Jan. 6th, A Year Without Her

“A powerful life embraces pain, brokenness and weakness and understands that perfection is for Heaven, not Earth.” Mary Southerland

This Thursday marks the one year anniversary of my daughter's death, and I'm writing about it today because I don't think I'll be able to on Thursday. We don't have any planned for that day... I wish I did, but I just haven't had the heart to figure anything out and most things I've thought of just don't feel right... Maybe in the coming years we'll commemorate the day with something special, a balloon release, a butterfly release, something... But not this year.

I wasn't sure what to expect this week to be like, and trust me, I've had plenty of time trying to imagine it. Of course I'd always assumed January 6th would be a hard and sad day, but part of me was hopeful that it wouldn't be because somehow the tears have slowed to a stop and most of the time I'm able to look back on everything in a positive light, focusing on the joys and blessings. However, in all honesty, Thursday is going to be a very hard and sad day. I know this because this week (and it's only Tuesday) has already been hard for me, something I wasn't necessarily expecting. I expected a hard day on Thursday, not a hard week.

I'm usually able to have selective remembering with Hailey, which enables me to focus on the joys and blessings like I was saying. But really, I think sometimes that's a fault of mine. I'm worried I'm hiding all the negatives and pain away deep inside of me somewhere, which I know isn't good.

This week I've realized more so than ever before that at some point I stopped giving myself permission to grieve. I don't give myself permission to be as sad as I know I truly feel sometimes. I don't give myself permission to cry in public, in front of family, in front of friends, in front of my husband even. And really, I don't give myself permission to cry even when I'm alone anymore. I don't allow myself to feel 'weak.' I'm not sure why. I know sometimes my lack of tears is because of God's comfort and peace, but sometimes, as I'm recently admitting to myself, I just don't allow myself to cry. ... I think part of it's been that I know it's okay to feel sorrow and anger towards my loss, but I also know how those things can go out of control and lead to destruction and problems. So I think it's out of a fear that my grief will get out of control and I will no longer be living as someone who knows Christ. I know it's okay to weep and grieve, many people written about in the Bible do so, Jesus himself wept... But I also know, it's not good for us to stay in that state...

Do not mourn like those that have no hope. ~1 Thes. 4:13

But anyway, I began this week not giving myself permission to grieve and feel. I felt myself bottling it all up and hiding it inside of myself, and I right away I knew that doing so was going to destroy me. I needed to give myself permission to cry and release my feelings. So I did. Alone in the house, in the shower, I let myself grieve and feel my raw emotions. I let it all out. And while my grief obviously hurts, it felt good letting it go. Because in not allowing myself to cry and grieve, I realized I was holding onto it all and it was burdensome.

“It is some relief to weep; grief is satisfied and carried off by tears.” Ovid

So yes, this week is very hard for me. I can't help but remember and feel it all. My mind goes over all the details and feelings of January 6th last year and the days immediately following... Experiencing the death of your child is probably one of the worst things in the world. But the thing is, it isn't just a one time thing, it's having to experience it over and over again in your memory. It's heart breaking, over and over again. So often I try to forget and ignore all the memories and things that bring me pain, which I'm realizing is not the best thing to do...

I didn't write about this on Hailey's birthday because I was trying to focus my mind on the joys and blessings of my daughter (and trying to ignore the pain). In doing so, I buried a lot of painful memories and emotions from that day that wanted to come forth. In all honesty, Hailey's birthday was a hard day for me to remember. I want to say that without a doubt that the birth of my daughter and meeting her and holding her for the first time was the best day of my life...But, honestly, it wasn't. All the wonder and joy in it was tainted with unimaginable pain, and really, it was an awful day.

The days of her birth and death are two of the hardest days for me to remember. As the anniversary of her death approaches, I can't help but remember the pain and emotions I felt the day of her birth...

We went into the hospital and I went into labor fully expecting to have it all end with holding a healthy baby girl in our arms. We went into the hospital with our nursery at home decorated and full of all the goodies we'd need for her first year expecting to bring her home in a couple of days. We went in with hopes and dreams of a future of raising our daughter. We went in like most other people ... If you're a parent, perhaps you can at least understand this part of it.

My labor and experience of giving birth was pretty much terrible and painful and was close to worst case scenario in my mind. But even then, I was ready for it all to be worth it when I would gaze into my baby's little eyes and hold her in my arms afterward... But that never happened. It was all like a bad dream to me. Due to exhaustion from lack of sleep and the physical demands of labor and my IV meds lingering, my mind couldn't grasp the reality of everything that was happening around me after I gave birth. I knew something was wrong because Hailey wasn't placed on my chest, no one was answering me, and my husband's eyes were welling up with tears.

Some days I wonder if my not fully being in the moment because of my meds and what not was a little blessing because it kept me from the raw reality and pain that things were seriously wrong. It really felt like a bad nightmare that I couldn't understand. I was so tired and out of it... I just couldn't understand. For the next two hours, I remained in bed with my eyes closed as the world whirled by around me. I didn't feel any sadness yet...I didn't cry yet... I just remember feeling things weren't right, and I just couldn't understand it.  Part of it was probably me being in shock. The world remained unreal to me, as I saw her for the first time, looking nothing like a newborn baby should as she was wrapped in so much stuff with so many wires and things hooked up to her... That night I spent alone without my husband and daughter as they traveled to another hospital...And I still don't think I felt much sadness yet.

Things didn't start to set in until the next morning. But even then, reality was hard to grasp as I felt my body functioning without my knowledge, in some kind of survival mode.... The first time I think I really felt sad was leaving the hospital... being wheeled out in a wheelchair from the maternity ward without my baby... empty arms...And the pain came and it came hard and hasn't really stopped although a year later, it sure has been healed and slowed.

But really, this is a confession that the birth of my daughter was awful. Labor was difficult and painful, and then everything went wrong when she was born, and then soon after we learned she was going to die. We never expected or imagined anything like this happening to us in a million years... We were like so many other parents who go into the hospital ready to give birth to their son or daughter... But for some reason, we were unlike so many other parents. Our experience didn't end well. And I feel awful in saying the birth of my daughter was awful. What kind of mother says that? But I have to be honest. It was awful. It was a nightmare. But I don't want you to be mistaken. My daughter, she was not awful. And because of her, not what was happening to her or what was wrong with her, but because of her, there are positives in that day... and those are usually what I focus on. But today, I can't keep running from the complete picture that involves the pain. I need to address it. Even if it is just me typing it on my blog.

And in continuing with my trend of giving myself permission to be honest, all those past familiar, haunting thoughts of why me, why did this happen to my baby, why were we robbed of a moment that was supposed to be one of the happiest moment of our lives, why did we have to bury our baby, what makes one set of parents deserving of the blessing of a perfect, healthy baby and another set the pain of giving birth to a baby that was destined to die, and so on... are also creeping back into my life. Not to the extent that they've been there before... But they're coming to surface again. And it's a continual struggle to keep them in check.

(And I just have to say, for the first time, in many months, my tears are back, and I'm crying as I write this.)

I'm sure many of you reading this are wondering, Why do I even remember those awful moments? Why am I even writing about the pain? Doesn't it just make it all worse?

I don't know if I can explain it accurately. Like I've been saying, I need to give myself permission to be honest and real with my grief, and I need to release it. So I'm releasing my emotions in tears and my thoughts by writing these words.  Some days the healing God has given me is unbelievable, and I am in a very good, genuinely happy place, but that doesn't mean that life isn't hard, that there's no more sorrow, etc. The reality is, my baby died and that's part of who I am now; there is pain in that, and there always will be. And I know it's okay to cry and be sad. But I realized, like I've been mentioning, at some point I stopped giving myself permission to feel, to cry, to be honest, to show weakness. I think part of me did it for everyone around me. Everyone has moved on from Hailey's death... They don't want to see me hurting anymore... I don't want them to worry about me... And I don't want to always shout out how sad I am inside because frankly, people just will never care about it as much as I want or need them to... But how can I blame them... They could never possibly understand, and I can't be upset with them for moving on with their lives and not thinking of asking us how we're doing or mentioning Hailey anymore... She wasn't their baby, their daughter, and most of our friends and family never even met her...

All in all, this week is a hard week. Thursday will be a very hard day filled with tears I'm sure. The facts are this: a year ago my baby died, along with her my hopes and dreams and parts of my future and who I am died, and not a day goes by that I don't miss her and long to have her back that I don't imagine what could have been but isn't. No matter how much time passes, a year, five years, ten years, twenty-five years... those facts will always remain even as the world goes on, life continues, and people just think this is part of our past that no longer affects us... Because of all that, I will always have a hole in my heart, something I'm missing, something I'm aching for...  But thankfully, I'm not hopeless. And I know God will continue healing me, but that still doesn't change the facts. I'm a mother without a child struggling to live the life of a childless mother in a world that doesn't understand.

(And on a somewhat random side note, have any of you heard about the new movie with Nicole Kidman, Rabbit Hole, that's coming out soon? Ugh... It's been making little appearances in my life this week. It's a movie about parents who are dealing with the death of their child. I just get this huge sinking feeling and my heart break feels fresh every time it's brought to my attention. This is one movie I don't think I'll ever be able to go see. Why? Because I live it, and I don't need to see someone acting it out. And honestly, I hate thinking about the audience watching it. The obliviously, ignorant audience safe in their seats and in their little bubbles of their lives who will experience this acted grief as 'entertainment' and 'fiction' that they can forget about when they leave the theater when it's my painful reality that I will live with for the rest of my life...But anyway... trying not to get upset about it...)

Okay I clearly need to wrap this post up. Please, if you are a believer in Christ, be praying for my husband and I (and the rest of our family) as we remember Hailey this week and grieve. And for those of you who have already been so kind enough as to share comforting words with me already this week, thank you so much, you have no idea how much you mean to me and are helping me through this week.

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” Romans 12:15

~

Hailey Marie, My sweetie pie, I can't believe it's been almost a year since we last saw each other. I miss you to pieces. I love you more.  God knows how much I love you, and I just pray you know my love for you. I long for the day when we're reunited. Love you forever and always, Your momma

This is one of the last pictures we took of Hailey, the day before she passed away, January 5, 2010.