A New Journey {new blog}

It's only been four months since I've posted here. I can't really say why it's taken me so long. I've been telling myself I've said everything I can say here. Everything I feel/ think/ say now has already been voiced, many many times. I feel like a broken record.

I miss her. I want her back. I wish things had turned out differently.

But honestly, I feel like my journey has changed yet again. This time with a good dose of hope. I am ready to start embracing life, and living. Really living.

I mean I have my bad days. I think I always will, but I think I've slowly slowly s l o w l y started to accept that... this is my life.

That being said, I have always wanted this blog to be all Jenna's. I tried juggling a blog for my design stuff, another for Joseph and this one for Jenna and found out I can design many blogs at once, but I cannot keep up with more than one to my satisfaction.

I know many of you have found my other blogs, but I just thought I would invite you over, just in case.

This new blog is about my new journey. A journey that embraces the beautiful mess she left behind for the world. I think the biggest reason writing this farewell post to this blog has been so tough is because I felt like I was leaving her behind. But it took me some time to realize that the new blog, our new journey is all because of her.

I can't tell you how much I've appreciated every last comment of support over these {almost} past two years here on this blog. Looking back it has been the best support and most healing therapy I could have ever hoped for after losing our daughter. And it will always be a treasure to me, to look back on and remember.

You can find my new blog here.

xoxo

Super broken

I was talking with my husband tonight about stuff. You know the stuff that I can't just bring up on a good day. Actually today was a good day, odd- but still a good day. More on the odd later...

I told him I hide how I really feel most of the time and I'm getting really good at it. I'd say I'm a pro {though it's very possible I'm fooling myself}. I say I'm fantastic but inside I feel broken. Super broken. Shattered. And I miss my first dream like nobody knows.

I told him I get angry at people's stupid comments and would rather just not talk about her than have someone brush off my pain with an insensitive comment like "Well at least she's in a better place." 

Is this true? Yes. 

Does it help? Not a bit these days.

It's the 'moving forward' and 'embracing life' that people want to see, especially after they've witnessed your first smile and had your first normal conversation after her death. Most days I am embracing life {still trying to figure out the whole 'moving on' thing}. But even on those days I'll be caught away in a moment of sublime guilt or intense sadness. 

I missed out on a world. She was my world. She is my world. And when that spills out you realize who can handle your grief and who can't. 

Somedays I can't grasp the reality of Heaven because all I can see is the world she left behind. There are moments when I just can't understand why some babies are born healthy and others have to fight for their every breath. I guess I've lost perspective. I'm lost in this gray area between healing and anger. Aren't I already supposed to be past the "worst" part of this grief? From reading many many {many} other BLM blogs, I realize the "worst" just pops up whenever it feels like it. Uninvited but here nonetheless.

babyland

We went to see her yesterday and like always they were setting up for more funerals. That's just sad. Only this time there were THREE. Boy.

I was meeting hubby up there so in the mean time I drove past baby land. Jenna is not buried in baby land. Sometimes I wish she was, but the baby land at her cemetery is awful. Seriously. It's got a tall fence between the plots and a small power plant. I don't know what the crap they were thinking when they planned to put baby land in that spot.

I got out and walked around baby land. There were several new plots. All of them with tons of balloons, flowers, toys. It just broke my heart and I thought about how each of these represented a world that had fallen to pieces.

Two of the first plots I saw in baby land yesterday had my birthday on them. One of the baby girls had been born, and another had died on that day. Different years. I thought about my life in 2005 and 2006. I had no idea that as I was celebrating my 20th and 21st birthdays someone was saying goodbye to their baby. And the other was welcoming their baby who would only live for less than a year.

I thought about how I've never wanted anything more in my life. I wanted that miracle. I believed I would get it too. I miss her with my whole heart and it hurts with a different ache this time of year.

Reminded

You know things just happen. They come up. And suddenly a whirlwind of possibility sweeps over you and you realize what could have been. All over again. And then I get to asking myself - Haven't I already been here, like a thousand times!? The life that so quickly slipped clean out of your hands. Or maybe it's just me. I like to think I'm not alone.

It happened. I slipped and the whirlwind swept over me like a lead balloon. It makes me crazy how quickly she came and then left. And her visit, as I like to think of it, has made all the difference. It's then that I am reminded not only of what I lost, but to what I am called.

You hear so many things that are meant to comfort a bereaved parent, like "God needed an angel" or "God knows best" or even "she was too precious for this earth". But at the end of the day none of these things fill the gaping hole in your heart.

I do believe God knows best but I don't think he needed her to die. It just happened. Plain and simple. And of all people I got to carry her. She is part of my story and one of the biggest reasons my life is what it is today. I got reminded today of how much a one pound baby changed my world. I owe her everything.

Wordless Wednesday

Hardly

It doesn't get easier. My heart will always be filled with wonder.

I don't feel liberty to talk about it like I used to. And that's okay. But I have been suffocating with exhaustion. And suddenly I am so thankful for this blog.

A place of release.

I miss her like crazy. This week has just been hard for some reason. I am not a blubbering mess, more like a shaken bottle ready to burst. The reminders keep building, the what-ifs always a thought away.

I feel incomplete.

I have accepted that she isn't in this world. I don't look for her anymore. She isn't here. If you've never lost a child you probably think I'm crazy but I used to look for her. It seemed insane that the child I carried for 29 weeks just wasn't a part of my life anymore.

Something new happened this week. I suddenly don't miss the NICU. I am suddenly very happy to have that part of our life behind us. I would give anything to be with her, even if it meant the NICU, but I guess I have accepted that as part of our past too. Forever in the past.

:::

Not too long ago I saw a little girl about 18 months old. She was so excited to see our little boy. She had a doll hanging from her clumsy little hands and waddled over to Joseph just repeating "Baby! Baby!" Pointing to him, her parents sort of embarrassed. I loved it of course. She was the sweetest thing. I asked how old she was.

18 months.

I smiled and we laughed about how big our little guy was. Comical.

Then it hit me. I should have a little girl almost 18 months too. I should know what 18 month olds say. What 18 month olds do. What 18 month olds look like. Jenna would already be into dolls and dresses, excited about real babies. I walked away keenly unaware of the life that slipped right out of my hands a year and a half ago.

Sometimes forever seems like just yesterday. I miss my Jenna.

It hardly gets easier.

photo credit

The Walk

It was beyond beautiful and more than I ever expected. 

I was honored to share this day with my mother, beautiful friend Amy, and a few others who were able to be there.

We hung a beautiful ornament on a tree when they called Jenna's name. 

Isn't it beautiful? It is now dangling from our living room fan chain. Not sure if it'll stay there but I like looking at it.

My poor husband wanted to come even after having a wisdom tooth pulled a few hours prior. 

He is my hero.

 

Us getting ready for the balloon release...

So we totally write on her balloons at the cemetery. It was nice to be able to do this at the ceremony too when they started handing out sharpies. And we always like to draw our favorite cat on her balloons too. His name was Bootes (named after the constellation). He was a legend. 

I'll leave it at that. 

I don't have too many pictures of her, but this little girl standing next to me on the right is also another of my heroes... heroines actually. She is five years old and fighting Leukemia. She just passed her one year mark. Anyway, she never met our Jenna but I just love how she can talk with me about her. And her mother is pretty awesome too! (Love you Amy!)

 And well.. here is baby brother. I know this isn't his blog. And truth be told I'm a terrible blogger anyway. I haven't updated his blog in ages. Not sure which direction I will be going. I have way too many blogs. I hope you don't mind if I share a little of him here too from time to time.

It was just the cherry on top to be able to meet in person (for the first time might I add) a few beautiful bloggy friends. First... Mary from The Great Elephant Symposium. It was neat because I met her through Carly Marie's IBMD project. I would have otherwise never had the chance to meet another BLM in real life. It was beautiful. Sad but beautiful all the same.

And... Ashley from Missing Mackenzie :) 

It's neat meeting bloggy friends in person because it doesn't feel like your meeting for the first time. And I guess in a way you're not? :)

I look forward to attending the Walk next year :)

Fuchsia petals & bloggy award

This morning the cool October breeze could be felt. It feels like fall. At least in the mornings. It was marvelous. I only wish I had more time to blog, read blogs... but I didn't want to forget this so I wanted to share it here.

In Jenna's garden (mind you, there are weeds all over it) I spotted three fuchsia roses. :]

I don't think there's ever been a sweeter rose in her garden. She knew I needed this today. I pulled out her scrapbook to share at the Walk later today. Pictures still make me cry. Certain pictures.

Thank you Jenna for sending me this beautiful rose. It's perfect- just like you.

I also wanted to thank Wyatt's Mommy and Michelle for the Blog Award. I would like to pass this onto everyone that commented on my last post about Jenna's cloud heart :]

Rules are made to be broken, right?

;)

Tiffany
Jaime
butterflymom
Tina
Caroline
Jill
Dana
Heather
Michelle
Tami
Lisette
Jennifer
Wyatt's Mommy 
Debby
ButterflyChik
Heather

I hope everyone has a beautiful weekend.

XO

I Love You Too Jenna

She drew me a heart in the sky on our way back home this evening.

I needed that.

Miss you baby girl.

With Love Care Packages

Tonight began the start of something new. I am very hopeful and feeling rather optimistic about this project. It's a lot. It really is, but I have wonderful support and I cannot wait to start putting these care packages together.

We are calling the care package program With Love. It is named With Love because these packages are made with love from other babylost mothers. Every last thing inside them is given/made or donated by a babylost mother and/or supporter.

For starters, we are kicking off with the Pregnancy/ Infant Loss Memorial Flourishes. All proceeds made from these will go toward buying the boxes themselves and offsetting the cost of the care packages down the road. 

And let me just say THANK YOU THANK YOU THANK YOU to everyone that has already made such generous donations. Every last dollar helps.

In a few months With Love will hopefully be expanding it's efforts into local NICUs to help parents with babies in the NICU and also reaching out to the staff in the NICUs to show appreciation. For those of you who have had children in the NICU, I know that this place holds a special place in your heart. Even if it's just a card a couple times a year, or a fruit basket... I would love to get something going to just say thank you to Jenna's nurses and other special hearts like them.

Also, I thought I would add something from the last post about the care packages. First of all I decided to not replace the old memory box site, but just start a new blog altogether for this program. I realize there are a few who may just want to purchase a memory from their child's hope collage, so I will keep those available.

:::

Well a little about the flourishes... each flourish is fastened to a pink and teal satin ribbon (teal is just so much prettier than light blue in my opinion! ;) which has a broach pin on the back. You can also request multiple rosettes on one for multiple losses.

For more information on the flourishes, the care packages and anything else, please check out the With Love Care Packages site. I would also love and very much appreciate your feedback. 

Without you none of this is possible. Your support and love means the world to me. I would also like to send out a special thank you to all the babylost mothers taking part in these care packages for your generosity and support - Carly, Tina, Michelle, Rachel, and Kristin.

If you would like to help, please spread the word about With Love through a blog post, sharing our site through facebook, email, whatever's easiest for you. You can also grab our button too. Just click on "ways to help" and the button's on that page.

You can find us on our very own facebook page here. Here you'll get all the updates of what's going on.

I've been here before

Something tells me I've been here before.

With the changing of seasons and the hint of fall in the air the familiarity of this drift haunts me.

Yet again.

The heat is still pretty intense in south Texas but slowly letting up. I'm itching to pull out my boots and scarves and maybe even go shopping for some new winter apparel.

As I watch the season slowly drift to our cool weather friend, it haunts me as does every big change that I am nothing without faith. Without faith I am no closer to her today than I was the day she died.

But I am closer to her today. I know it.

It's just not always easy to see it that way when everything around me convinces me that time is taking me further and further away.

And as I do so often these days I can only wonder...

Care Packages for October 15

My heart just falls out of my chest when I hear the word NICU or hear about another micro-preemie. It's a tender spot in my heart, and it's something I welcome because it's something Jenna left behind for me to feel. I want so badly to reach families in the NICU enduring neonatal loss.

So... I am changing the way I do my memory boxes.

They are going more of a care package for newly bereaved parents. There are some special things going inside, which is in the works right now, but I can't figure out how to make them available to these newly bereaved parents without asking for your help.

For starters, I will be calling local hospitals even if Jenna's hospital won't accept them there are so many others that need to provide some type of care package to newly bereaved parents. Truth be told, Jenna's hospital supplied us with a beautiful care package anyway. It was a giant pink square box with pamphlets on grieving and support group contact info inside... I can't remember most of it, as it was mostly papers... but they also included a clay mold of her feet and hand in another purple box wrapped inside a receiving blanket (the other hand had the awful IV in it so only one had got to be molded) :(

Anyway... there's so much that needs to change when parents leave the hospital empty-handed. There were so many women that told me they left with little or nothing besides a broken heart. Many large hospitals have made strides in this area and supply these parents with beautiful mementoes and all sorts of unexpected things. I remember the nurse telling me I could take anything from Jenna's isolette I wanted. I remember we took a her name tag taped on the front of her isolette, probably a few other things and a diaper :) It was TINY. It was still huge on my little girl though, but I love that I got to keep something like that. We actually took several and gave one to my grandmother and the other to Pete's grandmother. They adore that small keepsake to this day. It's seriously one of the cutest little things you've ever seen.

So hopefully by October 15 in honor of all our babies, this new site (I hope hope hope) will go public, it will actually be replacing the current memory box site. There will be many types of care packages specific for things like:

*neonatal/infant loss
*fatal diagnosis
*miscarriage

*stillbirth

*baby's first birthday anniversary

I don't want to leave any type of loss out, so please let me know if something needs to be added. The care packages will range in sizes, and gifts inside to fit all budgets. The outside of the memory boxes will look similar to the Memory Box Collection- different quotes/ themes around the box.

Kristin Cook has graciously allowed me to use her resources page info to put inside the boxes for these newly bereaved parents. There are a few other special women around the babylost community working with me on this project too. Along with the small mementoes and gifts inside the box I will also be including a list of support places online and special ways to remember your baby.

I am seriously so excited about this. It's already tragic enough to leave the hospital without your baby... a feeling of drowning emptiness. I just remember feeling so useless and powerless. Like the battle had ended. The war was over. What was the point of going on? I know that no care package can replace or even come close to mending such an empty feeling but if I can ease the pain just a tad and show these families that there is support, and that there is a world of mothers just like them who get it, then I want to do it.

I hope you'll help me spread the word, and follow this new cause. I will probably be creating a page or something on Facebook to get the word out. Any idea that you might have are welcome too!

A side note: This blog has been my lifeline since Jenna died. And I can't say thank you enough to all of you who come and read, even if you don't comment. It means the world that you care enough to come and read about me, my daughter and our life after losing her.

Going Backwards

Or so it seems. There are just things that happen... things that come up... things that I remember. Some people call them triggers, but I have learned that they are life. A big part of life.

The other day after Bubby fell asleep I went through one of Jenna's fuchsia bins, the ones that hold some of her things. This one had a stack of cards we received from people along with some other mementos. And then I saw it.

The Jenna Journal. How could I forget? But I did. It had been such a long time since I had opened those bins and a really long time since I'd seen or read anything in the Jenna Journal.

I don't think I've ever shared the Jenna Journal with anyone on my blog before.

This journal was kept by Jenna's side in the NICU. We asked everyone who visited her and us there to sign it. My intention was to document a miracle and twenty years from now let her read the journal that loving family and friends had written in to her as a preemie baby.

Well I never imagined that the journal wouldn't be filled up but about twenty pages. And that in itself is a miracle. The NICU at Texas Children's Hospital said they'd never seen a NICU baby get so many visits like they saw with Jenna.

Good times. Hard times. I miss those times.

it's okay

That I can't see you everyday and who you'd be today.
It's okay that we weren't meant to be together in this life.
It's okay that I miss you everyday.
It's okay that it hasn't gotten easier to learn that someone else is having a girl.
It's okay that I visit you in a cemetery.
It's okay that I don't write on your blog like I used to.
It's okay that your brother won't ever know you in person, but only through pictures and stories.
It's okay that your life was short.
It's okay that my heart breaks when I remember our time with you.
It's okay that I don't know if I could handle having another baby girl.
It's okay that I smile and mean it.
It's okay that I don't cry when I talk about you every time.
It's okay that sometimes I can't talk about you.
It's okay that some of the memories are still too painful.
It's okay that I get mad at God sometimes still.
It's okay that I ask why almost everyday, even if it's under my breath or in a sigh.
It's okay that you won't be here for this Christmas either.
It's okay that you're in Heaven.
It's okay that most people are 'over' it.
It's okay that I miss you alone most days.
It's okay that this is my life.

I just miss you, Jenna. More than I could ever ever put into words. 16 months and a day ago you made me a mommy.

Mommy Shoes

Triggers can come from the most unlikely sources.

I glanced in my closet the other day. The shelf that used to hold all my high fashion stilettos is now filled up with mommy shoes. I worked at an optical store where it made sense to dress up everyday and I loved it. My husband thought it best to not chance an accident while I was pregnant with Jenna (I am as clumsy as they come), so my journey in mommy shoes began almost two years ago. I think about a few of the stilettos I have left collecting dust. It captures a moment in time. The shoes I used to wear. The girl I used to be.

They don't even fit right anymore.

I thought last night how different life might would be with a 15 month old running around. Lately another thought has been tormenting me that I may never have another little girl. I've been making these and I have no idea if it will ever be for my little girl.

I thought about 15 months and how much life has changed. I breath without taking deep breaths every five minutes and I didn't know how I would keep breathing. I laugh and I never thought I would be able to thoroughly enjoy life again. I smile and I never thought it sincerely possible after burying her. I love and I never thought I'd be able to love fully again.

But somehow the grief that used to be unbearable becomes bearable. And the sadness that used to be too heavy to tote around everywhere becomes a part of who you are. The tears that fall when it's not socially acceptable become a silent ache that no one can see but you and God. The memories that you used to spill out every chance you got now seem too sacred to share with just anybody.

I've always wanted to wear mommy shoes I just never thought it would be this pair.

15 months

today since we said goodbye.

It was her

When the stars fill the midnight sky we are only a dream away from being together...

Bubby usually sleeps through the night and has been for the past two weeks.

But not a few nights ago. In the middle of his diaper change at the ungodly hour of 3am it suddenly hit me that it happened again. It was her. In my dreams.

I don't remember the details and oh, how I've tried to retrace the dream over and over grasping for anything I might remember to no avail. But I knew she was there.

And like our enemy of time she was fading. The dream faded, though I knew it happened. Saturday night.

Until next time I can't wait to hold her in my dreams again.

something to say

I wish I had something to say today. Maybe that's why I feel like I always I need something to do. As long as I am doing, doing something as a direct result of Jenna - her life and death - I don't feel like I have to think of anything to say. Sometimes I feel though that I don't talk about her enough. It hurts sometimes to talk about her and other times I am afraid that others are just tired of hearing it. I mean it's been over a year and to the rest of the world that usually translates as "oh, she's doing so much better now, especially since she has a healthy baby now..."

Well here's some truth.

I hurt everyday. I miss her everyday. And with every milestone our healthy baby passes my heart aches a little more because now I know what I am missing.

I should be a pro at being a mommy. And by pro I don't mean a mommy that has all the answers and never has bad kids or those embarrassing moments in the grocery store. I mean pro - like I should at least have an idea what a three month old is supposed to be doing instead of looking it up on Babycenter. Pro - like I should have some kind of clue what sort of activities are good for my baby's development. Pro - like I should already know when my baby will be teething.... will be able to eat baby food... will be sitting up by himself...

Enough truth for today. I just miss her.

Heart Songs

Sometimes there are no words for the things my heart has to say.

Sometimes it's expressed in an idea or a sigh. Sometimes it's expressed in the way I can or cannot sing. Sometimes it's expressed in my lack of ability to slow down. Sometimes it's expressed in a silent prayer.

Sometimes it's expressed in my need to live life fully, feel every rose petal, soak in the heat, stare out the window and absorb every detail.. because you just never know.

Life, as I have learned is not something I own. It is a gift that I hope to wear out completely. I don't want to look back one day and wonder. I wonder all the time about Jenna and it's already too much.

Lately my heart just pains to hold her. And so often I feel guilty for needing a sign that she is really in Heaven. I don't doubt that she lives there, but sometimes it just seems so...far...away.

The longer I go without saying her name I feel like I am choking. I have a NEED to talk about her, although it's not always that easy.

Since the hospital declined the Hope Collages to be a part of their care packages for parents, I literally felt like she died all over again. It was silly I guess, but I feel like a piece of her is still there. It's where I met my baby girl. It's where we said goodbye. It was the last place I saw her. I have found other ways to reach bereaved parents at the hospital, which is encouraging.

I have found that little Joseph loves to stare at our pictures on our walls. Many in our living room are pictures of us and Jenna. I hope that he knows there's someone extra special in those. I'll bet he knows more than I realize.

When I read about babyloss mamas grieving over their babies who have been gone more than a year, it a relief because I don't feel rushed. I can feel parts of this wound that have been healed, but the soarness lingers. The pain is still there and the scar is embedded into who I will forever be. It's this new life I've been given to walk.

I've been reading Angie Smith's book "I Will Carry You". I think the biggest impact this book has had on me was her emphasis on prayer. She talks a lot about her prayer life before, during and after her loss. Ironically I believe this is what God has been dealing with me about. Trusting Him enough to take this broken heart every single day. Every single hour. Again and again and again.

Somedays I feel completely humbled that God would choose me to mother such a special little girl. After all, most people will never experience the love and hope we knew those 13 days. What a tremendous gift. And I'd like that to be my heart song for tonight. And hopefully this week. One day at a time.

She was such a gift.

your handprints

I thought of you today. Something about a beautiful sunset reminds me of you. I took this a little over a week ago.

I'll keep your sail in the wind if it's all I ever do.