after a great deal of thought. a lot of praying. a lot of questioning. reading your comments/opinions. i have decided. i have decided to evolve this space.
on december 14, 2010 i wrote this post. it was the first of many. the start of a journey. the beginning to a treacherous and bumpy, windy and jagged road. the origin of where all things became solidified that my life, our lives, were forever changed. on december 14, 2010 i began to tell the world about my loss, my heart break, my plethora of emotions, the darkness... i proceeded to bare open my heart and soul to the world wide web. i allowed my most weakest and vulnerable of times to be displayed for friends, family, and strangers to take hold of.
and now... over 2 years from this very first post, i make this one.
i've often talked about the ever-changing, the continuously revolving doors of grief. the journey that we travel as baby loss parents is one that is unknown. it is contradictory to what the human life should ever have to experience. it is the ultimate taboo to the human life. i've talked about how much i have changed. how my naiveness has been stripped. how my very being was torn to jagged pieces left in the road to become a prey of nature.
and now as i look over these last two years i've spent on this space. as i peer at the many posts, the months of posts, the weeks of words. i realize that not only have i changed, not only has my grief shifted, but so has this space. it took many of you and your kind comments and words of encouragement that allowed me to realize this.
i think a part of me has been afraid to evolve this space into something else, something more. i felt guilt. guilt that by encouraging a change i would be forgetting where my story truly started. my daughter's life and death do not entirely define me, but they are an intricate and precise piece to who i have become.
each step and breath that is made, each calculated move, each thought clouding my mind, is always tangled up into Savanna. into her life and her death.
as many of you made such valid points, both on chaning the blog and getting a new blog.. i realized that it would be ok to re-align this space. i'm not leaving Savanna behind, our memories of her, our road of grief, or the hard work i've accomplished at this point. rather, i'm taking her along for the ride.
i have evolved. i have changed. i am different. and so is this space.
i hope you'll join me on this ride as it ventures down into unchartered territories. Savanna has so much dictation over our lives I just know there can only be great things ahead.
While Savanna's Wings will always be held near to my heart and I will never forget what that space provided me, it is time to change the face of the space as it is now what need. Savanna's wings will be put to rest, and 'Our Thereafter' will be born.
Savanna will forever and always be entangled into my everyday life. she is and always will be a permaneant part of my very inner being.
so join me on this journey as i share another side of our lives. come along as i continue to grow and grieve, and nurture this space as i just know it is continuously blossoming into something beautiful....
My sweet girl,
I am almost in tears right now. I'm writing you this letter to tell you of all the ways I love you. To tell you that there are many changes happening in the near and far future. As I change this space into something more, just know you will forever and always be a part of it. You are forever the star of the show :) I am still in constant awe that your daddy and I were blessed and chosen to be your parents. thank you for choosing us. I couldn't have asked for a more perfect match. You were made for us as we were made for you.
Just know that with the many changes continuously happening, it all still because of your very existence that we do things in this life. It is for your very memory that we will continue to live each day knowing that we will see you once again.
I didn't really have an agenda when I started writing you, I just knew I had to. Something tugged at my heart and I felt the need to make sure to write you.
I guess, I just want you to know I love you. That although changes may happen, you're never forgotten. That while your daddy and I may be packing your things up and breaking down your room, your sweet and innocent presence will forever remain in that room. That parts of you are in both of us forever. I want you to know you are my reason, you are my because. I love you Bo. More and more everyday.
sending you all my love and big hugs to heaven. momma.
January 12, 2013
January 8, 2013
I'm still alive!
Or at least staying afloat! the holidays have just surpassed it was quite the whirlwind of adventures. So many things have happened since the last time i wrote (October!) I don't think there's enough internet space to catch everyone up.
I guess I could start by telling you about our holidays. There isn't much to tell really. It was another time of year we went with and without. Moving into the third year without Savanna has clearly already proven to me that it never gets easier. Just those all very hard days don't situate themselves all in a row. Rather, they sporadically separate themselves out for you trip upon them like an IED in a desert.
I did manage to reach a breaking point in my grief, at least I think so. The many days of and weeks of therapy seemed to have possibly paid off. For awhile I just felt like going to see Dr. D had turn into a complain and whoa is me session. I had reached that stage of anger. A stage of grief I thought I had climbed over and conquered. But as much as people say you can always go back, you don't ever think you will. Before, when the anger had succomb me, it was just a general angst I would feel. It took the littlest things to cause me to tear out on a rampage, normally J was always the casuality.
But this recent outward aggression and rage was much deeper. For the first time since Savanna had died, I was angry with God. And honestly I'm sure I had been for quite some time. I never wanted to admit it though. So many people had continuously told me how strong I was, and how well I was doing.. it seemed to ultimately hurt me. I felt like I had an expectation to meet. This 'strong' baby loss momma persona's shoes I had to fill. The expectation set by myself and myself only of course. And so I lied. I said all the things I knew sounded healthy and positive. I claimed to have gotten through my days on the strength of the Lord. Stated that all this hope and faith I had in all things. While the whole meanwhile, on the inside, I was curling up into myself. My skin constantly felt wrong. I never felt like I didn't fit right where I was. And in one instant, it snapped. I snapped.
I no longer understood nor cared for His reasons. I resented people who became pregnant or were pregnant. I resented children who were still alive. I hated God. I hated that he took Savanna. And I was enraged at Savanna. Enraged that she would chose to be with God over me. I admitted out loud I resented those that said, you're so strong-she's in a better place - or my favorite yet 'you'll always be a mom.' My instant reaction to that one... SCREW YOU! it's easy for you to say that, you get to go home tonight and tuck your sweet babe into bed tonight. You get to read them a story and get them ready for school.. but me? i have the 'honor' of going to a cemetery. a cold dreary depressing cemetery and drive up a road and around a corner to see my girl. except it's not my girl that sits there atop a field of grass and dirt and rock and weeds. it's a stone. a marble stone with a picture and dates and a name. that's what i get to do.
my anger had seemed to rock me to my core. it took all of my energy, all of my faith, all of my hope. it was stripped from every muscle and fiber of my very being. i was cold and naked in the pouring rain. (metaphorically of course) it took a couple sessions and a very significant church attendance (which is whole other post in its own) that i finally began to steer away from the anger. rather than burying the anger in its own plot in the cemetery of my mind i was able to set it free. sure, i still feel the anger boiling it's darkness to the surface. but in most cases, i can deal with and move on.
my hope and faith have been instilled. still shaky at times, still questionable. but really and truly that anger is something i needed to feel. it is something i needed to say out loud. ever since that week of misery pure anger, i have truly begun to feel as if i have started to heal.
in the weeks following i knew i was ready to finally break down the crib in Savanna's room. in the weeks following i knew it was time to make the room into the future baby B's nursery not just Savanna's room. pieces of her will always remain in that room, but it's time to move forward. and i am ok with that now.
the 'renovation' has not started but once it does i promise to take you on that journey. it is such a large part of this journey. and i know so many of you can relate.
notation: due to several sweet friends reaching out to me I thought it wise to just say that I am ok :) the anger that i'm speaking of in the above few paragraphs transpired months ago. I wanted to give y'all an update and this is where my typing fingers led me. sorry if i've scared any of y'all but i'm ok :)
****
in other news.. i am thinking of starting another blog.. a more bloggy blog. i've thought about possibly changing the face of this blog, keeping it about our grief of course but about so much more. there are so many parts of our lives that have come out of this journey of grief. so many becomings and accomplishments, tasks, and to-do's that have honestly transpired from our grief. although it's not always apparent how Savanna and our grief correlates, i know our everyday life is forever entangled.
i'm not sure how i feel about changing the face of this blog though. so i need your help. your opinions. i write for me and to pereserve the memories i have. but also to help others. if i choose to go a more 'our everyday life' type of blog.. would you like to see a new one unfold? or re-route the path of this one? your opinion and thoughts mean a great deal to me. :)
****
while you ponder this decision here are a few pics from the last few months.
I guess I could start by telling you about our holidays. There isn't much to tell really. It was another time of year we went with and without. Moving into the third year without Savanna has clearly already proven to me that it never gets easier. Just those all very hard days don't situate themselves all in a row. Rather, they sporadically separate themselves out for you trip upon them like an IED in a desert.
I did manage to reach a breaking point in my grief, at least I think so. The many days of and weeks of therapy seemed to have possibly paid off. For awhile I just felt like going to see Dr. D had turn into a complain and whoa is me session. I had reached that stage of anger. A stage of grief I thought I had climbed over and conquered. But as much as people say you can always go back, you don't ever think you will. Before, when the anger had succomb me, it was just a general angst I would feel. It took the littlest things to cause me to tear out on a rampage, normally J was always the casuality.
But this recent outward aggression and rage was much deeper. For the first time since Savanna had died, I was angry with God. And honestly I'm sure I had been for quite some time. I never wanted to admit it though. So many people had continuously told me how strong I was, and how well I was doing.. it seemed to ultimately hurt me. I felt like I had an expectation to meet. This 'strong' baby loss momma persona's shoes I had to fill. The expectation set by myself and myself only of course. And so I lied. I said all the things I knew sounded healthy and positive. I claimed to have gotten through my days on the strength of the Lord. Stated that all this hope and faith I had in all things. While the whole meanwhile, on the inside, I was curling up into myself. My skin constantly felt wrong. I never felt like I didn't fit right where I was. And in one instant, it snapped. I snapped.
I no longer understood nor cared for His reasons. I resented people who became pregnant or were pregnant. I resented children who were still alive. I hated God. I hated that he took Savanna. And I was enraged at Savanna. Enraged that she would chose to be with God over me. I admitted out loud I resented those that said, you're so strong-she's in a better place - or my favorite yet 'you'll always be a mom.' My instant reaction to that one... SCREW YOU! it's easy for you to say that, you get to go home tonight and tuck your sweet babe into bed tonight. You get to read them a story and get them ready for school.. but me? i have the 'honor' of going to a cemetery. a cold dreary depressing cemetery and drive up a road and around a corner to see my girl. except it's not my girl that sits there atop a field of grass and dirt and rock and weeds. it's a stone. a marble stone with a picture and dates and a name. that's what i get to do.
my anger had seemed to rock me to my core. it took all of my energy, all of my faith, all of my hope. it was stripped from every muscle and fiber of my very being. i was cold and naked in the pouring rain. (metaphorically of course) it took a couple sessions and a very significant church attendance (which is whole other post in its own) that i finally began to steer away from the anger. rather than burying the anger in its own plot in the cemetery of my mind i was able to set it free. sure, i still feel the anger boiling it's darkness to the surface. but in most cases, i can deal with and move on.
my hope and faith have been instilled. still shaky at times, still questionable. but really and truly that anger is something i needed to feel. it is something i needed to say out loud. ever since that week of misery pure anger, i have truly begun to feel as if i have started to heal.
in the weeks following i knew i was ready to finally break down the crib in Savanna's room. in the weeks following i knew it was time to make the room into the future baby B's nursery not just Savanna's room. pieces of her will always remain in that room, but it's time to move forward. and i am ok with that now.
the 'renovation' has not started but once it does i promise to take you on that journey. it is such a large part of this journey. and i know so many of you can relate.
notation: due to several sweet friends reaching out to me I thought it wise to just say that I am ok :) the anger that i'm speaking of in the above few paragraphs transpired months ago. I wanted to give y'all an update and this is where my typing fingers led me. sorry if i've scared any of y'all but i'm ok :)
****
in other news.. i am thinking of starting another blog.. a more bloggy blog. i've thought about possibly changing the face of this blog, keeping it about our grief of course but about so much more. there are so many parts of our lives that have come out of this journey of grief. so many becomings and accomplishments, tasks, and to-do's that have honestly transpired from our grief. although it's not always apparent how Savanna and our grief correlates, i know our everyday life is forever entangled.
i'm not sure how i feel about changing the face of this blog though. so i need your help. your opinions. i write for me and to pereserve the memories i have. but also to help others. if i choose to go a more 'our everyday life' type of blog.. would you like to see a new one unfold? or re-route the path of this one? your opinion and thoughts mean a great deal to me. :)
****
while you ponder this decision here are a few pics from the last few months.
 |
| I won the halloween costume contest at work |
 |
| A date night! |
 |
| Happy Halloween! |
 |
| Some wreaths I made! |
 |
| J & Dad |
 |
| Our tree |
 |
| Savanna's tree |
 |
| Our Savanna ornament |
 |
| White Christmas!!!! |
 |
| Good job J! |
October 15, 2012
A word about Acceptance
the leaves begin to turn. the wind blows colder. the temperature begins to drop. drifting smells of fires lit in the fireplace. waves of pumpkin spice and talks of smoked turkey. black friday ads begin to fill my inbox. holiday yule tides and santa lists begin to appear. talks of christmas parties start to spread throughout. thanksgiving day arrangements and menu plans have started to become parts of conversation. ghosts, and ghouls, zombies and pumpkins. candies and treats and costumes! it's my favorite time of year. it always has been. a time to rejoice in all blessings that have been bestowed upon you. a time to hug your friends and tell them how thankful you are. a time to encompass the family that you are so proudly a part of. all things i'm happy to say are my favorites.
but.
at the same time.
it is my most hated time of year.
this time of year also brings back a plague of a moment in our lives when that happiness, those blessings, that thankfulness was stripped from our very being. the one spark that represented all those things left this earth.
as i walk outside i am greeted by the fall air. as i breathe in deeply and feel the wind caress my face, i am reminded of a time. a dark time. a day almost 2 years ago that i never thought i would breathe again. a time when my favorite time of year became the most dreadful.
i am haunted by this time of year, i will admit. it didn't really don on me last year. but this year, it seems to be heading full force like a bull stampeding towards the red cape. i am the red cape. i have no control, i'm endlessly flapping around awaiting my destiny. in less then a month it will be a complete 2 years without our Savanna. in less then a month it will be an entire 730 days without feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest with every inhale and exhale.
it's unimaginable.
it always happens like this ya know?
i reach a point where i think maybe, just maybe i'm learning to accept it. accept that she's gone. accept that she's never coming back. and yet here i am, almost 2 years later and i still hope that when i open my eyes the next morning it will have all been a terrible terrible nightmare. and yet each morning as i rise from my pillow and my feet touch the ground i am bolted back to the reality that she's gone.
seems silly doesn't it?
in all the literature you read there are steps. i am actually studying the grieving process in school right now. there's steps, you reach one then the other sometimes you go back, sometimes you stay stuck, but the ultimate goal is acceptance right? well what if there never is acceptance.
i seem to always brink on the edges of acceptance but never fully engulfing it as my own. i'm beginning to wonder if i ever will.
i'm beginning to wonder if i ever want to.
to accept her death is to accept her only as a memory. i don't want that. i want to keep her alive. as alive as i can. it may only be in my mind. it may piggyback to my heart. but i never want to accept that this is what my life has succombed itself to be.
today i lit 2 candles in honor of Savanna and all others who have lost a precious child. as is it here typing the candlelight is dancing across the white background of the built-in book case. the shadows of the light are casting across my Savanna's face. my heart is hurting. quite literally. not metaphorically. it literally hurts. there is pain. and although i hate the pain. i hate the sharpness. i hate the feeling of tears welling up beneath my eyelids.
i can't bear to let it go either.
to have pain and to feel this hurt, also means that i feel love. i love her so much it hurts. i miss her so much it burns. if i accept that this is our path. if i accept that this our life. if i accept that she is dead.
i have nothing left.
peace? calm? comfort?
no.
without Savanna, without her sweet little body clinging to my leg. without her smile or tired little eyes gazing up at me early in the morn. without her fingers wrapped around mine. without her beating heart next to mine, i will never feel a full a complete peace. my world will never be calm.
i love the fall. i really do. i love what it represents. the changing of the season. the time to pull out the cute winter pea coats. a time for boots! but as i read the words that i typed across this screen... i realize something.. these things that bring me 'joy'
are all so materialistic.
my husband brings me peace, calm and comfort. he is an amazing man and i could not have been more blessed. he is an amazing father. i only hope he knows that while i feel incredibly broken at most times anymore, he somehow makes me feel whole. missing pieces and all.
so, i guess, for now. i will accept that this is my life now. i will accept that this is the journey we must falter. this is the me that has arose from the ashes of losing my daughter.
i love the fall.
i hate the fall.
all at the same time.
but.
at the same time.
it is my most hated time of year.
this time of year also brings back a plague of a moment in our lives when that happiness, those blessings, that thankfulness was stripped from our very being. the one spark that represented all those things left this earth.
as i walk outside i am greeted by the fall air. as i breathe in deeply and feel the wind caress my face, i am reminded of a time. a dark time. a day almost 2 years ago that i never thought i would breathe again. a time when my favorite time of year became the most dreadful.
i am haunted by this time of year, i will admit. it didn't really don on me last year. but this year, it seems to be heading full force like a bull stampeding towards the red cape. i am the red cape. i have no control, i'm endlessly flapping around awaiting my destiny. in less then a month it will be a complete 2 years without our Savanna. in less then a month it will be an entire 730 days without feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest with every inhale and exhale.
it's unimaginable.
it always happens like this ya know?
i reach a point where i think maybe, just maybe i'm learning to accept it. accept that she's gone. accept that she's never coming back. and yet here i am, almost 2 years later and i still hope that when i open my eyes the next morning it will have all been a terrible terrible nightmare. and yet each morning as i rise from my pillow and my feet touch the ground i am bolted back to the reality that she's gone.
seems silly doesn't it?
in all the literature you read there are steps. i am actually studying the grieving process in school right now. there's steps, you reach one then the other sometimes you go back, sometimes you stay stuck, but the ultimate goal is acceptance right? well what if there never is acceptance.
i seem to always brink on the edges of acceptance but never fully engulfing it as my own. i'm beginning to wonder if i ever will.
i'm beginning to wonder if i ever want to.
to accept her death is to accept her only as a memory. i don't want that. i want to keep her alive. as alive as i can. it may only be in my mind. it may piggyback to my heart. but i never want to accept that this is what my life has succombed itself to be.
i can't bear to let it go either.
to have pain and to feel this hurt, also means that i feel love. i love her so much it hurts. i miss her so much it burns. if i accept that this is our path. if i accept that this our life. if i accept that she is dead.
i have nothing left.
peace? calm? comfort?
no.
without Savanna, without her sweet little body clinging to my leg. without her smile or tired little eyes gazing up at me early in the morn. without her fingers wrapped around mine. without her beating heart next to mine, i will never feel a full a complete peace. my world will never be calm.
i love the fall. i really do. i love what it represents. the changing of the season. the time to pull out the cute winter pea coats. a time for boots! but as i read the words that i typed across this screen... i realize something.. these things that bring me 'joy'
are all so materialistic.
my husband brings me peace, calm and comfort. he is an amazing man and i could not have been more blessed. he is an amazing father. i only hope he knows that while i feel incredibly broken at most times anymore, he somehow makes me feel whole. missing pieces and all.
so, i guess, for now. i will accept that this is my life now. i will accept that this is the journey we must falter. this is the me that has arose from the ashes of losing my daughter.
i love the fall.
i hate the fall.
all at the same time.
August 13, 2012
Evolved
I think I've said this several times before.. grief -- it evolves. it changes. you change.
there's a constant learning curve and findings. always new realizations. sometimes there's backtracking and still waters.. but each day it brings something new. that something new is not always welcome, but sometimes it is.
in my journey of loss and grief i have become this new person. this new being. i have learned so many great and not so great things about myself. my eyes have been opened, my heart has grown, and my ears have listened and heard more in these last 21 months then i think in my entire life.
why do i bring this up?
this place.. this space has always and solely been for Savanna. it's been my keepsake, my personal diary into this world of loss. my dealings and journeys through muddy waters and high tides. but now, my grief has shaped way into something more.
that's not to say that i don't still think of her. grieve her. miss her. yearn for her. but i have found that it comes to me without great effort. does that make sense? in the beginning, all i thought about was her. all i breathed and talked about was her. i would feel extreme guilt and emptiness when there were moments of realization that i didn't have thoughts of her.
but as days grew on, and time surpassed us, i realized it was a naturally occurring circumstance. i will admit she is not always the first thing i think about when i wake up, although she is always the last thing i think about.
i no longer force myself to remember her. i know her life, her very being is and always will be locked away into the pieces of my mind and heart. i will always carry her with me.
i think that's why maybe i don't write quite as frequently. what can i say that i haven't already said? what life-defining moment can i scrutinize and pick apart this time that i haven't already?
i've had to make choices that no parent, no mother should ever have to make. i've had to witness scenes that should never become a parents reality. i've had to watch the lasting whispers of life escape my sweet girls body. i've had to say goodbye.
at the end of the day, the piece that always has remained is that i miss her. and i love her. so completely and selflessly.
i still find my mind wandering into the distance of a dream--of a life still filled with her smiles and laughter.
this last week we went to visit some friends and their middle daughter asked me how old Savanna would be. I had to really think about it.. i knew she would be over 2 years old obviously.. but i didn't know what exactly the 'months' she would have been... 28 months though.. a 28 month old walks and says words. eats real people food and understands your words. and it just made me sad in that moment. imagining her running around with our dear friends girls.. what a troop they would be!
but i also realized in that same moment that it was OK that i didn't know the 'exact' month. for as long as i can remember i have consistently set an expectation on myself.. and in my grief it was no different. i expected myself to just pick up and move on.. and something happens that will always knock me back into reality.
i guess what i'm getting at is that while i have found this great joy in writing, it's purpose has changed. i have changed. this space is changing. so many choices i make anymore has it's roots set into my grief or into her memory. anything i do in any given day is somehow always linked back to her. what is it they call that? 6 degrees of separation? she is always with me in some way shape or form..
i don't know if i'm saying i am going to continue writing in this space or not. i want to. i really do. but half the time i stare at the screen and don't know what to type without seeming repetitive.
is this part of my ever evolving grief also? my chosen ways to cope and deal are evolving? perhaps.
so just bare with me as i try to figure it out. as i attempt to figure out how these pieces fit together.
i've never been good with change.. it makes me uncomfortable.. but i know it's all for good reason. there's always a light, always a silver lining.. even in the darkest moments. and i am a witness to that.
there's a constant learning curve and findings. always new realizations. sometimes there's backtracking and still waters.. but each day it brings something new. that something new is not always welcome, but sometimes it is.
in my journey of loss and grief i have become this new person. this new being. i have learned so many great and not so great things about myself. my eyes have been opened, my heart has grown, and my ears have listened and heard more in these last 21 months then i think in my entire life.
why do i bring this up?
this place.. this space has always and solely been for Savanna. it's been my keepsake, my personal diary into this world of loss. my dealings and journeys through muddy waters and high tides. but now, my grief has shaped way into something more.
that's not to say that i don't still think of her. grieve her. miss her. yearn for her. but i have found that it comes to me without great effort. does that make sense? in the beginning, all i thought about was her. all i breathed and talked about was her. i would feel extreme guilt and emptiness when there were moments of realization that i didn't have thoughts of her.
but as days grew on, and time surpassed us, i realized it was a naturally occurring circumstance. i will admit she is not always the first thing i think about when i wake up, although she is always the last thing i think about.
i no longer force myself to remember her. i know her life, her very being is and always will be locked away into the pieces of my mind and heart. i will always carry her with me.
i think that's why maybe i don't write quite as frequently. what can i say that i haven't already said? what life-defining moment can i scrutinize and pick apart this time that i haven't already?
i've had to make choices that no parent, no mother should ever have to make. i've had to witness scenes that should never become a parents reality. i've had to watch the lasting whispers of life escape my sweet girls body. i've had to say goodbye.
at the end of the day, the piece that always has remained is that i miss her. and i love her. so completely and selflessly.
i still find my mind wandering into the distance of a dream--of a life still filled with her smiles and laughter.
this last week we went to visit some friends and their middle daughter asked me how old Savanna would be. I had to really think about it.. i knew she would be over 2 years old obviously.. but i didn't know what exactly the 'months' she would have been... 28 months though.. a 28 month old walks and says words. eats real people food and understands your words. and it just made me sad in that moment. imagining her running around with our dear friends girls.. what a troop they would be!
but i also realized in that same moment that it was OK that i didn't know the 'exact' month. for as long as i can remember i have consistently set an expectation on myself.. and in my grief it was no different. i expected myself to just pick up and move on.. and something happens that will always knock me back into reality.
i guess what i'm getting at is that while i have found this great joy in writing, it's purpose has changed. i have changed. this space is changing. so many choices i make anymore has it's roots set into my grief or into her memory. anything i do in any given day is somehow always linked back to her. what is it they call that? 6 degrees of separation? she is always with me in some way shape or form..
i don't know if i'm saying i am going to continue writing in this space or not. i want to. i really do. but half the time i stare at the screen and don't know what to type without seeming repetitive.
is this part of my ever evolving grief also? my chosen ways to cope and deal are evolving? perhaps.
so just bare with me as i try to figure it out. as i attempt to figure out how these pieces fit together.
i've never been good with change.. it makes me uncomfortable.. but i know it's all for good reason. there's always a light, always a silver lining.. even in the darkest moments. and i am a witness to that.
July 12, 2012
good things do happen to good people.. sometimes
After losing Savanna, I have learned a tremendous amount of life lessons.
I've learned that I can do hard things.
I have learned to let things go.
i have learned that with hard work and faith you can do anything you set your mind to.
i have learned that it is not time that heals all wounds, it is what you do in that time to heal.
i have learned when to ask for help.
asking for help is not a sign of weakness, not asking for help when it is needed is.
i have learned to be slower to judge and eager to listen.
listen to all the words and the unspoken words.
i have learned to love with everything and more.
i have learned to take a picture and capture a snapshot of a memory.
i have learned a hidden love of writing i never knew existed.
i have found that communication is a key to any successful marriage.
i have learned to let myself cry.
i have learned it is ok to cry.
it is ok to be angry.
it is ok to feel guilty
i have learned that grief evolves. never goes away. but is always changing.
mostly i have learned, that good things can happen to good people.
i still sometimes feel as if i am being punished, that i must have done something terrible and awful to have lived through the death of my daughter. but i have realized that in that there was something positive to be pulled from that daunting tragedy. maybe that statement seems weird to you. but in her death, everything that surrounds it is completely and utterly negative. it is dark and dreary. to not find anything of positivity of light in it is to say her life meant nothing. at least that's what i have come to believe. i was always a glass half full kinda girl until the day Savanna took her last breath.
my whole outlook on life completely changed and turned around. i became overwhelmingly negative. hateful at times. and then one day.. it all clicked. and that's when i began to learn from it. it being her death. i began to try to find my inner strength. and at that point i started to feel like i could breathe again.
i'm not really sure where i'm going with this post. that seems to be my common denominator as of late. my posts i guess reflect my life right now as it stands. a little crazy and a little all over the place.
i guess i just wanted to document that while everyday is always a struggle, i have made progress. my ground no longer quakes, but i am found crossing over the occasional quiver.
i no longer stare at the dates waiting for the 12th or the 28th to approach. most months they pass without a thought. funny though as i type this and peer over at my phone.. today is the 12th.
1 year and 8 months since she's been gone
20 months
80 weeks
560 days
it's still hard to believe
i still continue to have days of surrealness. i have days of sadness and weakness. days of dark and shadows. but i seem to have more days of happiness. more days of smiles. more days of lightness.
yes, i am different person. perhaps our relationship has suffered the consequence of this change. perhaps our relationship has bloomed because of this transformation. but grief does that to you. it completely and utterly molds you into an entirely different being. it takes what was once there and rips it apart leaving a illion broken pieces. eventually you start to get glued back together, but pieces are missing and shards are misplaced. i am different now.
so with all of this. all of the realizations i have had within myself i have also realized it is ok to continue living. it doesn't mean i've forgotten and it certainly doesn't mean i've moved on. it just means that i have chosen to live a life again. the life of a mommy with an angel in her heart. with memories to recall upon and pictures to remember her by.
with that being said, i am overjoyed and ecstatic to announce that i have been accepted into the RN program at my school. it has been a 6 years in the making. another milestone that i never thought i would reach. and while i know have a strenuous and tough 2 years ahead of me, i am realizing more about myself each day. my confidence has slowly begun to sprout.
i have to believe that at least some of my strength, my confidence, my need to succeed (sorry for the cliche) dwells from the death of Savanna.. from SURVIVING the death of Savanna. In the beginning I didn't think I would ever get past that first awful night without her heart beating in this world. And yet here I am sitting here, writing, telling the world of an accomplishment. I only wish in 2 years when I walk that stage and receive my diploma I would be grazing my eyes across the audience to see my 4 year old girl bouncing on her daddy's lap.
i feel accomplished
i feel sad
life is going in a great direction
i just wish i could say it was complete.
I've learned that I can do hard things.
I have learned to let things go.
i have learned that with hard work and faith you can do anything you set your mind to.
i have learned that it is not time that heals all wounds, it is what you do in that time to heal.
i have learned when to ask for help.
asking for help is not a sign of weakness, not asking for help when it is needed is.
i have learned to be slower to judge and eager to listen.
listen to all the words and the unspoken words.
i have learned to love with everything and more.
i have learned to take a picture and capture a snapshot of a memory.
i have learned a hidden love of writing i never knew existed.
i have found that communication is a key to any successful marriage.
i have learned to let myself cry.
i have learned it is ok to cry.
it is ok to be angry.
it is ok to feel guilty
i have learned that grief evolves. never goes away. but is always changing.
mostly i have learned, that good things can happen to good people.
i still sometimes feel as if i am being punished, that i must have done something terrible and awful to have lived through the death of my daughter. but i have realized that in that there was something positive to be pulled from that daunting tragedy. maybe that statement seems weird to you. but in her death, everything that surrounds it is completely and utterly negative. it is dark and dreary. to not find anything of positivity of light in it is to say her life meant nothing. at least that's what i have come to believe. i was always a glass half full kinda girl until the day Savanna took her last breath.
my whole outlook on life completely changed and turned around. i became overwhelmingly negative. hateful at times. and then one day.. it all clicked. and that's when i began to learn from it. it being her death. i began to try to find my inner strength. and at that point i started to feel like i could breathe again.
i'm not really sure where i'm going with this post. that seems to be my common denominator as of late. my posts i guess reflect my life right now as it stands. a little crazy and a little all over the place.
i guess i just wanted to document that while everyday is always a struggle, i have made progress. my ground no longer quakes, but i am found crossing over the occasional quiver.
i no longer stare at the dates waiting for the 12th or the 28th to approach. most months they pass without a thought. funny though as i type this and peer over at my phone.. today is the 12th.
1 year and 8 months since she's been gone
20 months
80 weeks
560 days
it's still hard to believe
i still continue to have days of surrealness. i have days of sadness and weakness. days of dark and shadows. but i seem to have more days of happiness. more days of smiles. more days of lightness.
yes, i am different person. perhaps our relationship has suffered the consequence of this change. perhaps our relationship has bloomed because of this transformation. but grief does that to you. it completely and utterly molds you into an entirely different being. it takes what was once there and rips it apart leaving a illion broken pieces. eventually you start to get glued back together, but pieces are missing and shards are misplaced. i am different now.
so with all of this. all of the realizations i have had within myself i have also realized it is ok to continue living. it doesn't mean i've forgotten and it certainly doesn't mean i've moved on. it just means that i have chosen to live a life again. the life of a mommy with an angel in her heart. with memories to recall upon and pictures to remember her by.
with that being said, i am overjoyed and ecstatic to announce that i have been accepted into the RN program at my school. it has been a 6 years in the making. another milestone that i never thought i would reach. and while i know have a strenuous and tough 2 years ahead of me, i am realizing more about myself each day. my confidence has slowly begun to sprout.
i have to believe that at least some of my strength, my confidence, my need to succeed (sorry for the cliche) dwells from the death of Savanna.. from SURVIVING the death of Savanna. In the beginning I didn't think I would ever get past that first awful night without her heart beating in this world. And yet here I am sitting here, writing, telling the world of an accomplishment. I only wish in 2 years when I walk that stage and receive my diploma I would be grazing my eyes across the audience to see my 4 year old girl bouncing on her daddy's lap.
i feel accomplished
i feel sad
life is going in a great direction
i just wish i could say it was complete.
July 3, 2012
Honesty Out Loud
I finally said it out loud today.
I finally told J something I had been pondering.
Something I had only really spoken about with Dr. D
At this stage in my grief.
I don't really care to visit Savanna's spot.
seems apalling doesn't it? seems awful. seems hateful almost. seems angry. maybe you're mouth is hanging open wondering how i could feel or think such an awful thing. or maybe..
just maybe..
you kinda get it. you kinda see it. you can understand it.
let me explain.
in the beginning, i wanted to go everyday, heck i NEEDED to go everyday. it's where i felt closest to her. her body is there, her final resting place.
without realizing it though, i always had an underlying unrealistic expectation. i think i've mentioned it before in past posts.
as i drove up the hill and around the bend, i wanted to see her sitting there, i wanted to see her crawling through the grass. sitting atop the stone legs swinging hair blowing in the breeze.
each time we would clean the stone, remove the clunky clay rocks, wipe the dirt from the angels, replace the old flowers with the new. each time, we would parent the only way we knew how. we took care of our girl the only earthly way we were allowed. we tended her spot, we brought her decor for the seasons.
but then something changed.
something happened within me.
it was christmas.
i was angry.
i was realizing i would never see what i wanted to see.
each time j would ask if i was ready to go, i would stall.. hoping, wishing, waiting, willing myself to see her physical body there. never will that happen. and i hated it.
in those moments, the moments of what is supposed to be the holidays of cheer and joy. i was angry hell i was PISSED! this was not OK, and what was the point of standing there?
nothing would come of it.
i didn't feel peace anymore, i didn't feel calmed. most of the time i didn't much feel her presence there anymore.
we didn't go back until March, her 2nd birthday. we brought her a beautiful and bright arrangement of flowers.
again, we cleaned and scrubbed, polished and tidied up her spot. only this time, there was a numbing empty that i felt.
in the past i felt some kind of fulfillment from carrying out these activities. i was honoring her, mothering her the only way i knew how to.
it wouldn't be until just this past june that i had an opportunity to visit her again. when the conversation first started my immediate thought was... i don't really want to.. i really don't care to.
followed by extreme guilt and sadness. how is it that i can think such a thing? how is it that i can NOT want to visit the spot where my daughter lies.
i talked to dr.d about this finally.. through my shame and through my guilt i told her how i didn't care if she had fresh flowers. it was irrelevant if she had working whirly-gigs or pretty decoration.. at the end of the day, i would never get from that spot what i truly and really want.
so why do it. why put myself in a position to continuously wish for the impossible?
that was the first time i said it out loud... the second time was today. to J. we're going out of town this weekend and will be merely a 45 minute drive from her rather then a 3 hour. we talked about going, i told him i didn't care to. i was so scared so afraid that he would think less of me.
he understood.
maybe you do, maybe you don't. but at that moment of realization last month, i could understand why the little girl buried diagonal from Savanna who died 10 years ago, never has fresh flowers on her grave. only once have we seen new ones.. on the date of her birth 10 years ago.
so many times had i cursed those parents and looked down upon them. so many times i was hateful to these strangers.. but here i am now.. understanding and more compassionate.
i'll never see her in this life, the way that i want to. i have realized i don't have to go to a grave to feel close to my girl. forever since her funeral i have called it her spot because calling it her grave or the cemetery made it too real. made it too gruesome and traumatic. but that is the fact. and that is what it is. it is where we laid her body to rest.. but her memory of her life, her smiles, her spirit.. they're buried in my heart a part of MY soul and spirit forever, they're locked in the layers of my mind.
and that's something i can visit any day of the week.
so maybe now you understand. and maybe still you don't. but i have always promised to be real and true.. and as afraid as i am to hit the publish button.. this part of grief can be so incredibly ostrasizing. please know if you have these feelings you're not alone. you're not a monster.
Sweet Savanna,
I love you sweet girl.
Love, Momma
I finally told J something I had been pondering.
Something I had only really spoken about with Dr. D
At this stage in my grief.
I don't really care to visit Savanna's spot.
seems apalling doesn't it? seems awful. seems hateful almost. seems angry. maybe you're mouth is hanging open wondering how i could feel or think such an awful thing. or maybe..
just maybe..
you kinda get it. you kinda see it. you can understand it.
let me explain.
in the beginning, i wanted to go everyday, heck i NEEDED to go everyday. it's where i felt closest to her. her body is there, her final resting place.
without realizing it though, i always had an underlying unrealistic expectation. i think i've mentioned it before in past posts.
as i drove up the hill and around the bend, i wanted to see her sitting there, i wanted to see her crawling through the grass. sitting atop the stone legs swinging hair blowing in the breeze.
each time we would clean the stone, remove the clunky clay rocks, wipe the dirt from the angels, replace the old flowers with the new. each time, we would parent the only way we knew how. we took care of our girl the only earthly way we were allowed. we tended her spot, we brought her decor for the seasons.
but then something changed.
something happened within me.
it was christmas.
i was angry.
i was realizing i would never see what i wanted to see.
each time j would ask if i was ready to go, i would stall.. hoping, wishing, waiting, willing myself to see her physical body there. never will that happen. and i hated it.
in those moments, the moments of what is supposed to be the holidays of cheer and joy. i was angry hell i was PISSED! this was not OK, and what was the point of standing there?
nothing would come of it.
i didn't feel peace anymore, i didn't feel calmed. most of the time i didn't much feel her presence there anymore.
we didn't go back until March, her 2nd birthday. we brought her a beautiful and bright arrangement of flowers.
again, we cleaned and scrubbed, polished and tidied up her spot. only this time, there was a numbing empty that i felt.
in the past i felt some kind of fulfillment from carrying out these activities. i was honoring her, mothering her the only way i knew how to.
it wouldn't be until just this past june that i had an opportunity to visit her again. when the conversation first started my immediate thought was... i don't really want to.. i really don't care to.
followed by extreme guilt and sadness. how is it that i can think such a thing? how is it that i can NOT want to visit the spot where my daughter lies.
i talked to dr.d about this finally.. through my shame and through my guilt i told her how i didn't care if she had fresh flowers. it was irrelevant if she had working whirly-gigs or pretty decoration.. at the end of the day, i would never get from that spot what i truly and really want.
so why do it. why put myself in a position to continuously wish for the impossible?
that was the first time i said it out loud... the second time was today. to J. we're going out of town this weekend and will be merely a 45 minute drive from her rather then a 3 hour. we talked about going, i told him i didn't care to. i was so scared so afraid that he would think less of me.
he understood.
maybe you do, maybe you don't. but at that moment of realization last month, i could understand why the little girl buried diagonal from Savanna who died 10 years ago, never has fresh flowers on her grave. only once have we seen new ones.. on the date of her birth 10 years ago.
so many times had i cursed those parents and looked down upon them. so many times i was hateful to these strangers.. but here i am now.. understanding and more compassionate.
i'll never see her in this life, the way that i want to. i have realized i don't have to go to a grave to feel close to my girl. forever since her funeral i have called it her spot because calling it her grave or the cemetery made it too real. made it too gruesome and traumatic. but that is the fact. and that is what it is. it is where we laid her body to rest.. but her memory of her life, her smiles, her spirit.. they're buried in my heart a part of MY soul and spirit forever, they're locked in the layers of my mind.
and that's something i can visit any day of the week.
so maybe now you understand. and maybe still you don't. but i have always promised to be real and true.. and as afraid as i am to hit the publish button.. this part of grief can be so incredibly ostrasizing. please know if you have these feelings you're not alone. you're not a monster.
Sweet Savanna,
I love you sweet girl.
Love, Momma
June 21, 2012
Coincidence?? I think not
I used to be a huge believer in coincidences. When i say 'used to be' i am referring to life before the death of Savanna. a life where everything was butterflies and sunshine. OK well, maybe I'm exaggerating a little, but for the most part that holds true. i would run into an old friend somewhere out of the blue.. 'o what a coincidence.' my view on those changed drastically after Savanna died. (along with so many other things)
first we realized a few things.. the day before she died was Veteran's Day, so J had the day off. he got to spend the entire day with her alone by himself. as a matter of fact he has the last picture taken of her alive. the Friday before she passed, she was getting over a terrible ear infection and upper respiratory infection, so i stayed home with her. we each got 'our day' coincidence? nope.
so suddenly after her death we would spot ladybugs and white feathers in the most unusual of places. whether the lady's were real or of a materialistic nature we would find them.. or they would find us. on her first birthday we released balloons.. we hadn't seen a ladybug in quite some time. as J and i went outside to get some air, we found ladybugs everywhere. there was a day i was in a store shopping, alone. out of the corner of my eye i see something red, a ladybug key chain dangling on the hook of a counter top display, and then i hear a momma calling for her daughter, Savanna. coincidence? negative
these are just the base of the experiences we have walked through that show me there is no definition to coincidence. because nothing is just that, in all actuality, it's God's way of showing us how he has completely molded the world into what it is. i am able to not look at something like that and see only a coincidence, but something so much greater, so much more meaningful, a hidden blessing if you will.
but this story of the non-coincidence keeps going.
for quite some time j and i have been wanting to know of the men that worked on Savanna that day. no they couldn't save her, but i know and believe that they did everything within their powers to do so. but i just always felt some kind of a heart tug to shake their hands, heck give them a hug and thanking them for providing the care and the attention that was needed above and beyond in that moment in time.
well j has decided to pursue a career after the military as a firefighter/paramedic. he has completed his EMT course and is now venturing into the clinical aspect of it. this past weekend was his first adventure. he was so incredibly excited, getting his uniform ready and prepped. he even did his hair in the morning :) (something of which i often fight him to do for me! )
so Saturday he was working 8am-8pm. he got teamed up with his 'mentor' and went on about his day. of course, those normal conversation starters started. married? kids? etc.. you know the drill. its the basic how to get to know someone 101. and of course j proceeded to tell him about Savanna. he told him we wanted to know who had worked on her, that we wanted to thank them. his mentor made a couple calls, and whatya know... one of the guys B was working that day that shift at the same time.
j was able to talk to him, to shake his hand, to thank him. all the things i know he felt he needed to do. and to add warmness to this story he remembered her. he remembered the call. he remembered our girl.
the story doesn't stop there.
the next day j was talking to the dispatcher, asked her how long she had worked there etc.. 3 years she said. he then simply stated.. 'you probably got the call for our daughter.' it seems they had all talked about it, and she had been the one to pull the records from that November 12th day. and she told him she remembered it too. she remembers all the little ones. she told him that she remembered the guys talking about how they had jumped medians and curbs to try to get to her faster.
as he told me these stories, these stories that pertained to our life story.. it was more bits and pieces of Savanna's story really. it was like i was getting another piece of her in a way. i was getting maybe some closure to a part of her death that i didn't have before. i was hearing with my own ears and through J's words how her life has still impacted complete strangers. it was sad, it was happy, it was everything and anything in between. i wasn't sure if i should be proud or saddened. but i know that tears were streaming down my face.
again, the story continues on..
on Sunday, they had not received many calls.. it was a 'slow' day of some sorts. it was late, j was going to be done within the next hour or so when a call was heard over the loudspeaker. it a peds call (pediatric) one paramedic told j that in his 30 years of service, he had only received 12 peds calls. so the chances of it happening on J's second day on the 'job' seems coincidence I'm sure.. but read on more to find that it was such a God thing that happened.. something that completely re-affirms my belief that all things are happening for a reason.. whether we will see that reason, understand that reason, or accept that reason is unknown, but it is truly what i believe to be true.
they asked J if he wanted to go, if he was sure. he said yes. he knew this was the one type of call he would not know how he would react to, how he would cope or deal with it. but he knew he had to, it was part of the job. so he went.. they got there and B, the man that worked so diligently to save our girl asked him if he was ready, if he was OK, and if he was sure he wanted to do this. yes, he said. and so they did. and together, J and B worked on this 2 year old little boy. J and B worked together to save this little 2 year old boy. together they were able to bring back a boy for his family.
Such a special moment. Such a blessing. Such a true testament of faith and fate alone. After that incident, it has completely and totally justified itself in my mind, that there are no such things as coincidences. just a healing blessing sent to my husband, daddy to Savanna. a wink from God to let him know that we will be OK. and to let us know that because of Savanna, her daddy is going to do great things.
So if you ask me if I believe in coincidences my answer is no.. I do, however believe in God's whispers.
first we realized a few things.. the day before she died was Veteran's Day, so J had the day off. he got to spend the entire day with her alone by himself. as a matter of fact he has the last picture taken of her alive. the Friday before she passed, she was getting over a terrible ear infection and upper respiratory infection, so i stayed home with her. we each got 'our day' coincidence? nope.
so suddenly after her death we would spot ladybugs and white feathers in the most unusual of places. whether the lady's were real or of a materialistic nature we would find them.. or they would find us. on her first birthday we released balloons.. we hadn't seen a ladybug in quite some time. as J and i went outside to get some air, we found ladybugs everywhere. there was a day i was in a store shopping, alone. out of the corner of my eye i see something red, a ladybug key chain dangling on the hook of a counter top display, and then i hear a momma calling for her daughter, Savanna. coincidence? negative
these are just the base of the experiences we have walked through that show me there is no definition to coincidence. because nothing is just that, in all actuality, it's God's way of showing us how he has completely molded the world into what it is. i am able to not look at something like that and see only a coincidence, but something so much greater, so much more meaningful, a hidden blessing if you will.
but this story of the non-coincidence keeps going.
for quite some time j and i have been wanting to know of the men that worked on Savanna that day. no they couldn't save her, but i know and believe that they did everything within their powers to do so. but i just always felt some kind of a heart tug to shake their hands, heck give them a hug and thanking them for providing the care and the attention that was needed above and beyond in that moment in time.
well j has decided to pursue a career after the military as a firefighter/paramedic. he has completed his EMT course and is now venturing into the clinical aspect of it. this past weekend was his first adventure. he was so incredibly excited, getting his uniform ready and prepped. he even did his hair in the morning :) (something of which i often fight him to do for me! )
so Saturday he was working 8am-8pm. he got teamed up with his 'mentor' and went on about his day. of course, those normal conversation starters started. married? kids? etc.. you know the drill. its the basic how to get to know someone 101. and of course j proceeded to tell him about Savanna. he told him we wanted to know who had worked on her, that we wanted to thank them. his mentor made a couple calls, and whatya know... one of the guys B was working that day that shift at the same time.
j was able to talk to him, to shake his hand, to thank him. all the things i know he felt he needed to do. and to add warmness to this story he remembered her. he remembered the call. he remembered our girl.
the story doesn't stop there.
the next day j was talking to the dispatcher, asked her how long she had worked there etc.. 3 years she said. he then simply stated.. 'you probably got the call for our daughter.' it seems they had all talked about it, and she had been the one to pull the records from that November 12th day. and she told him she remembered it too. she remembers all the little ones. she told him that she remembered the guys talking about how they had jumped medians and curbs to try to get to her faster.
as he told me these stories, these stories that pertained to our life story.. it was more bits and pieces of Savanna's story really. it was like i was getting another piece of her in a way. i was getting maybe some closure to a part of her death that i didn't have before. i was hearing with my own ears and through J's words how her life has still impacted complete strangers. it was sad, it was happy, it was everything and anything in between. i wasn't sure if i should be proud or saddened. but i know that tears were streaming down my face.
again, the story continues on..
on Sunday, they had not received many calls.. it was a 'slow' day of some sorts. it was late, j was going to be done within the next hour or so when a call was heard over the loudspeaker. it a peds call (pediatric) one paramedic told j that in his 30 years of service, he had only received 12 peds calls. so the chances of it happening on J's second day on the 'job' seems coincidence I'm sure.. but read on more to find that it was such a God thing that happened.. something that completely re-affirms my belief that all things are happening for a reason.. whether we will see that reason, understand that reason, or accept that reason is unknown, but it is truly what i believe to be true.
they asked J if he wanted to go, if he was sure. he said yes. he knew this was the one type of call he would not know how he would react to, how he would cope or deal with it. but he knew he had to, it was part of the job. so he went.. they got there and B, the man that worked so diligently to save our girl asked him if he was ready, if he was OK, and if he was sure he wanted to do this. yes, he said. and so they did. and together, J and B worked on this 2 year old little boy. J and B worked together to save this little 2 year old boy. together they were able to bring back a boy for his family.
Such a special moment. Such a blessing. Such a true testament of faith and fate alone. After that incident, it has completely and totally justified itself in my mind, that there are no such things as coincidences. just a healing blessing sent to my husband, daddy to Savanna. a wink from God to let him know that we will be OK. and to let us know that because of Savanna, her daddy is going to do great things.
So if you ask me if I believe in coincidences my answer is no.. I do, however believe in God's whispers.
May 14, 2012
Letter to my girl
Dearest Savanna,
it's 1030 at night. i should be putting dinner away. i should be packing my lunch for work tomorrow. heck, i should be in bed. but as i sat outside feeling the night breeze and gazing up into the Heavens, i had an overwhelming urge to write you a letter. maybe because Mother's Day has come and gone. maybe because i just wanted to write you. perhaps it's because my longing for you to be in my arms has been so incredibly strong.. almost numbingly painful. i just felt like i needed to talk to you. to tell you all the ways that i love you. to confess all the guilt, the sadness, the anger, even some of the joys i've felt.
i still find myself staring at your pictures, pinching myself into reality that you were real. somedays i can't grasp it. some days it's hard to believe that i was picked to be your mommy. i ask myself, i ask God why. why was i picked? why was your daddy picked? some days, i don't think i can handle it. some days i don't think i will make it. did we seem 'strong?' did we seem that we would be able to conquer this world and road of grief? i'm not sure. i never knew i could feel such a love. such a longing. such a heart ache. i never knew this world of motherhood could ever exist.
i often wonder what you're doing above us.. hopping from cloud to cloud. giggling with other angels. do you yearn for us as we yearn for you? is time the same in Heaven as it is on Earth? do you miss us? i ask myself so many of these questions. the more i ask. the more confused. the more hurt. the more sad i become. as tears trickle down my cheeks i wish for you.
your daddy and i tried so long to have you. we wished you into existance.. all the while your little spirit was patiently waiting.. and then you came. and then as quickly as you sparkled your way into our lives, your life dissipated before me. i have found myself going back to that horrendous day. i find myself re-living the moments of your last day here on Earth. how i wish so intensely i could go back. how much i wish i could hold you one last time. how so willingly i have tried to wish your life back into existence. i miss you my girl.
daddy and i, we have decided to try and make another little brother or sister for you. with much failure i must admit. it's very daunting this task of trying to create another life. i feel guilt and sadness. the year it took us to conceive you into existence felt entirely worth it the moment you were placed on my chest and i heard that first yelp explode from your lungs. every moment of negative tests and false alarms all became null and void the moment you looked up at me and i knew that you knew who i was to you. but then you left. and now, i'm left with memories, and thoughts, wishes and dreams. what if we can't have that again. what if you were our one shot. what if i screwed it all up. i feel guilty in so many ways of wanting another child. another sparkle to hold in my arms. i only know of a sweet small taste of that innocence and i so badly want it back.
do you feel like we're trying to replace you? do you feel like we're moving on? we're not. that's a promise. yes it's true.. i want to give our next little sunshine all the things we were never able to give to you. does that mean i love you a little less? there's a permaneant pocket in my heart and that remains to be your home. i'm not really sure where i'm going with this letter. i just really want you to know that i love you so very much. i want you to know that should your daddy and i be once again blessed with the joy of another child, you will never be forgotten. i want you to know that your pocket in my heart will always be yours. the file in my mind will always belong to you. a piece of me will always be with you.
my life has become one large battle. a battle of emotions and anguish. a battle of feeling ok to feel good. a battle of being ok with moving forward. there is no such thing as moving on.. moving on means to forget and leave what you have in the past. i could never do that. i could never forget you. i could never leave you behind. it is i who have been left behind.
as the world continues to fall through the seasons, as the days continue to turn, as the clock continues to tick on minute by minute, i am reminded that everything keeps growing, everything keeps moving, while i am here. each day a new arrival of a new bundle of joy cries its way into the world. each day a new mommy to be announces with such great joy of their future to come. i am saddened each time. of course there is a joy, a happiness i feel for them. but there is a sadness in my heart. i once was that person. and now when these events transpire i am reminded that while the world continues on and the days continue to click by and the years continue to surpass us.. i am still without you and i am stuck.
i hope you know how much i love you. how much you mean to me and my world. and while sometimes it feels like my own world continues to pass by, there are still bits of me waiting in the turnstiles. waiting for the day that this reality was a nasty nightmare. surrealness is slowly wearing off. and reality is painstakingly becoming clear. i'm not sure if i'll ever be able to accept your death, your absence. but i know i will keep going.
perhaps you have met your one day to be baby brother or sister. if you have please tell them to hurry. give them a nudge. in having another little ball of love i will also have a piece of you back in my arms again. not in the way i want, but in a way that i will learn to accept. that, that's something i can learn to be ok with. i will never have you again not in this life at least, but if anything, at least i can have a piece, a part of you. and i can live with that.
i love you. i love you. i love you. if i could i would fill the Heavens with my words. i would fill the world with your spirit. you're my angel. you're my heart. stay close. don't linger too far. each breath i take i know i am closer to you. each beat of my heart i am nearer to holding you in my arms once again.
So much love, so much greatfulness, so much adornment,
your mommy
it's 1030 at night. i should be putting dinner away. i should be packing my lunch for work tomorrow. heck, i should be in bed. but as i sat outside feeling the night breeze and gazing up into the Heavens, i had an overwhelming urge to write you a letter. maybe because Mother's Day has come and gone. maybe because i just wanted to write you. perhaps it's because my longing for you to be in my arms has been so incredibly strong.. almost numbingly painful. i just felt like i needed to talk to you. to tell you all the ways that i love you. to confess all the guilt, the sadness, the anger, even some of the joys i've felt.i still find myself staring at your pictures, pinching myself into reality that you were real. somedays i can't grasp it. some days it's hard to believe that i was picked to be your mommy. i ask myself, i ask God why. why was i picked? why was your daddy picked? some days, i don't think i can handle it. some days i don't think i will make it. did we seem 'strong?' did we seem that we would be able to conquer this world and road of grief? i'm not sure. i never knew i could feel such a love. such a longing. such a heart ache. i never knew this world of motherhood could ever exist.
i often wonder what you're doing above us.. hopping from cloud to cloud. giggling with other angels. do you yearn for us as we yearn for you? is time the same in Heaven as it is on Earth? do you miss us? i ask myself so many of these questions. the more i ask. the more confused. the more hurt. the more sad i become. as tears trickle down my cheeks i wish for you.
your daddy and i tried so long to have you. we wished you into existance.. all the while your little spirit was patiently waiting.. and then you came. and then as quickly as you sparkled your way into our lives, your life dissipated before me. i have found myself going back to that horrendous day. i find myself re-living the moments of your last day here on Earth. how i wish so intensely i could go back. how much i wish i could hold you one last time. how so willingly i have tried to wish your life back into existence. i miss you my girl.
daddy and i, we have decided to try and make another little brother or sister for you. with much failure i must admit. it's very daunting this task of trying to create another life. i feel guilt and sadness. the year it took us to conceive you into existence felt entirely worth it the moment you were placed on my chest and i heard that first yelp explode from your lungs. every moment of negative tests and false alarms all became null and void the moment you looked up at me and i knew that you knew who i was to you. but then you left. and now, i'm left with memories, and thoughts, wishes and dreams. what if we can't have that again. what if you were our one shot. what if i screwed it all up. i feel guilty in so many ways of wanting another child. another sparkle to hold in my arms. i only know of a sweet small taste of that innocence and i so badly want it back.
do you feel like we're trying to replace you? do you feel like we're moving on? we're not. that's a promise. yes it's true.. i want to give our next little sunshine all the things we were never able to give to you. does that mean i love you a little less? there's a permaneant pocket in my heart and that remains to be your home. i'm not really sure where i'm going with this letter. i just really want you to know that i love you so very much. i want you to know that should your daddy and i be once again blessed with the joy of another child, you will never be forgotten. i want you to know that your pocket in my heart will always be yours. the file in my mind will always belong to you. a piece of me will always be with you.
my life has become one large battle. a battle of emotions and anguish. a battle of feeling ok to feel good. a battle of being ok with moving forward. there is no such thing as moving on.. moving on means to forget and leave what you have in the past. i could never do that. i could never forget you. i could never leave you behind. it is i who have been left behind.
as the world continues to fall through the seasons, as the days continue to turn, as the clock continues to tick on minute by minute, i am reminded that everything keeps growing, everything keeps moving, while i am here. each day a new arrival of a new bundle of joy cries its way into the world. each day a new mommy to be announces with such great joy of their future to come. i am saddened each time. of course there is a joy, a happiness i feel for them. but there is a sadness in my heart. i once was that person. and now when these events transpire i am reminded that while the world continues on and the days continue to click by and the years continue to surpass us.. i am still without you and i am stuck.
i hope you know how much i love you. how much you mean to me and my world. and while sometimes it feels like my own world continues to pass by, there are still bits of me waiting in the turnstiles. waiting for the day that this reality was a nasty nightmare. surrealness is slowly wearing off. and reality is painstakingly becoming clear. i'm not sure if i'll ever be able to accept your death, your absence. but i know i will keep going.perhaps you have met your one day to be baby brother or sister. if you have please tell them to hurry. give them a nudge. in having another little ball of love i will also have a piece of you back in my arms again. not in the way i want, but in a way that i will learn to accept. that, that's something i can learn to be ok with. i will never have you again not in this life at least, but if anything, at least i can have a piece, a part of you. and i can live with that.
i love you. i love you. i love you. if i could i would fill the Heavens with my words. i would fill the world with your spirit. you're my angel. you're my heart. stay close. don't linger too far. each breath i take i know i am closer to you. each beat of my heart i am nearer to holding you in my arms once again.
So much love, so much greatfulness, so much adornment,
your mommy
May 13, 2012
Mothers Day
Well here it is another 'holiday' without her. This second string of holidays without Savanna has been so drastically different then the first. This has been a conversation I have had with Dr. D several times. The second Thanksgiving, Christmas, Birthday and now Mother's Day. All so seemingly much harder then the first. It didn't quite make sense to me. 'Logically' thinking, the first would be the worse right?
Looking into it further i made several realizations. The 'firsts' were hard. (and hard seems to downplay the true emotions..) but it was a different kind of hard. Her death was still so fresh, so new. That although we were grieving being without her, we were still freshly grieving her death. We were still learning to manage our day to day routine without her. We were still figuring out what normal meant again. we were still trying to make sense of what had just happened merely months before. last mother's day, we didn't do anything. j didn't get me anything.. i didn't want anything. i didn't even want to acknowledge the day. yes it was a holiday. but it was still a day without her. no different then any other day. so why make a big stink. why make it out to more then what it was? it just didn't make sense. she was gone and that's all there was to it.
but this year has proved to be dramatically different. all day yesterday and today i have felt close to tears. i have longed for her more then i had in quite some time. i missed all things about her. her fingers, toes her smile her eyes. i missed the just the simple 'being' of Savanna, her body, her breaths. i wanted it so badly this week it hurt. she would be 2 years old. old enough to run into the room and jump on the bed. old enough to 'help' daddy cook me breakfast in bed. old enough to hand me a hand painted artwork. old enough to give me a gift a hug a kiss. old enough to walk up to me and wrap her sweet arms around my neck and give me a sweet kiss. and yet here we are.
i have nothing. i think j knew it was hard. he got me some goodies.
we then went to lunch and just lounged. watched movies and hung out.
as i discussed these feelings with dr. d she helped me to figure out where the overcoming of emotions stemmed from. the second year withouts are in all actuality the firsts. think about it. the first year.. we're just trying to survive, trying to cope, trying to merely take another breath. but for us, by the second time, we've somehow managed. we have somehow survived the first year. the first withouts. and through the passing of days we found a new routine a new 'normal.' our heads and minds in a different place. the pieces aren't as broken and the hurt doesn't sting. although the pain is still ever present we have become more accustomed to it. we have learned to survive on a daily basis. and so with that.. the second withouts become the first. and to me it made so much sense.
i wish so badly and with my whole heart that i could be celebrating this day with her. my heart feels torn back into pieces, and the pain resonates throughout my entire body. my stomach pangs and my legs feel weak. my heart seems to skip a beat as people wish me a happy mothers day. it warms my heart that others know that i am still a mother. no, not in the way that is conventional by any means. rather then decorating a room, or setting up play dates, i decorate a grave. instead of giving her baths and play time outside, i clean her memorial stone. i bring flowers to make her spot look pretty instead of putting them in her hair. i will never get to experience a morning of breakfast in bed with my Savanna's bright blue eyes staring back at me. i will never feel her sweet little arms wrapped around my waist. i will never get to hear her heartbeat or feel her breaths on my skin as she smothers me in mommy kisses. and today that reality has completely crashed its tidal wave into my face. and my heart hurts. i miss her. so bad. and i want her back.
i want life to be how i want it to be. i want her here bouncing on my lap. i want her getting into things she's not supposed to. i want to put her timeout, push her down the slide. i want to watch her be curious about all the things in this world. i want her to ask me why over and over and over until i finally say because i said so. i want her. and only her.
i don't like the new realization. i don't like it one bit. i want to go back and be in the surreality. at least then it somehow felt like the feelings were real. but now, now that's ever so slowly evolving into my reality i want it to go away. reality hurts too badly. surrealness brings a false reality, which i realize.. but that false reality didn't sting as badly it didn't create quite as many tears.. it didn't bring forth the what-ifs. i miss her. i want her back.
-----
I want to wish a Happy Mother's Day to all of you beautiful and loving mother's out there. Whether you hold your babies in your arms or carry them in your heart. If there is one thing I know as my reality, no one, NO ONE, can take away the gift of being a mother. Grab onto it, hold it close, and cherish the moments. whether you are able to carry out the motherly acts in the way you wish or the way you don't.. you are special. you are a mother. xoxo
-----
I wanted to share some photos we had done when she was 8 weeks old. Our very first family photos.. and unfortunately the only ones we were able to do. Thank you to Olivia Womack Photography for capturing the some of the best moments.
Looking into it further i made several realizations. The 'firsts' were hard. (and hard seems to downplay the true emotions..) but it was a different kind of hard. Her death was still so fresh, so new. That although we were grieving being without her, we were still freshly grieving her death. We were still learning to manage our day to day routine without her. We were still figuring out what normal meant again. we were still trying to make sense of what had just happened merely months before. last mother's day, we didn't do anything. j didn't get me anything.. i didn't want anything. i didn't even want to acknowledge the day. yes it was a holiday. but it was still a day without her. no different then any other day. so why make a big stink. why make it out to more then what it was? it just didn't make sense. she was gone and that's all there was to it.
but this year has proved to be dramatically different. all day yesterday and today i have felt close to tears. i have longed for her more then i had in quite some time. i missed all things about her. her fingers, toes her smile her eyes. i missed the just the simple 'being' of Savanna, her body, her breaths. i wanted it so badly this week it hurt. she would be 2 years old. old enough to run into the room and jump on the bed. old enough to 'help' daddy cook me breakfast in bed. old enough to hand me a hand painted artwork. old enough to give me a gift a hug a kiss. old enough to walk up to me and wrap her sweet arms around my neck and give me a sweet kiss. and yet here we are.
i have nothing. i think j knew it was hard. he got me some goodies.
 |
| Sticker for my car |
we then went to lunch and just lounged. watched movies and hung out.
as i discussed these feelings with dr. d she helped me to figure out where the overcoming of emotions stemmed from. the second year withouts are in all actuality the firsts. think about it. the first year.. we're just trying to survive, trying to cope, trying to merely take another breath. but for us, by the second time, we've somehow managed. we have somehow survived the first year. the first withouts. and through the passing of days we found a new routine a new 'normal.' our heads and minds in a different place. the pieces aren't as broken and the hurt doesn't sting. although the pain is still ever present we have become more accustomed to it. we have learned to survive on a daily basis. and so with that.. the second withouts become the first. and to me it made so much sense.
i wish so badly and with my whole heart that i could be celebrating this day with her. my heart feels torn back into pieces, and the pain resonates throughout my entire body. my stomach pangs and my legs feel weak. my heart seems to skip a beat as people wish me a happy mothers day. it warms my heart that others know that i am still a mother. no, not in the way that is conventional by any means. rather then decorating a room, or setting up play dates, i decorate a grave. instead of giving her baths and play time outside, i clean her memorial stone. i bring flowers to make her spot look pretty instead of putting them in her hair. i will never get to experience a morning of breakfast in bed with my Savanna's bright blue eyes staring back at me. i will never feel her sweet little arms wrapped around my waist. i will never get to hear her heartbeat or feel her breaths on my skin as she smothers me in mommy kisses. and today that reality has completely crashed its tidal wave into my face. and my heart hurts. i miss her. so bad. and i want her back.
i want life to be how i want it to be. i want her here bouncing on my lap. i want her getting into things she's not supposed to. i want to put her timeout, push her down the slide. i want to watch her be curious about all the things in this world. i want her to ask me why over and over and over until i finally say because i said so. i want her. and only her.
i don't like the new realization. i don't like it one bit. i want to go back and be in the surreality. at least then it somehow felt like the feelings were real. but now, now that's ever so slowly evolving into my reality i want it to go away. reality hurts too badly. surrealness brings a false reality, which i realize.. but that false reality didn't sting as badly it didn't create quite as many tears.. it didn't bring forth the what-ifs. i miss her. i want her back.
-----
I want to wish a Happy Mother's Day to all of you beautiful and loving mother's out there. Whether you hold your babies in your arms or carry them in your heart. If there is one thing I know as my reality, no one, NO ONE, can take away the gift of being a mother. Grab onto it, hold it close, and cherish the moments. whether you are able to carry out the motherly acts in the way you wish or the way you don't.. you are special. you are a mother. xoxo
-----
I wanted to share some photos we had done when she was 8 weeks old. Our very first family photos.. and unfortunately the only ones we were able to do. Thank you to Olivia Womack Photography for capturing the some of the best moments.
April 7, 2012
Spring For SIDS
Only a few days left folks!
I just wanted to give a quick update real quick..
I have ordered the bands.. this year we are doing silicone wristbands. Standard size.
White.
Debossed print.
Saying "remembering tiny angels"
With the SFS logo next to it.
With a blue/pink ribbon tied around it.
A donation of $5 will get you one of these and because we were able to get them so cheap 100% of the profit will benefit the SIDS institute! I am soo excited to get them in. I ordered them the day before yesterday. I will post pics once they come in.
I had someone ask if we were able to put their individual child's name on the bands.. and while I really wish this was something we could do, we are not able to do that at this time. I tried to keep the saying as generic as possible, trying to honor not just my girl but all others who have lost. Whether it be SIDS, stillbirth, miscarriage etc...
I am so grateful to the many of you who have contributed thus far. Any amount of any kind is always helpful. And maybe that $1 will be the extra dollar that's needed to help save a life, or inform another family who is uneducated on SIDS.
If you would like to make a contribution in honor of Savanna, you may do so here..
springforsids.org/teams/savannas-smiles
Once payment is received we will ship out the band via USPS.
Please email me t.bogue [at] live [dot] com with your mailing address.
Thanks again everyone!!! :)
I just wanted to give a quick update real quick..
I have ordered the bands.. this year we are doing silicone wristbands. Standard size.
White.
Debossed print.
Saying "remembering tiny angels"
With the SFS logo next to it.
With a blue/pink ribbon tied around it.
A donation of $5 will get you one of these and because we were able to get them so cheap 100% of the profit will benefit the SIDS institute! I am soo excited to get them in. I ordered them the day before yesterday. I will post pics once they come in.
I had someone ask if we were able to put their individual child's name on the bands.. and while I really wish this was something we could do, we are not able to do that at this time. I tried to keep the saying as generic as possible, trying to honor not just my girl but all others who have lost. Whether it be SIDS, stillbirth, miscarriage etc...
I am so grateful to the many of you who have contributed thus far. Any amount of any kind is always helpful. And maybe that $1 will be the extra dollar that's needed to help save a life, or inform another family who is uneducated on SIDS.
If you would like to make a contribution in honor of Savanna, you may do so here..
springforsids.org/teams/savannas-smiles
Once payment is received we will ship out the band via USPS.
Please email me t.bogue [at] live [dot] com with your mailing address.
Thanks again everyone!!! :)
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