Saturday, July 12, 2014

It's been a long time.

I feel bad that I didn't post about her birthday.  I haven't posted much at all anywhere lately.  My life feels like it keeps getting away from me.

But we had a birthday celebration.  Cora's butterflies arrived and hatched early, so we released them on April 26th instead.

and then we played at the park for a bit.

Happily, we had also ordered baby ladybugs, and so had them to release on Cora's actual birthday

And had ladybug cupcakes

And Erin decided that Cora would like IHOP for dinner, and I think we decided to make it a tradition for her birthday.

Saturday, November 9, 2013

When things whisper to me....

Shortly after Cora died, I felt like everything I saw around me symbolized her.  We were very very poor, and I could imagine myself up to my ears in pictures in figurines if I bought every one.  So I made a promise to myself, that I would buy things when, and only when, something really and truly whispered to me.  So, I have a few things.  It just so happens I find more things around Christmas, and maybe that's because it's such a sentimental time.  I had managed to get something for her every Christmas until last year.  I just didn't see anything that spoke to me.  And I accepted that.  If limiting myself from buying too many things is okay, I need to accept the opposite as well.

But when it was happening again this year, it did upset me.  I have an ornament for everyone in our family already.  I love walking through the Christmas stuff, and I love decorating, but it just made me so sad.  Maybe because we're yet another house further removed, and I'm just not feeling her here as much yet (we haven't gotten her shelf up yet, I only located the shelf last night).  I guess I needed that connection or something.

So I was just wandering at Target, when I saw this ornament.  A single, ceramic white feather.  It was almost electric, my fingers went tingly.  One of my original baby loss mother friends (I can't for the life of me remember who), mentioned that when she saw lone feathers floating around it made her think of her baby.  It felt like her telling me she was still there, and I really needed that.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013


Yep, we're moving.  Quite unexpectedly.  Matt got an amazing transfer offer, and it's the kind of thing that would be a great opportunity and we had no real reason to stay where we are.

So right now, I'm in the process of getting the house ready to sell.  Part of that is "de-personalizing."  Apparently it's better not to have your personal family pictures up on the walls, so the prospective buyers can picture themselves there, rather than just seeing you.

So tonight I'm packing Cora's shelf.  I hate putting it away.  The other pictures...well...I have the rest of my family HERE every day to look at, so that's not really a big deal.

But it's so sad to me.  Her whole life fits into one small box.

There's the added emotion of moving further away again.  It's not just time that separates us, it'll be another few hundred miles as well, and it's amazing how much that hurts.

Thursday, May 2, 2013

Happy 7th birthday Cora

Seven years ago today I held a perfect redheaded angel in my arms. For just a few moments the grief slipped away as I was surrounded by and in awe of her. I didn't get to hold her in my arms for long, but separation will never change that she was, is and forever will be mine, because families are forever. 

I love you sweet Cora Rei. Thank you for all the gifts you have given me, and the person your presence has helped me become. I hope you are celebrating your beautiful day will all the other angels in heaven who love you. Thank you for the friendship of their mothers. You have more impact than I could ever have imagined.

We went out for her birthday dinner yesterday

And today we had her cupcakes.  Blackberry, because she told me to.  I passed by them in the store yesterday and a little voice in the back of my head said "Ooooh, put THOSE in the cupcakes!!"

It snowed yesterday and was still chilly today, so we didn't get to release the butterflies.  I'm really hoping some are still alive to release tomorrow.

Tuesday, April 30, 2013

I hate this day.

April 30th, the last day Cora was alive.  As much as I have come to terms with some things, it's still hard.  I STILL have the "if only I'd done this," and "I should have done that," thoughts that pop into my head, forever haunting me.

In the end, no matter what, she's not here.  She's not here.  And that hurts more than anything I could ever express.

I'm supposed to be planning a birthday party.  Instead I'll make cupcakes and release butterflies.  As much as I love that tradition, it's just not the same.


Saturday, April 27, 2013

"Hopefully" (pregnancy mentioned)

So, I have become pregnant again.  It wasn't planned, but I'm excited...most of the time.  When I'm not terrified.

I have such a hard time talking about pregnancy with people.  I'll only be 6 weeks on Monday, but since I get so very sick, I don't even try to keep it a secret.  And of course, pregnancy means people want to talk about babies.

They don't understand what torture that is for me.

They don't understand that every plan of after birth is prefaced by a "Hopefully."

Hopefully, when the baby gets here....

I'll be nursing this baby. Hopefully. 

Erin's going to love helping with the baby. Hopefully. If all goes well.  If my baby doesn't die sometime between now and then.

Sometimes it accidentally slips out, and I get one of two reactions: That terrible pity that I hate, because it seems they think I've become some horrible, wounded, terrifying creature that is disfigured beyond recognition.  Or I get brushed off because I'm being morbid.  I'm worrying too much.  I'm "stuck" in my grief and I need therapy at best, medication at worst.

When those are extremes versions of what I really am.  I have been wounded, and sometimes the scars are visible.  But I'm still me.  I'm still breathing.  I'm still a beautiful being of worth.  I am not defined by my loss.  But I am also still grieving.  And grief is not a disease.  It is not something that one "gets over" in a specified amount of time.  It doesn't mean I am not capable of feeling joy.

I am just different than I was.  Cora's death was my chrysalis.  I'm not sure when it happened, but I have emerged into a beautiful butterfly.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Other women's babies

It's interesting how a picture can take you right back to the emotion of the moment it was taken in.  I was looking at old pictures a while back, trying to find pictures of me and my youngest sister (long story).  And I came across some pictures of me after Cora was born, but before I became pregnant with Erin, holding other people's babies.

I've shared this one before
It was taken 5 days after my best friend had her baby that she had been pregnant with me with.

Later came the blessing of that same sweet baby.

And then the baby of another friend I had been pregnant with, just another month later

The pictures totally took me back.  Back to how heartwrenching it was, how unfair it was, that I had given birth first but didn't have a baby of my own to hold.  To the anger that all the joy I had had at holding others' squishy babies was gone, replaced by sadness and grief.  I love those little girls, I truly do.  But at that point in time, I only saw not-Cora.

But at the same time, I'm surprised at my own bravery. It took a lot of courage.  I didn't think it was all that impressive at the time, but looking back on it...I'm rather proud of myself.