Fleeting Memories

I was told right after you died, to write my memories down. The small ones, the ones I cherished because they happened with you. The ones I thought surely I'd never forget. I am so glad I did.

There are times like today when you feel not just dead, but far far away. So far away that your life is like a dream. But then I see that picture in the kitchen and I know you happened. I am so sorry. I hate that my mind does this. I can't even pinpoint what drags me into this abyss where you just seem so far from me. Maybe it has to do with time, and how six months will be here too soon.

Regardless, I want to share a memory or two that I have written down. It's been awhile since I let myself crack these open. They hurt, Jenna. They hurt. But I want to be close to you again.

Right after you died, no sooner would my eyes start to well up with tears that I would hear your soft sweet spirit assuring me "I'm okay, Mommy."

But now that's gone. I know you're okay, but I miss that feeling of how I just knew you were right there next to me as Mommy was balling her eyes out in the car at the red light.

I remember...

Being afraid the first time I laid eyes on you in the NICU. I asked the nurse if it was okay to touch you and she let me. I was so afraid of hurting you. She did tell me not to caress you since your nervous system had not fully developed and caressing would more than likely agitate you. I could not believe how small you were! But also pretty long for such a small baby. It was so surreal to behold the very creature that only hours prior had been kicking me furiously with that stupid monitor strapping you down! Fearfully and wonderfully made - what a truth! Your feet were long and your fingers were long too, just like mine. I told everybody that they would not go to waste and would definitely be learning the piano. =) I could not wait. I remember observing you for hours on end and studying your fingernails and toenails. How perfect you were.

You never let in on how much pain you were really in. I still can't move past that point of how much pain I am no doubt responsible for. But I was trying to give you every chance to live. The doctors never let us believe that it was hopeless until the end. We had to believe in those small chances, every last one of them - if it meant fighting to keep you with us. Thank you for being such a fighter, Jenna.

In Jenna's Name

In honor of my sweet Jenna's life, I have started creating Hope Collages for babylost mamas. It seems there are never enough ways to memorialize their lives.

I can do this for children of all ages, up to 18 years old. If you have lost or know someone that has lost a child due to miscarriage, neonatal loss, illness, tragedy, or anything really, I would be honored to create one for them. I would like to be able to do this for as long as I can.

There are a lifetime of words that will never be spoken because we were asked to say goodbye too soon. This is a way to piece all those words together that so often remind us of our angels. I do this free of charge and the turnaround time is 5-7 days.

Please visit Abiding Hope Collages at: www.hopecollage.org if you are interested.

Here are some examples of the hope collages...

Just What I Needed

Today I was having a day that started ok but quickly spiraled downward. When I checked the mail, I found this in the mailbox and it made me cry more, but it was just what I needed. Thank you, Deborah.
In case you don't know, Deborah sends babylost mamas these beautiful handkerchiefs from her blog For Your Tears.

Aside from this gift being the consolation I needed, it was also perfect. When Jenna died, we dressed her in a white dress with lavender embroidery at the top. I will always associate the color lavender with her death. The night she was born and put in the NICU, the nurse put a bright red bow with polkadots on her sweet baby curls. But I wanted to keep that bow as a precious precious memory. So to match her dress, we put a white bow on her. Anyway, I just wanted to openly thank Deborah and share this bittersweet moment. God really does care about us.

Texas Knows My Angel

I don't even know what to say really...
I got it today. Her birth certificate. I was instantly happy since we'd gone through a lot to get it.
But it made it real all over again.

I think the Lord in His mercy gave me a good day where I wasn't falling apart until I checked the mail this evening. I kept wondering, Why am I ok? I mean I missed her, but the pain was not consuming me today.

And then I thought it must have been orchestrated from Heaven. Just giving me a glimpse of relief before I would have to look at it. It made me happy I said, but it also made me sad.

I know these details won't mean much to most people. But it will mean something to a baby lost mother someday and hopefullly give her the assurance that she's not crazy and definitely not alone. These days are the days we'd rather not live. And they are big days. Sad days that no one on the planet (except for those who have buried a baby) understands.

It has been over three months and the state finally knows about her...

It's just a document, but it constitutes her existence on this earth for even a short while.

It is proof that my angel was not just a dream... There are times that it seems like it all happened so fast, it feels as though I dreamed the whole thing up. That is the worst worst WORST feeling. The whisper of her life and the fear of forgetting.

Pierced & Comforted

Well, at church Sunday night, I was caught off guard. Completely.

Right before our pastor dismissed the service, he announced that there would be a couple dedicating their newborn to the Lord. He reminded us that this would not save the baby's soul but was a demonstration rather of the parents' willingness to give this baby to the Lord. The pastor went on to say, as he usually does, that we appreciate a healthy baby. Healthy baby. He said we don't take that for granted around here.

Boy, was he right.

Healthy baby. Just the idea seemed like an impossibility since our first and only baby wasn't. Then I remembered Jenna. Well actually from the moment he mentioned the dedication I was thinking about her. But when he said healthy baby for some reason I just could not take it.

I really thought I had reached the farthest level of pain, but I hadn't.

There are days that I feel numb, and that bothers me. But then I realize this is a randomized pattern of emotions I just go through. Normal? Not sure yet.

But that is just the way it is. Something like this beautiful dedication was in the past just another routine ceremony I got to witness once in a while. It was especially precious when it was my niece and nephew. But Sunday it hit real close to my heart. I think it actually pierced me that night. I wanted to dedicate my baby in front of the whole church. I wanted God and the whole world to know that we would raise her right. In the Word of God. In a good home. In the house of God. Guilt and a bit of confusion lingered over my mind for a few days that the dedication made me cry in a hurtful way. I woke up three days later breaking through all the emptiness that usually reminds me of my loss each morning. I laid in bed for a while and I was thinking about the dedication. Out of nowhere, I vividly remember something coming to my mind that must have been heavensent. I realized I don't have to dedicate her to the Lord, she is already with Him! Boy that did it for me. It hardly mattered that we did not get to dedicate her anymore.

Surely that was the goodness of God.

Days Like These

"For I am become like a bottle in the smoke; yet do I not forget thy statutes."

-Psalms 119:83

Anywhere I go, I feel like there is a lonely dark shadow around me, something like this bottle in the smoke. I guess that's normal after such a loss. After life has shifted the ground back to normal for everyone else, I feel that her memory is slipping away from this world. That is when it just seems endless; the pain, the loss and the absence of hope. As I read on through Psalm 119, I read that David, in spite of his hopeless feelings, he found comfort in God.

"How sweet are thy words unto my taste! yea, sweeter than honey to my mouth!"

-Psalms 119:103