garden started. I cannot describe in words how healing it was to be at the nursery (ironic to me that a place called a nursery is healing). I was there probably 2-3 hours. I really lost track of time and had no place else to be - it was FABULOUS. The name of this nursery is Arbor Gate. They carry your normal gardening flowers and such, but their assortment and variety far outweighs that of big chain nurseries down here. I filled up two wagon fulls of all sorts of flowers and shrubs. Mostly flowers.
I will someday soon share the names of the flowers, but for now I don't remember most of them! I just spent an absorbent amount of time reading the labels and the "planting directions" on each one. (I am ridiculously lost at this whole gardening scene).
I found a flower called a fuchsia. Yes, a FUCHSIA! And I bought a ton of them!
I didn't take a pic of the ones I have yet, but here is what they look like! Aren't they lovely???
So the garden looked something like this before we began planting...
I hope you can see how it is in the shape of angel wings... It was hard to get a full pic
And a walkway :) :) :) I anticipate many days spent here :)
I laid out all the flower pots where I wanted them...
And I had to get some GERBERAS!!! I can't wait to take Jenna some flowers from her very own garden!
Okay so this pic is not the best, but here is an almost finished product...
I did end up making another trip but this time to Home Depot to get some things we needed like fertilizer and shovels (up til this point we were using well, our hands!) Thank God the dirt was soft!
Here is little better pic of the almost finished Jenna garden...
Colors! Colors! Colors!!!! Love it!!!
So I was beyond exhausted by the time we reached a finishing point. We literally spent all Saturday out there. I promise for better pictures soon, this morning I found puddles in my muddy backyard (new neighborhood... grass is still growing in after an unusually cold winter for Texas). I will get out there and get some more pics when the dirt dries up :)
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