One year.  One year has passed since we first had any glimpse that the year and our life would be much different than planned.  It was Sunday night, Dec 19th, 2010.  “You need to go see your doctor, soon.”  I will never forget that. 

Tonight I worked my twelve-hour shift into the early morning.  As I headed out the door, I said goodbye and wished a merry Christmas to my co-workers.  Just before I left one of the doctors with a beard asks, “What do you want for Christmas?” all Santa Clause-like.  I immediately stated, “a healthy baby”, while in my head thinking “duh”!  I exited the building and for whatever reason started weeping. 

Then entered, the Bargaining Stage.  I found myself in the cold fog crying and praying to God to please let my baby live!  I realized exactly what was happening.  I know my Maggie is dead.  Not coming back.  But here I found myself bargaining, not for her life, but another inside me.  I just kept thinking, “what can I do God so that you will allow this one to live, I’ll do anything, please!”  Oh that pesky grieving process, caught me again.  I know this number three inside me has a strong heart beat, faster than Maggie’s ever was, and moves and squirms far more than Magster ever did on screen. But…God please let this one live!!! I will do anything!

Cool applicable bible verse inserted here.  I’m too tired now to search some out.  I think on these words often though from Psalms, “I lift my eyes to the hills, where does my help come from? My help comes from the Lord…” Thank you for your help Lord, when I am weak, bargaining, tired.

Thank you to everyone who lit a candle for my family and daughter.  You made the remembrance bearable and really quite special.  I felt very cared about by the huge response.  Montana Christmas vacation starts tomorrow.  Eek!  I’m full of excited today.  Prayers are appreciated, I love you all.  Nighty night.

I know I haven’t written in awhile, but my brain just hasn’t made the words to write very clear.

I’ve had a really good couple of weeks. I’d like to take the words “time heals” and rough ‘em up a bit, but it’s true, and it’s not true.  At some point in the last few weeks I’ve made it past the point where my dead baby is not the only thing on my mind.  I do not feel the need for Maggie to be in all of my conversations, and no longer hope intensely that everyone, even at checkouts of stores the clerks will for some crazy reason bring up my personal grief and baby loss. Win.  I’ve realized this time could not be forced, but instead had to happen on it’s own.  Not to say that my baby and grief don’t occupy my mind anymore, they do, I’m just better at merging the real world and my own now, I guess.

That being said, Thanksgiving was rough. I’ve never been really into Holidays, where the presents had to be opened Christmas morning, and for Thanksgiving I usually just hope that the whole family can all be together at some point. When I woke up for Thanksgiving day this year I was a mess. I cried all morning and into the afternoon. The pain and sadness - it all consumed me completely. I didn’t go serve a meal to the less fortunate as I have the last few years. I felt selfish, but couldn’t bring myself to go. I visited Maggie’s grave and cried there, harder I think than I ever have.  I miss her. I was invited to join in on several meals but just wanted to be alone with my grief.  Then I went to work for twelve hours as best I could.

I say this to be honest, not to get sympathy.  It was hard.  I guess I also write this so readers may be mindful of people during the holidays that are missing someone special.

Christmas time I’ve realized is going to be really difficult. I knew it would be, but now I know how I may be overwhelmed.  I get to spend a whole week with my husband’s family in a beautiful place enjoying each others wittiness and loving spirits. But I am also very aware that there will be a new nephew of mine there - born less than two weeks before Maggie - who I really want to know, but I will watch take in all his “firsts” of Christmas while I take in all the “firsts” without my baby.  I ask for prayers over this. I want to be loving, caring and respectful to my family and still somehow be able to grieve my sadness and loss. I cry just thinking about it.

So Sunday is my birthday!  I can’t help but wonder what Maggie might have pointed to for her Daddy to buy me. Sheesh.

For the last 15 years The Compassionate Friends has organized candle-lighting services which are now happening worldwide for bereaved families of children of any age. Several countries and hundreds of US cities light candles the second Sunday of December at 7 p.m. local time.  It creates a virtual wave of light as time zone to time zone children are being remembered.  Maggie will be included in our local program and slide show.  Almost makes me nervous somehow!  

This year’s second Sunday is also my birthday! I am happy to share my day remembering her. What I would love for my birthday is for anyone with a memory or note about my daughter to send messages here in her remembrance.  Join me at 7 p.m. in letting her light shine and light a candle at home for one hour. I realize most people never got to meet her, but I do believe that her reach was far.

If anyone is interested in finding a local candle-lighting service The Compassionate Friends website goes state by state with cities hosting services. There are also services organized by some hospitals and small towns called Love Light Tree.  I did not find a common website of listed cities.

I have been thinking a lot lately about expectations.   Most of us assume great things will happen along our lifespan.  We grow up, graduate high school, then college, get married, careers begin, babies are made and parents we become.  We have labeled our lives with certain expectations to arrive on our timeline without much thought for curves in the road. 

Our society is not one to shed light on misfortune.  We are proud, tending to share only the good news.  Now when I say the word, share, I mean that we get would get involved, rejoicing with those who rejoice, mourning with those who mourn, bearing each others  burdens, kind of sharing.  We expect mostly for others to think well of us and to forget the not so good things that show up in life.  The expectations are there that we are succeeding in life, we are proud, and good almost always.

What expectations do you have for your life? What happens when your expectations are not met?  What is your reaction?

 I relate mostly to the expectations of motherhood.  I expected that when I decided it was time to stop birth control and get pregnant that it would happen.  I never even thought of the possibility of infertility and the years some couples tread through to become pregnant.  I expected every appointment to be happy and exciting and take home amazing little images of healthy growing babies.  I never thought I would be in line with statistics that one in five women will miscarry their babies.  I expected to make it half way in pregnancy for the very special gender ultrasound and leave with dreams and exciting fantasies of princesses or cars and trucks.  I never saw it coming that babies in the belly could sit on the fence of life or death.  I expected to fill in my baby book with an amazing birth story and all the firsts that come in year number one.  I never expected the fear surrounding birth or the sadness in burying my baby. 

Isn’t it interesting that we term pregnant women to be “expecting” parents? I hope that someday in a pregnancy  I can feel like an “expecting” mother.  For today, I am pregnant, 8 weeks, and desperately wishing for the expectations of a first pregnancy and baby to take home.  I am happy, excited, prayerful, but not expecting.

Surprise! We are due June 28, 2012

“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.  Then you will call on me and come and pray to me, and I will listen to you. You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart. I will be found by you,” declares the Lord, “and will bring you back from captivity.” Jeremiah 29:11-14

I desperately want to feel normal these days. Most of the time I walk around and imagine people see me with a black cloud hovering just above me.  Warning, beware, uncomfortable. 
But this last week was as close to feeling normal as I've been in awhile. I spent two days with family who has also experienced traumatic loss.  We got to swap photos, tell our birthing stories, and flow our children in and out of conversation. It was great. I didn't have to worry if I spoke too much about my girl, I was understood by someone in person. Sigh of relief.
I'm working on me in some ways now.  I just sent an email to a prayer partner today and described a lot of what I've been feeling and praying for. I'll share that here also...


Maggie in the hospital has been the best and worst days of my life.  Actually, the worst has probably come afterward.  It's crazy how much support was so apparent in the thick of it all and then people move on.  And I can't.  How can I? I've done the best I can to find balance between her and the world that has moved on, but this is hardest thing yet. I would imagine someone who has takes home a child, their child is a great part of the conversations, pictures are shared and their child is asked about.  But now I've had the child and feel like I am missing these things even though these things are my desire.  I know I can share openly, I just haven't met the balance yet of feeling like all involved are comfortable with it.  I describe it best that it seems I have a black cloud that hovers above me, and that's how I'm viewed.  Probably not actually, but it's what I imagine.  How much can someone handle before they are overwhelmed or don't want to talk or spend time with me again?  It's probably in my head mostly, but that's what I perceive. That is one of my greatest struggles now. I want to feel like I have more to contribute than a sad face and sad story.  Might be a little while yet. 
My other greatest struggle is friends.  I have never have many close friends. My husband has a couple of guy friends that started showing up at the house once a week to spend time with him.  They knew he needed that and did it without being asked. They just said, we are coming over to grill dinner with you and have been coming every week now.  They talk about sports, their jobs, music, and when my husband needs to talk about Maggie, they listen.  He needs that. I am jealous.  I have had plenty of people tell me "when you're ready call me".  I had been in no position to call.  I've wanted someone to show up, and be present, and know I'm cared about like he has been.  
So I've been praying for friends.  I've just recently felt up to getting out more and being social.  I really love my days at home alone, but it's nice now and then to have someone check in on you in person.  So I've been feeling pretty down about that. I've been getting cards in the mail every couple of weeks from people from a distance, but local is where I need more I guess. Finally I've realized that more has to come from my end of things.  So I've put calls out this week and booked lunch dates.  And I'm praying for friends.  I desire genuine friends who want to spend time with me, enjoy my company, have a compassionate heart and understanding for my loss and the needs that follow. I need that.
Maybe you've heard this from me before.  Sorry.  It's seems sad reading through these words I just wrote.  But that's my life these days, sad.  I desire normalcy.
 I spent much of the day today with a work friend. I felt normal today, and it feels good. I got to laugh. I'm making friends.

I needed people to know who read this that not every day is a bad day.  Everyday is difficult in that I swing from emotion to emotion, but at the end of the day I can rest and reflect on the good.  Yesterday was a good day. I spent time writing my blog, which meant I got to reflect and think of my girl and her impact on me now. I cry through that process but when it's done I feel good.  It's good.  I walked my pups and then ran a couple miles for the first time in weeks. It felt great. I ended the evening spending time with my man and the World Series game 5 win for the Rangers.  I also was able to read comments and messages from readers which always gives me an ounce of healing. Today...I hope for a good day. Today is 5 month to the day that my girl has been taken from me  Yeah, all I can do is hope for a good day.

I have so many thought going around in my head, it’s been difficult to organize and write it down.  Today will jump around some just like my thoughts all day. 

Last weekend I spent time with my sister, brothers, sisters-in-law, bro-in-law and daddy.  It was soooo good.  My family understands me.  I didn’t have to wonder as much if I spoke of Maggie too often or anything that relates.  I could weave her in and out of conversation freely.  What a gift.  I know they have lost a niece and granddaughter.  They love her and miss her too.  Thanks family.

I love when I get to brag on my neighborhood. I came home from work Saturday night and noticed both sides of the street full of cars. This is far from unusual in my neighborhood.  Every weekend brings together large groups of people to the neighborhood to watch sports, eat and drink and be with each other. This weekend was no exception. I walked next door to find a neighbor quite intoxicated and as always very welcoming. We have a tragedy happening in our neighborhood, one in our family is found to be very sick and the outcome appearing for now to be grim. And boy, can I ever see the hurt. Through the jokes, laughter, conversation, drinking, there is hurting people. I know way too much about losing life these days.  I want to take away my neighbors pain and sadness, but I can't.  So I take a shot with them, hug them, talk with them, love them, hurt with them. I’ve learned through my experience that the best thing I can do is be present. I need to listen unendingly and pray for comfort.  I love my neighbors and want more than anything for me to be a vessel of Jesus’ love.  I will mourn with those who mourn.

Last night I lay in bed with my guy in the dark and did what we do every couple of weeks, check on each other’s “healing”. We talk about how we think we are doing and then give each other our perspective on the other.  My husband stated he has watched me seek out books, blogs, groups, anything to try and propel me forward and is proud of me. He feels he has plunged himself into television, music shows and time with certain friends trying to escape. I have worked really hard to face all that the darn grieving process brings to the table but had to confess that books and blogs have been my escape right back into the thick of things. I feel most comfortable lost in the stories and similar life views in trying to do the same thing as me, move forward without leaving my baby behind and trying to figure out how some people “get it” while others don’t at all. It takes an average of three years for parents whose children die to meet their balance of living life and having conversations that don’t forget their loss and yet still honor their lost one. Three years! It is easier for me to wrap myself up in grief than to be with others and fight for the balance. Conversation is awkward for others but it’s awkward for me too. I know I am far from where I will be years from now, but being in the early stages, my days really stink. I have never felt so isolated. I have spent my life with lots and lots of friends, you know the friends I work with, the friends I see in church. But I have only one really close friend besides my husband that I feel really understands me where I am and the path I will be on for my lifetime. This is a lonely path. I have to work really hard at not being angry in this loneliness. I haven’t been at church for the last three weeks for work and being out of town, but I wonder if anyone notices. I haven’t been to my care group circle of friends for many weeks, am I missed there? Does anyone wonder if I’m okay? Isolating. I am given invites on occasion, some I accept some I don’t.  I just need to know I’m not forgotten.

So what did we conclude this week for our healing? My guy needs to get away, stop the noise, turn off the television and spends some time thinking, processing, and praying alone. I’m still not sure where I stand. I am doing well in allowing myself to acknowledge my feelings, but I have a long way to go to reach my balance. I need to feel like I matter and have not been forgotten by people around me. I want to feel loved and included, and most of all I want to feel that the love and inclusion is genuine. I will be praying for this.

Lastly today, I want to ask, what do you think about the phrase “everything happens for a reason”? I have been pondering this for days. People mean well when they say this, but honestly I don’t think it is generally received well. What are your thoughts?

There was a day this week that a critical patient came into the emergency
department where I work. This person did not survive the physical insult to
their heart.  Door closed and curtain drawn, it was family time to say
goodbye to their loved one.

 Once family left security came through in a scramble, "shut the doors to your
patients rooms!". In my walkie ear piece I hear "keep visitors and patients in
the rooms, we are moving the body".

 Hours later another critical patient passed and the same scenario
repeated.

 Death.  It happens. We are human and we will all die.  Why is there
this need to shield each other from it, or even viewing it from a distance? I
get that the hospital needs those being treated to feel confident in their care,
but even after the best care possible, bodies fail.

 "Precious in the sight of the Lord is the death of his faithful servants"
Psalm 116:15  I take great comfort in knowing that though people are
shuffled away and hidden behind closed doors,  the Lord will celebrate when
I die and greet me with open arms!

 For some time I have wanted to make a death calendar.  What? You may
celebrate birthdays, but I now wish to celebrate death days.  It means a
great deal to have someone remember my loss.  I want to remember your
losses.  I purchased a pocket calendar for $2 at Walmart this week.  I
will have my baby name written down, my miscarriage, and my grandmothers babies
Bonnie and Wendall, cousin Susan and others dear to me.  Message me your
names and dates and ages, and your precious one will be added to my
calendar.  If you include an address I will try and send cards, but mostly,
I want to remember with you and hurt with you and celebrate with you. I am
especially interested in babes and miscarriages, but please include any loss you
wish or someone else who needs a loved one to be remembered.

 Loving Maggie from a distance today.

I have been going to a moms group that meets every week.  I don't know why I go. 
I want to be a mommy, I have been a mom, 26 days exactly, but I don't feel like I am a mom now. Some say, "Of course you are a mom, once a mom always a mom".  Well, have
your only child die off and see how you feel then.  This week we discussed
having a thankful heart.  
 
I shared with my group that during Maggie's birth, death, and burial  we
somehow made in through able to thank God for our blessings.  I had a scary
pregnancy yet still could take in the joys of a growing child in
my belly, even if the growing was sub par. A song that was our anchor during the
sea of hurt  and pain says "You give and take away, but my heart will
choose to say, Lord blessed be your name".  I don't know how, but me and my
husband have been able to keep our heads above the water and sing these words
and believe what we are singing.  Someone in the group immediately said
"with prayers".  Probably.  
 
I've been thinking the rest of this week about in the Bible in Mark 10:15
Jesus says, "anyone who will not receive the kingdom of God like a child will
never enter it".  Think about how children pray.  Simple, with a
thankful heart.  Here is my prayer of thanks.
 
thank You for my patient, understanding, loving husband
thank You for my mommy, daddy, brothers and sister
for rain
green grass
my job that I love and the people I work with
licorice
my phone
airplanes and pilots
baby blanket I sleep with every night
my car
my pretty hair color and cut
neclace with Maggie's name engraved
generosity of friends and family, some I've never met
church
music and playlists
internet
deadbabymama blogs
my pups, Eddie and Juno
Jesus
cards in the mail
getting the mail
pretty flowers on my table that match the flowers at Maggies grave
frozen pizzas and delivery
clean sheets

A couple of weeks ago two of my friends visited Maggie at the cemetary with me, one of them brought her two daughters.  Before we left the older girl was asked to say a prayer for Maggie.  This is how it started.  "Dear God, thank You for Maggie, thank you for the pretty flowers..."  The younger girl, barely walking age was prompted to say, "Goodbye, Maggie, we love you..."  Such a great moment for me.  Two little girls who love othes so easily, and love my Maggie. 

Last night I spent over an hour touring the inside of a home just a half a mile from the one I own.  Beautiful yard on a greater than one acre plot with plenty of trees that are viewable through many windows inside the house, which is adorable.  Basically, this is as close to my dream home and location I may ever get.  I know this house is just out of my grasp, but I can't help but hope and dream that it could be my future.  Now, I know this dream home won't be mine, yet I still can't shake it from my mind.  I spent that entire hour and still now wonder what that home would look like with my things in it.  Which room would work well for a nursery? What color rug could I get for my children to play safely on over the concrete flooring?  Would my counter height table set look right in the kitchen and dining area?  I wonder if I could keep the window treatments?

My life is different then it used to be.  I love my job, the Texas heat is meant for me, I have a selfless husband who loves me more than I understand, and am surrounded by church family and friends who only want the best for me and wait patiently to be whatever I need them to be when I am ready.  Yet, I still long for more.  Something is missing.  (might be my baby, just one theory tho)

I grew up very independent and worked hard for what I wanted and needed.  I am still that way. Working hard gets results.  I did not grow up with my emotions on my sleeve.  I was "strong" and kept all that mushy stuff inside.  My marriage has grown this part of me and I am thankful.  I like control of my environment and emotions and had thought if I worked hard and do things right, no harm comes my way, and I have control. 

Then Maggie died.

 I have no control. Control has been completely stripped from me.  I can buy clothes to make me happy for a few hours.  Closet full, tags removed, then...still no Maggie.  If I move to a new house, decorate and set up a new fantastic nursery...there is still no Maggie, and no growth to my family yet.  

I really don't want to have control anymore.  I know things on Earth are temporary and my desires should only be for God and His will.  This fallen world will fail my expectations over and over again.  I know I have to give in and be patient for God to work.  But boy, I really like my new dream house, and shopping and oh, maybe a baby.  Can't I control just a few things?