Happy New Year!
Neither Jim nor I were sad to see 2009 go. It was a good year. No, honestly. Jim and I got closer than we've ever been before and our marriage evolved into this amazing relationship that we both feel good about every day. We decided to try to have a baby and got pregnant in the first month of trying. Jim got to go on a "business trip" to a school to learn a portion of his job that he could actually do for the rest of his life (whereas the portion he normally does he doesn't want to do at all). I ran the marathon. We paid off all of our debt. I finished the coursework for my Master's and am just lacking 3 of 4 parts of my comprehensive exam to graduate. We both determined what we wanted to do, career-wise, in the future (which determined the other degrees we both want to get in the future). We truly discovered ourselves and each other's personalities and quirks, in a new and wonderful way that helped us to be sure that our little girl and any other future children would admire our marriage and love for each other and be proud of us.
But of course you all know why all of those good things didn't matter so much as of 27 November.
But it's a NEW YEAR! There's NEW HOPE. We are hopeful for a NEW HOME and a NEW FUTURE and a NEW PLACE to live where we won't have a closed off room that makes us sad or an awkward run-in with people who knew we were expecting a baby. If Jim gets his transfer from work we'll be going to a place where we have family nearby and old and new friends alike. As thankful as we have been for our AMAZING support system here, it will be good to be able to call my mom or sisters when I need to talk without worrying about the time difference, and to meet my one of my brothers for lunch or dinner when I need a good distraction, and to call my dad when I need a big bear hug or a kind word. It will be nice to be able to go to the grocery store without worrying about whether or not I will see one of the other 6 people from our childbirth class that had a beautiful, healthy baby. It will be great to be able to go places and not have to worry about the language barrier or the crappy Yen rate or the fact that I can't just go out for good Mexican food whenever I want (it's the important things, people!). It will be wonderful to be able to finally put down some roots, at least for longer than a few years, buy a house, get some dogs, get our car back from storage and figure out what I'm going to do with my life now that I'm not a stay-at-home mom like I had planned.
We'll never get over losing our baby, and we'll never stop grieving losing her and we'll NEVER be able to replace her or forget about her, even if we wanted to (which we will never want). But a NEW YEAR and NEW HOPE and a NEW HOME and a NEW PLACE might help us to be able to move through this tragedy to the side of things where we can start looking toward a NEW NORMAL and figure out how to get along in this NEW LIFE that we thought would include her but doesn't.
So HAPPY NEW YEAR, everyone. I hope you all have an amazing, wonderful and beautiful 2010.
jueves, 31 de diciembre de 2009
viernes, 25 de diciembre de 2009
Merry Christmas?
I hope you've all had a wonderfully merry Christmas. For us, this time of year is so mixed. It's usually our favorite time, but this year we were expecting to share our holiday with our precious little girl and so our celebration went out the window, with no stockings hung or tree erected and decorated, no carols sung or Christmas morning cheer. Instead, we spent the morning together and the afternoon with friends, sharing love and ourselves with each other and with friends and their children and holding back the tears that inevitably fell for the loss of our daughter upon our arrival home. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
It was hard not to think about how we were supposed to be wheeling a stroller up the incline to the base of our friends' apartment building this afternoon, and to not picture our beautiful Angel in the Christmas outfit we had bought for her, or to think about how beautiful she would have been with the Christmas bow I had picked out that would have been clipped to her headband or hat. It was hard not to miss her when I held our friends' children, and saw them with their parents. It was hard to fight back the tears when I realized how much we were missing by her not being with us. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
It was hard not to hear the grief and uneasiness in the voices of our family members this morning who were having a hard time celebrating, especially since we are so far away and it's difficult for them to be able to offer sympathy to us the way they might want, because they feel the loss of their niece or granddaughter or cousin. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
It was hard not to have an emotional reaction at things as simple as soothing the whines and cries of our friends' children, or watching them play, smile, laugh and move - things we never got to see and never will experience with our little girl. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
We were watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone yesterday (in an effort to make some new tradition this year that we could conceivably carry on in future years, we thought we'd start watching all of the HP movies each year between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day - we made it through 3 movies, but not all 6) and in the part where Harry has been caught by Dumbledore gazing into the mirror of Erised again, Dumbledore offers some sound advice to his protegé. He tells Harry, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." This hit home for me because I have been living so much in the last four weeks, rather than incorporating the memory of Angel into the life that must go on without her. While I feel like the world has been moving a million miles per hour and Jim and I are standing still with our hearts in ruins, I know that we must attempt to not just look toward the future and hope and a life that will be okay (but not always great) without our daughter here, but to actually move into that future and hope.
Though it wasn't supposed to be this way and our hearts break daily for our little girl who would have been four weeks old today, we know that she's better off, does not have to live in fear or pain or frustration, and that we can be so thankful for the time we did get with her because 39 weeks is longer than many get with their children. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, we still have a lot to celebrate and a lot for which to be thankful, and her birthday each year will fall in the holiday season to remind us that though she's gone, she lives on in our hearts, we will see her again in Heaven someday, and we have our own personal advocate and guardian Angel up there each moment of our lives. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, we can be thankful that we never had to discipline our sweet girl, be embarrassed by her, show anger or frustration toward her, or argue with her, never had to see her cry, never had to see her sad or disappointed, and never had to show disappointment in her choices, actions or words - we never had to break her heart, and ours breaking is a small price to pay. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, our lives are truly complete with our faith in God and our strong and ever-strengthening marriage, and adding to our family was just a bonus, not something we need to survive. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way and we have holes in our broken hearts where she belongs, she will always be in our hearts, and we can take comfort in all that her short life accomplished in ours - making us strive to be better, smarter, stronger, and helping us to learn to work together better. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, our Angel was wonderful and perfect and amazing, and will always remain that way in our thoughts, memories and hearts. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, it is. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live; we cannot look to what might have been and refuse to focus on what is and what will continue and what will be in the future.
It was hard not to think about how we were supposed to be wheeling a stroller up the incline to the base of our friends' apartment building this afternoon, and to not picture our beautiful Angel in the Christmas outfit we had bought for her, or to think about how beautiful she would have been with the Christmas bow I had picked out that would have been clipped to her headband or hat. It was hard not to miss her when I held our friends' children, and saw them with their parents. It was hard to fight back the tears when I realized how much we were missing by her not being with us. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
It was hard not to hear the grief and uneasiness in the voices of our family members this morning who were having a hard time celebrating, especially since we are so far away and it's difficult for them to be able to offer sympathy to us the way they might want, because they feel the loss of their niece or granddaughter or cousin. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
It was hard not to have an emotional reaction at things as simple as soothing the whines and cries of our friends' children, or watching them play, smile, laugh and move - things we never got to see and never will experience with our little girl. It just wasn't supposed to be this way.
We were watching Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone yesterday (in an effort to make some new tradition this year that we could conceivably carry on in future years, we thought we'd start watching all of the HP movies each year between Christmas Eve and Christmas Day - we made it through 3 movies, but not all 6) and in the part where Harry has been caught by Dumbledore gazing into the mirror of Erised again, Dumbledore offers some sound advice to his protegé. He tells Harry, "It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live." This hit home for me because I have been living so much in the last four weeks, rather than incorporating the memory of Angel into the life that must go on without her. While I feel like the world has been moving a million miles per hour and Jim and I are standing still with our hearts in ruins, I know that we must attempt to not just look toward the future and hope and a life that will be okay (but not always great) without our daughter here, but to actually move into that future and hope.
Though it wasn't supposed to be this way and our hearts break daily for our little girl who would have been four weeks old today, we know that she's better off, does not have to live in fear or pain or frustration, and that we can be so thankful for the time we did get with her because 39 weeks is longer than many get with their children. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, we still have a lot to celebrate and a lot for which to be thankful, and her birthday each year will fall in the holiday season to remind us that though she's gone, she lives on in our hearts, we will see her again in Heaven someday, and we have our own personal advocate and guardian Angel up there each moment of our lives. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, we can be thankful that we never had to discipline our sweet girl, be embarrassed by her, show anger or frustration toward her, or argue with her, never had to see her cry, never had to see her sad or disappointed, and never had to show disappointment in her choices, actions or words - we never had to break her heart, and ours breaking is a small price to pay. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, our lives are truly complete with our faith in God and our strong and ever-strengthening marriage, and adding to our family was just a bonus, not something we need to survive. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way and we have holes in our broken hearts where she belongs, she will always be in our hearts, and we can take comfort in all that her short life accomplished in ours - making us strive to be better, smarter, stronger, and helping us to learn to work together better. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, our Angel was wonderful and perfect and amazing, and will always remain that way in our thoughts, memories and hearts. Though it wasn't supposed to be this way, it is. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live; we cannot look to what might have been and refuse to focus on what is and what will continue and what will be in the future.
jueves, 17 de diciembre de 2009
Home
Our little girl's ashes arrived home today. It's harder than I expected it to be to have her back in this form. I know she's not really in there, that it's just what remains of her human form and that our Angel is safe in Heaven with Jesus and the angels and she's having a blast with her great-grandparents and all of the other kids up there, but it's still hard to see the box that her urn is in (we want to keep it in the box until we have a safe place for it to go) sitting here in our living room.
I have so many incoherent thoughts right now. Primarily I can just think that I am in such pain right now, but I am so thankful I got to have her in my life for as long as I did - it's a lot more than some parents get. She was beautiful and wonderful, and now she gets to live forever in my heart, even if I don't get to hold her again until I get to Heaven.
I have so many incoherent thoughts right now. Primarily I can just think that I am in such pain right now, but I am so thankful I got to have her in my life for as long as I did - it's a lot more than some parents get. She was beautiful and wonderful, and now she gets to live forever in my heart, even if I don't get to hold her again until I get to Heaven.
sábado, 12 de diciembre de 2009
2 Weeks
Our Angel was born two weeks and one day ago. Jim and I are doing okay. Life is so different than we imagined it would be at this point, that we're still in a state of shock sometimes, realizing that she's not going to be here, she's not going to cry from the next room, and we don't get to hold her again. We have had amazing support from local friends, the hospital staff and some of the other agencies in our area, as well as from some of our family members and globally located friends via telephone and Internet. The blessings poured upon us during our time of grief has been amazing and incredibly humbling.
The loss of our Angel is not something I envision us being able to wrap our heads around soon, if ever. I know that the normal we once knew is never going to come back, and that the new normal will not necessarily be comfortable. I know that in 5, 20 or 50 years we may still break down in tears at the drop of a hat or when we remember how it felt to kiss her cheeks or wipe the tears we cried upon her from her brow. But her short life meant so much to us both and our love for her cannot be measured. It's amazing to me how much I can love someone I knew for such a short time. The love I have for my daughter is more amazing and more powerful than I thought possible. It's so different from the love I have for Jim, and yet, so powerful. It's wonderful to me that God has given me the capacity to love so much. Angel's life meant a stronger marriage for Jim and me - a closer bond between us; a confirmation that love comes in all shapes and sizes; faith that is truly blind and a calm that is God-sent in the face of a situation that could cause so much anger and frustration; a drive to be better individually - to achieve great things our children of which our children would be proud; a positivity I didn't know existed inside of me - that hopes for the future, wants only the best, seeks the good in the bad situation; and a spirit that never gives up.
Angel also gave me an even greater appreciation for my amazing and wonderful husband. Without Jim to be by my side during this horrible and devastating loss, I don't think I could make it through. If I could spare him the pain and grief I would in a heartbeat, but I cannot do that, and knowing that he will hold me when I need him, and giving him the same assurance in return gives us each individual strength and makes us stronger as a couple, too.
Thank you all for your love and support, your wonderful letters, cards, calls, e-mails and messages, your thoughts and prayers, the meals that have helped us to leave one thing from our minds each day (sometimes two), the company and laughter when we need distractions, and so much more. We will make it back to where we can function a little more normally eventually, but we appreciate so much knowing that you will all support us and continue to offer care and compassion as long as we are still struggling, no matter how long it takes.
The loss of our Angel is not something I envision us being able to wrap our heads around soon, if ever. I know that the normal we once knew is never going to come back, and that the new normal will not necessarily be comfortable. I know that in 5, 20 or 50 years we may still break down in tears at the drop of a hat or when we remember how it felt to kiss her cheeks or wipe the tears we cried upon her from her brow. But her short life meant so much to us both and our love for her cannot be measured. It's amazing to me how much I can love someone I knew for such a short time. The love I have for my daughter is more amazing and more powerful than I thought possible. It's so different from the love I have for Jim, and yet, so powerful. It's wonderful to me that God has given me the capacity to love so much. Angel's life meant a stronger marriage for Jim and me - a closer bond between us; a confirmation that love comes in all shapes and sizes; faith that is truly blind and a calm that is God-sent in the face of a situation that could cause so much anger and frustration; a drive to be better individually - to achieve great things our children of which our children would be proud; a positivity I didn't know existed inside of me - that hopes for the future, wants only the best, seeks the good in the bad situation; and a spirit that never gives up.
Angel also gave me an even greater appreciation for my amazing and wonderful husband. Without Jim to be by my side during this horrible and devastating loss, I don't think I could make it through. If I could spare him the pain and grief I would in a heartbeat, but I cannot do that, and knowing that he will hold me when I need him, and giving him the same assurance in return gives us each individual strength and makes us stronger as a couple, too.
Thank you all for your love and support, your wonderful letters, cards, calls, e-mails and messages, your thoughts and prayers, the meals that have helped us to leave one thing from our minds each day (sometimes two), the company and laughter when we need distractions, and so much more. We will make it back to where we can function a little more normally eventually, but we appreciate so much knowing that you will all support us and continue to offer care and compassion as long as we are still struggling, no matter how long it takes.
martes, 1 de diciembre de 2009
Blessings
We have been amazed and astounded at the outpouring of love and support from family and friends. In addition, the people who have helped to take care of us deserve special recognition. We are so thankful for the wonderful blessing of these people coming into our lives, even despite the horrible situation which brought them here. To protect the identities of these people on such a public blog, I will use pseudonyms. If they ever read it, though, they will know who they are.
Lola - Thank you for staying with us through the whole labor process, extending your already very long night by several hours to be in the OR with us, and taking such amazing care of our little girl after the whole ordeal. Thank you for asking to be our grief counselor so that we could have a wonderfully loving and friendly face to turn to in our time of need.
Dr. Taft - Thank you for doing everything in your power to make sure both me and the baby were safe for as long as possible. Thank you for helping us through the beginning of the grieving process and for grieving with us the loss of our little girl. Thank you for not deserting us after the surgery and being such a wonderful support for both my physical and our emotional needs.
Dr. Ranger - Thank you to you and your pediatric team for working so hard to bring our little girl back. Your efforts helped us to know that love for a child is not limited to her parents, but to all who are involved in her well-being.
Mr. Dericson - Thank you for your support in helping with the coordination with the mortuary affairs office. Although I have known you for awhile, your compassion never ceases to amaze me, and your support through this situation is amazing.
Mr. Vachan - Thank you for taking such good care of our little girl in the mortuary affairs office and the morgue. Loving and caring people like you help the families of those who have passed on know that their loved ones are being supported, cared for, and respected. You are a wonderful friend, and though I never hoped to know you professionally, you are a very respectable professional in a very difficult job.
The Runners - Thank you for embracing us with both arms. Thank you for everything. The Runners brought two different sets of bouquets to the hospital, set up meals for us well past the middle of December, provided for us without invading us, offered compassion, love, support and so much more.
The Clay family - Thank you for taking care of the little things. From offering to go to the grocery store for us to offering us rides back and forth from difficult appointments, you have embraced us with open arms taking care of the big, small and in between. Thank you for you care and for being more like family than friends.
The White family - Thank you for visiting us at the hospital, acting as a liason on our behalf with so many offices and agencies, and for always offering a helping hand or an ear to listen. Without you in our corner things might be much more difficult for us.
To everyone else who has embraced us and may or may not fall into one of these categories - we appreciate all that is being done to support us. The love we've received is more than overwhelming. I know that so many of you walked through the pregnancy journey with us and mourn the loss of our Angel as well. We are beyond blessed to have such a wonderful support system, especially with our families so far away physically. We are thankful for the Internet support system as well, formed by family and friends all over the world. Knowing that prayers and thoughts are being lifted up on our behalf from locations around the world is such a blessing and such a comfort. Thank you all for everything you do, big or small.
Love, Jim and Tara
Lola - Thank you for staying with us through the whole labor process, extending your already very long night by several hours to be in the OR with us, and taking such amazing care of our little girl after the whole ordeal. Thank you for asking to be our grief counselor so that we could have a wonderfully loving and friendly face to turn to in our time of need.
Dr. Taft - Thank you for doing everything in your power to make sure both me and the baby were safe for as long as possible. Thank you for helping us through the beginning of the grieving process and for grieving with us the loss of our little girl. Thank you for not deserting us after the surgery and being such a wonderful support for both my physical and our emotional needs.
Dr. Ranger - Thank you to you and your pediatric team for working so hard to bring our little girl back. Your efforts helped us to know that love for a child is not limited to her parents, but to all who are involved in her well-being.
Mr. Dericson - Thank you for your support in helping with the coordination with the mortuary affairs office. Although I have known you for awhile, your compassion never ceases to amaze me, and your support through this situation is amazing.
Mr. Vachan - Thank you for taking such good care of our little girl in the mortuary affairs office and the morgue. Loving and caring people like you help the families of those who have passed on know that their loved ones are being supported, cared for, and respected. You are a wonderful friend, and though I never hoped to know you professionally, you are a very respectable professional in a very difficult job.
The Runners - Thank you for embracing us with both arms. Thank you for everything. The Runners brought two different sets of bouquets to the hospital, set up meals for us well past the middle of December, provided for us without invading us, offered compassion, love, support and so much more.
The Clay family - Thank you for taking care of the little things. From offering to go to the grocery store for us to offering us rides back and forth from difficult appointments, you have embraced us with open arms taking care of the big, small and in between. Thank you for you care and for being more like family than friends.
The White family - Thank you for visiting us at the hospital, acting as a liason on our behalf with so many offices and agencies, and for always offering a helping hand or an ear to listen. Without you in our corner things might be much more difficult for us.
To everyone else who has embraced us and may or may not fall into one of these categories - we appreciate all that is being done to support us. The love we've received is more than overwhelming. I know that so many of you walked through the pregnancy journey with us and mourn the loss of our Angel as well. We are beyond blessed to have such a wonderful support system, especially with our families so far away physically. We are thankful for the Internet support system as well, formed by family and friends all over the world. Knowing that prayers and thoughts are being lifted up on our behalf from locations around the world is such a blessing and such a comfort. Thank you all for everything you do, big or small.
Love, Jim and Tara
Suscribirse a:
Comentarios (Atom)