In preparation for the day I would meet my daughter, we had weekly appointments and close to 15 ultrasounds. Everything that could be planned in advance was. I was meticulous as to ensure that every detail was well thought out and what was best for Addy was always the focus. As meticulous as I was, I never considered the possibility that my water could break. We were planning to be induced (at the recommendation of my medical team) so it never crossed my mind that I would spontaneously go into labor.   

 It was one year ago that my water unexpectedly broke.



Hidden beneath that smile and those tear swollen eyes was fear. 

Fear of physically enduring labor. 
 But more so, fear of emotionally enduring what was to come.

Regardless of the number of appointments or the number of conversations discussing Addy's life, there was no way to prepare myself to face life and death in the same moment.

Even today, I would be without the words to adequately prepare myself.

Back To The Zoo

...March 16, 2013...

I was 35 weeks and 2 days pregnant when we opted to take Addy to the zoo.

{ This was my very last maternity picture taken prior to my water breaking. }

Today, exactly one year later, I went back to the zoo to honor Addy's memory.

 
I hope she knows how loved and deeply missed she is. 
This momma will forever celebrate her. 

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And a very special thank you to these two. 

When I asked them to go with (in 33 degree weather with a wintry mixed), they didn't hesitate.
I am overjoyed by their love and support.

Bad Days

Thank you.

Thank you for the out pour of love, support, and encouragement.

 I am beyond touched and humbled by the number of people who cared enough to read my story. And even more so by  the number of people who have committed to pray for me. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

I do want you to know that I have bad days. 

I have days where I am consumed with an intense feeling of anger.

I have days when I feel so deeply wounded that the tears will not cease.

I have days when the loss is so profound that I fear I will never feel whole again.

I have days when I want to pull the covers up over my head and hide from the reality that is my life.

Bad days...they are real. 

On bad days, I battle the voice in my head that tells me I am not worthy.

The voice that tells me I am not good enough, not good enough to be a mom and not good enough to be a wife. On bad days, the questions of how and why overtake my spirit.

I am far from perfect but every morning I look into the mirror and command myself to march on. I am not embarrassed to say that I still see a counselor regularly. She has been instrumental in helping me to face life. I would pay her every week just to hear her say that I am doing really well given the "simultaneous yet unrelated grief cycles" that I am trying to navigate.  It would be easier to numb the feelings with an escape of choice...food, alcohol, spending, over commitment. But numbing is only temporary and eventually the high will fade. What is harder is to fight back. To fight against that voice in your head, to face life when it is hard, and to march on even when doing so hurts.

Someday, I want to breathe in deep and feel, in the pit of my soul, that all is well. 

To forgive and be set free begins with laying down my stones.

The teachers of the law and the Pharisees brought in a woman caught in adultery. They made her stand before the group and said to Jesus, “Teacher, this woman was caught in the act of adultery.  In the Law Moses commanded us to stone such women. Now what do you say?”  They were using this question as a trap, in order to have a basis for accusing him.

But Jesus bent down and started to write on the ground with his finger. When they kept on questioning him, he straightened up and said to them, “Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.”  Again he stooped down and wrote on the ground.

At this, those who heard began to go away one at a time, the older ones first, until only Jesus was left, with the woman still standing there. Jesus straightened up and asked her, “Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?”

 “No one, sir,” she said.

“Then neither do I condemn you,” Jesus declared. “Go now and leave your life of sin.” 

John 8:3-11

I laid down my stones.
I laid them down knowing that my God whom was nailed to the cross for the forgiveness of my sins, had His blood shed for the forgives of his sins too.

I lay down my stones and remind myself every morning that God has a plan for me.

For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.”   Jeremiah 29:11

Being Authentic

  It's March 1st. 
I want my month of March to be about my daughter and honoring her memory. 
To do that though, I need to get something off my chest. 
Something I have been harboring for quite some time. 

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I have written and rewritten this post several times.

It is difficult for me to share.

I started blogging years ago when we were newly married and had just purchased our first place. I wanted to document our journey to make our new house into a home. After we learned of the challenges of our pregnancy, my blog became a way to keep our families up to date on Addy’s prognosis and it became a form of therapy for me as I navigated the ups and downs. I want it to be a way to ensure that my Addalyn is remembered but also a way for me to heal.

I believe that there will come a time when the words that I type will be words of joy, happiness, and triumph but that is just not where my life is at the present.

I struggle to share the reality of me because opening up makes the present more real. And the reality is not one I have fully come to terms with.

And, I struggle to share my hurt after the pain that my journey has brought to those who love me already this year. I know that my family and friends were affected by the passing of my beloved daughter and they too are working through the grief. So, sharing my current struggle is difficult for me as I feel like I am adding to the pain for so many who have faithfully loved and supported me throughout this most difficult year.

But I desire to be real, genuine, and authentic.

It is not easy to share but I can tell you that life is not easy.

As if my pregnancy, the loss of my beloved daughter, and my grief in her absence was not enough for one year, my already broken heart has been enduring more.

--------

We started dating on my 16th birthday...7.1.2001.

On 7.26.2008, we said our vows and made a forever promise to each other. I love him and I believed in our marriage to the core of my being.

Last week, I sat before a judge and what I believed to be my forever, legally came to an end. Our marriage ended in divorce because the vows of honesty and faithfulness were broken.

 

I learned of his affair in September but I was not in a place where I was ready to share. Honestly, I am still not sure I am ready but each time I get an email/text/or letter of well wishes addressed to us or get asked how “we” are, I cringe. I yearn to be authentic and true to where I am in my life. But, I knew just saying that I was going through a divorce would never suffice. It would not be enough because the first place that your mind would wonder to would be that our marriage ended in divorce because the grief was too much or because our marriage could not overcome the death of our daughter.  My beloved daughter is innocent and this momma needs her to be protected. She had nothing to do with the demise of my marriage so she will not be assumed to be the cause nor will she ever be blamed. I do know that grief is hard…I am living it. And, I do know that the death of a child can take a toll on a marriage but the choices were his.  He began his affair knowing that we were pregnant and before we knew of any complications with our Addalyn’s development. My Addalyn is wanted, she is deeply loved, and she is inexplicably missed. I can assure you, it will continue to be my life's work to ensure that she is not forgotten.

I am devastated, sad, and hurt. At times, I am even angry.

But, it is not my place to judge or condemn. I believe that we will all be held accountable for the lives we lived. When my time comes to be reunited with my Addalyn, I want to stand before the Creator and hear him say, “well done my good and faithful servant.” Well done, not because I have achieved perfection or lived an extraordinary life. But, well done because I have trusted God has a plan for me and despite the overwhelming pain and heartache that I have endured this year, I have tried to faithfully trust that God is in control.  So I won’t harbor anger or even hate. By His grace, there will come a season when the hurt will cease.

So, it has just been me.  The child and the hubby whom I should rise to every morning and cuddle up with every night are simply no longer present. It has just been me, me and a long road of healing as I have been navigating the first of every milestone without my child and the first of everything in 12 years that I have not had him by my side. It has been a lot to bear. There is longing for my daughter and for my groom and an emptiness in their absence.

As I have prayed so many times over the last year, I continue to pray for the peace that surpasses all understanding (Philippians 4:7). 

May He continue to mend my broken heart and transcend my weary spirit.

Do You Have Kids?

I did something that I told myself I would never do. 

In a moment of panic,  I denied my daughter's existence.

I was at work and caught up in a conversation with a family.

When I was asked if I had any children, in an instant a word came out of my mouth.

I responded, "um, um, no."

Visions of my Addalyn flooded my head as a weight dropped on my chest. 

Instant guilt and pain set in. I didn't mean to deny her. 

I know she was, she is, and she will forever be my daughter.

When asked, I do not respond "yes" because of the questions that follow.

Boy or girl? What is her name? How old is she?

Those questions sting.

My usual response is, "I do not have any living children."

I have never been asked in response, "well how many deceased children do you have?"

It is a direct answer that does not need any explanation nor does it deny her life.

I was caught off guard, panicked, and instantly regretted my response.

I have one child and I am her very proud momma. 

To the moon and back.

Facelift

Awe, it feels like I can breathe a little better. 

Sookie Jane received a little facelift because I craved less clutter and more simplicity in my life.  It went from this...

To a more simple and clean layout...

2014 is a year of mind, body, and spiritual healing for me.

It is a year of new beginnings and change.

And change started with an overhaul of Sookie Jane.

  

Check that off the to-do list!

What to Say to a Grieving Parent

I am rarely on Facebook but today I did log in and I saw this article trending. 

I found it to be pretty spot on. I share because I feel like it is a good reference for those who have friends that have lost a child and just don't know what to say to them. 

http://stillstandingmag.com/2014/01/6-things-never-say-bereaved-parent/ 

Reflecting

I have been on a bit of a sabbatical from blogging as of late.

Thank you to those of you who continue to check in, I am grateful for your support.

When the time is right, I will share where I am in my life.

In the meantime, I once again am reflecting on were I was a year ago today.
It was a year ago that we met with the fetal health team at Children's Mercy. 
 It was one of the most difficult days of my pregnancy. 

You can read my reflection after the appointment by clicking here. 

One Year Ago

There are very specific dates over the course of my pregnancy that I think will always be engrained into my memory. One of those days was the day that I went for the MRI...December 27, 2012. The sounds, the inability to move, the sweat running down my back, and a pure nervousness for what could possible be revealed...I remember it like it was yesterday.

You can reread my thoughts following the MRI by clicking here.

I vividly remember the conversation that I had with the perinatologist that day. I was about to walk out of work when he called. I remember what I was wearing, where I sat, and who was in the office with me.  I remember trying to write as fast as I could on a series of post-it notes. I could tell in his voice that Addy's prognosis was not good. I could hear his genuine and heartfelt concern. After explaining all the anomalies, he explained how he called every hospital in the nation that offer experimental in utero surgeries for babies with right sided diaphragmatic hernias.  None of the hospitals would accept our case but I was touched by his efforts. 

That conversation changed me.

I refused to give up hope but my momma instinct was not good.

Christmas 2013

I have always loved Christmas.

The lights, the carols, the decorations, the family time, and the birth of the savior.

But this year I didn't decorate my house. I just wasn't feeling the joy of the season.

But, I didn't want my Addy to think that she was not being remembered during the holiday season. So, I bought a couple of ornaments and made a few more and the only decor in my home this season is Addy's Tree.

And, I carried on a family tradition from my childhood.

Every year until I was well into my college years, we went to Crown Center at Christmas to see Santa. It was one of those traditions that I didn't appreciate as a child but long to carry on with my family.

I rehearsed what I was going to say over and over in my head, grabbed a picture of my Addalyn, and went to see Santa at Crown Center. I handed the picture to the man dressed in the red suit and asked him if he would take a photo with my daughter on what should have been her first Christmas. He smiled at me as I tried not to cry and told me, "Christmas is about what is in the heart and you my dear will be blessed." A few tears rolled down my cheeks.  I took my picture of Addalyn back and went to pay for her photo with Santa. The nice man at the checkout said that Santa paid for the photo and wished me a Merry Christmas. And the tears started rolling. As I was walking out Santa got out of his chair, came up to me, gave me a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. "You are going to be okay my dear," he said and then he asked if he could print one of the photos for himself so that he too could remember my Addalyn this Christmas season.  My heart was over joyed. He didn't look at me strange when I asked him to take a photo with my picture of Addalyn, paid for the printing of her photo, offered me encouragement, and then asked if he too could reflect upon my Addalyn's memory this holiday season. 

My heart overflows. 

To the moon and back my beloved Addalyn.