Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Tonight my candle with be lit for my daughter, Payton and all of the other precious babies gone too soon.

Child Loss Awareness License Plate

Thanks to the diligent work of Rowen Tree Foundation, on Thursday May 3rd Colorado Governor John Hickenlooper passed a bill for Child Loss Awareness License Plate. So amazing! Read more here.

27 Months

Twenty-seven months of...

wondering the color her eyes (and hair) would have been 

wondering how bright her smile would have shined  

wondering who she would be today and every day before

wondering what her first word would have been

wondering what her favorite food (or toy) would have been

wondering how different my life would be

wishing I can go back in time and change something, anything so she'd be here

missing her

loving her

longing for the day I will hold her again

Dads' Triggers?

 Like most moms I have many triggers. Dates, events, places, songs, even television shows I subconsciously associate with the death of my daughter and the ensuing pain. Countless times I've been preoccupied with life and suddenly I'm sobbing for no apparent reason. Then it will hit me... this day 2009 I learned I was pregnant, I was sitting in this room when I began having contractions, this was the song sung at church the first Sunday after burying Payton, etc. Some triggers I can predict while others are random but after hearing (or reading) from other moms, I assume it's a normal part of grieving. For moms. I never gave it much thought if dads have their own triggers. Other than the hospital we walked away from empty handed I didn't think Dustin had any. He never said otherwise. Well, last night on the way home from Tatum's dance class I called to ask if he wanted to meet us for dinner. There aren't any restaurants in our town (unless you count Subway) and only a handful in the next town over. We were deciding where to eat when Dustin said, "I can't go to 3 Margarita's that was the last place we ate at before Payton died". Wow! I was so surprised to learn he has his own triggers but also I hadn't made that connection. Yet, as soon as I heard the words I was flooded with the memory of being there with my big belly and laughing about eating spicy food to induce labor. I know without a doubt if I walked into the restaurant I could point out the booth we were sitting in, I can picture it so clearly. It saddens me Dustin has kept this to himself for over two years. I wonder does he have any other triggers?

True Words

Taken from a the lovely Franchesca of Small Bird Studios


When You Lose a Baby

You don’t know what to expect.

People surround you. For a couple of weeks. Making sure you are not going to kill yourself, refuse to get out of bed, or start rocking a baby doll like the crazy lady they heard about from a friend.

You get lots of sympathy cards, clearly written and designed to be sent to console a daughter losing her father. Not the other way around.

You get free baby formula in the mail. For months and months and months.

And free baby magazines. And free baby coupons.

You secretly envy every pregnant woman. But not without a tinge of guilt, because you know all too well that she might be one in four- expecting her rainbow child.

It seems like the whole world is expecting a baby.

You have baby stuff around your home. Because you never imagined you wouldn’t need it.

You feel jarred. In the grocery store. At a birthday party. At the dinner table. At Christmas. Driving.

The baby you never knew, but lost changes every part of your life. Every. single. part.

Forever.

You see baby clothes and it brings tears to your eyes.

You get sick and tired of crying. You never knew it was possible to cry this much.

You find yourself angry at God. Angry at yourself. Just angry.

You sware you can feel them kick but they’re gone. They call them phantom kicks. I call them painful, all kinds of painful. But sweet too.

You know, or you have a strong feeling of knowing what your child would have looked like, and been like. You see a child in the store, or on the street. Their hair color, dimples, smile, their personality and suddenly you are reminded of your child. You miss your child even more, if that’s even possible.

Your Babies R’ Us Registry is still active. There is no delete button on their site. The babies r’ us people don’t make a dime on people like us. Why bother right? You have to call them, plead with them to remove your freaking’ registry, because there will be no baby shower. There is an awkward silence. There is sadness. There will be no baby.

You get hospital bills about 3-4 months after you buried your child. You have to pay for the baby you delivered but didn’t bring home.

You find that moment of happiness in life for the first time, but the guilt swallows it up almost immediately.

You remember the size of the casket. The size of the plot. The face of the funeral director. The expression of those that attended the funeral. The feeling of raw pain, like your chest has literally been ripped open.

Somehow you convince yourself that you deserve happiness. Because you really do. But in the happiest, purest moment, there is still that hole that only they were meant to fill.

People compare your pain to their own pain. The loss of their grandmother, husband, their failed marriage, rebellious teenagers. Somehow this comparing leaves you stranded. If they can compare their pain of a situation to the loss of your BABY, they will likely never get it. Babies are not supposed to die. End of story.

You lost a dream. And it almost feels like you imagined their entire existence up. Their name becomes a distant memory on the lips of others.

There is awkwardness when you talk about your child in a crowd. No one knows whether to cry, walk away or pretend you never brought him or her up.

You lose friends. You find new ones.

You can’t believe that women have actually survived this and you never knew about it. Not really, anyway.

You would do anything for another minute with your child.

You cry when others bring up your child, not so much because it hurts but more so because it such a precious and rare gift.

You long for the rewind button, even after many many instances of acceptance.

You want to know what went wrong, and why…

You find a new appreciation for moments in life that make you laugh… you laugh harder and love stronger.

You know that you can die bitter, or die thankful. There is no in between.

You never ever, EVER get over your child. The one you hoped for, prayed for, carried and loved for the weeks and months they were with you.

You learn to live with the pain.

You are better for having known them at all.

Payton's 2nd Angelversary

Payton's day has come and gone but I've yet to post. I could say life has been busy not allowing time. But that isn't entirely true. I haven't posted because I don't know what to write. Leading up to the day my anxiety as well as sadness were strong. I hadn't felt that sad in a long time. I know there were many factors. Not to mention I was extremely worried how dinner would go. Still I was surprised how sad and tearful I was. How fresh the loss felt.

Dustin and I feel we need to celebrate (so to speak) her day just as we celebrate Tatum's birthday. Last year we remembered our daughter by sharing a meal with family and friends. It was a peaceful evening because the family and friends who came understood. Dustin and I felt supported. We wanted again to have dinner, making it a tradition each year. However, we went back and forth on whither to invite others and whom to invite. In the end we decided to keep it intimate by only inviting Payton's grandparents, uncles and aunts.

Before dinner, we released balloons. Tatum wrote on a balloon; "Dear Payton I love you and I really really really miss you. I wish you could come from Heaven to visit, but you can't". Tatum also insistent she have a different colored balloon to send to God.

Next we had an artichoke pecorino flan.

After we enjoyed a delicious four course meal. I am a lucky woman my husband is a great cook.



We began with an argula salad with prosciutto, shaved parmesan,
and candied walnuts in a balsamic reduction.



 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 


The entree was slice steak with brunello sauce served with wilted spinach with currants and pine nuts.



Ending with creme brulee for dessert.

After dinner, Dustin connected the laptop to the tv so we all could watch Payton's slideshow from ABH Bible study. Everyone thanked us for showing it and commented it was beautiful. However, the mood... well the best I can describe was forced. It felt we were forcing our daughter and her memory on others. The evening was uncomfortable, which in a way okay. Death is uncomfortable. I don't know... Maybe it wouldn't have been so uncomfortable if people remembered why we were together and mentioned Payton and there wasn't drama which I'm not going to into.

I understand others don't have the same connect with Payton as Dustin, Tatum or I. In fact, Dustin, Tatum, and I all have different connections with Payton. Yet, they are related to her and if nothing else should try to understand what it would be like to lose a child. Therefore, try to understand how we might feel. But most don't. Simply saying 'I don't know what that is like' is a cop-out. I need to do some soul searching. I need to decide if I'm okay with forcing my daughter on a few family members, or to have a peaceful evening with supportive people, or only the four of us celebrate Payton. I have a year to figure it out. Any thoughts?

Payton Bear

It's here! My Payton Bear is here! This afternoon on my way to run errands I stopped at the mailbox, surprised to receive a package. Once in the car I glanced at the sender's name- Molly Bears. As fast as I could I riped the box open. There it was, the beautiful Payton Bear. For several minutes I sat there clutching the bear. Thank you Molly Bears family for a wonderful gift, and what perfect timing. To learn more about Molly Bears head on over to their site.