Showing posts with label anencephaly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anencephaly. Show all posts

Friday, November 20, 2015

Celebrating Lily

Today is a hard day to remember, even more so then the day Lily was born. One year ago, I got my last glimpse of Lily in this life. We prepared for a lot, but I assure you, absolutely nothing can prepare you for when the casket closes and you know will never dress your beautiful girl in any more outfits. You will never get to braid her hair or teach her to play softball. You will never see her become a woman, a bride, a mother. Every dream you had for child closes with the casket. 

I'm trying so hard to keep hold of the peace I felt on her birthday. So I share with you her beautiful birthday. It was such a special day and through it all, I felt so much peace from my baby girl.

Loving Lily is the greatest accomplishment of my life. I'm never one to brag on myself, but giving Lily life is the only thing I've ever done that I know with 100% of my heart I did it right. But now here I am one year later and I can't stop the selfish thoughtsI want her here. I want to protest the over the top, extravagant first birthdays. I want to dress her in something simple and sweet. I want to hold her and kiss her and reminisce about all the beautiful moments and milestones she should have made it through this past year. I miss her, and not because it's her birthday. I miss her because it's every. single. day. Every single day for the past year, that I have had to figure out how to live this life without her. I haven't figured it out yet and I honestly don't think I ever will. 

I thank God every day for the gift she is to my life. Deep grief is a sign of deep love. I will spend the rest of my days missing her and longing to hold her, but this one day of the year, her first birthday, I set aside the ache in my heart and I celebrated my perfect and precious girl

Because she is the greatest gift of my life. 

The night before her birthday we went to decorate her grave. Ted picked out balloons for her and a stuffed animal. He kept saying, "Happy Birthday Lily!" Some of the decorations my friends had left the week before were still there and it made me smile.







I woke up the morning of her birthday feeling so much peace and I was so grateful. I haven't felt peace like that since she was in my arms one year ago. I know it was Lily. I know she wanted me to enjoy her birthday. 

We went to Mass that was offered for Lily. My sister, brother-in-law, and friends came to celebrate with us. It was so wonderful to start our day surrounded by people who were praying for us. 





Then it was Jason, Ted, and me off on a family day. We celebrated with donuts and then spent a wonderful morning at the zoo. We did all the fun stuff. We fed the giraffes and went for a camel ride. We went on the train and pet the sting rays. Ted really loves seeing all the animals. Feeding the giraffes was definitely a highlight of our day!













We came home to flowers, treats and gifts. My dear friend Nellie took pictures at Lily's funeral. She gave me a book full of pictures I had not seen. I didn't cry all day until I saw this book. Words cannot even describe what it was like to have new pictures of Lily. It is truly a priceless gift. My cousin Emily always makes a personalized ABC book for 1st birthdays and she made one for Lily too! We are so grateful for the outpouring of love, prayers, and thoughtful gifts. It helped make her day so special.






Jason and I went out to dinner just the two of us. We shared our memories of Lily's birth. We toasted our daughter and our family. My love for him is more than I ever imagined. He is the most sensitive and loving husband and father. It breaks my heart he has to miss his daughter at all.

Jason has also been working on a project for Lily (me) and it is finally complete! He's been working for months to build this beautiful trunk! I've been wanting something to house all of Lily's memories. I kept showing Jason trunks I wanted to buy and then he told me he wanted to make it. More love went into making this piece of furniture than anything money could ever buy. I am so grateful for his commitment to our family and his immense love for his daughter. Isn't it just beautiful?!







We ended Lily's birthday with pumpkin ice cream with Ted. Again, the day was filled with so much peace and so much love for our sweet girl. We miss you so much Lily girl and we would have given anything to celebrate this day with you. Thank you for showering us with your love and peace. We felt it baby girl...all day long. 


Sunday, November 1, 2015

Lily's month

As I said before, when we received Lily's diagnosis, I feared every day she would come early. I remember being so happy when we made it to October, we made it to her birth month...and then all of a sudden it was October 31st and she made it quite known she was not ready. I wasn't either, but honestly, I was never going to be ready.

And almost one year later...I'm still not ready for this. I'm still not ready to live the rest of this life without her.

We are painfully aware every single day of all the milestones we are missing. If you have kids, you know. If you've filled a baby book, you know how overstuffed it should be right now...overflowing with all of your child's firsts. Her first roll over, first scoot, first crawl. Her first foods, teeth, and car rides. Her first smile,  her first giggle and words...her first "mama" and "dada".

All of these firsts that we've missed are so painful and heart wrenching, but the one I'm really not ready for is coming up fast. In 11 days it will be Lily's first birthday and I'm really not ready for that. I feel the world nudging me, telling me "it's been a year, you should be better now." While it feels like eternity since she's been in my arms, the pain and raw emotions feel very fresh. This wound hasn't even began to scab over.

Somehow, by the grace of God, we made it back here. Back to her birth month, one year later. I know people will want it to get easier for us from here on out. After all, we've already had our first everythings without her. We've had a first Thanksgiving, Christmas, our birthdays, and trips to Iowa, but it doesn't feel that way. Not even a little bit. It all still feels like the first day she was missing from my arms. It feels like that every day.

This morning I woke up dreading this month. This month that I once loved because it almost finally feels like Fall. A month that reminds us of all that we have to be thankful for. A month that begins with recognizing all the wonderful saints of our Church. The month I finally held my daughter in my arms after waiting so long.

But it's also the month I had to hand her over to a stranger. The month where I watched my husband smile through tears as he held his little girl. The month where Ted peeked over to get his only glimpse of his sister in this life. The month where the casket closed much too quickly. A month where I pretend to be thankful for all these precious moments, but truthfully I'm screaming inside at how unfair it all really is. 

And for the rest of my life, a month where I will be decorating a grave instead of a cake. A month where I will be picking out flowers instead of a birthday dress. A month where I only get to remember the few firsts I got instead of watching new ones each year. A month where I will be celebrating my daughter's first birthday without her in my arms...and everyone after.

How is it possible to ever be ready for that? 






Tuesday, October 27, 2015

Lily's Due Date

I took Bradley classes and read all the books. I know how truly insignificant a due date is. I also know how unlikely it is for a baby to actually be born on their due date (even though Ted only missed his by 26 minutes!)

I also know I never expected for Lily to even make it to her due date. But she did. And she made it for two more weeks.

One year ago, in the moment, the stress and anxiety was almost paralyzing. I didn't want to see anyone. I didn't want to do anything or leave my house. The word "normal" left my vocabulary. I had no idea what normal was anymore. I was anxious and afraid, but also filled with joy whenever I thought about holding Lily in my arms. The intensity and mix of emotions was overwhelming to say the least.

I never thought we would make it to our 40 week appointment, but we did. And then I was so frustrated. I truly thought she would be born by then and I was quick to ask about induction. Our midwife was amazing though. She reminded me right then and there that this was our time with Lily. She reminded me that Lily was still very much alive and she was letting me know every day how strong she was. She told me to do what we could to cherish this time with her. It was nothing that we imagined, but that didn't matter. We still had the opportunity to make the most of it.

The most amazing part of those last two weeks is that I got to spend them all with Jason and Ted. It was amazing to wake up in the morning and take an early walk with my husband to Starbucks. We spent a lot of mornings going to Mass and praying together. In those two weeks, I loved my husband so much more than I ever knew possible. He took care of me, he took care of our family. 

My mom was here to take care of us and Ted. My sweet friend Mandy came from Iowa just to spend time with me. We celebrated my dad's birthday. We went to baseball games and took Ted to the zoo. We dressed him up for Halloween and passed out candy. We played at the park. Jason and I sat by our fire and drank hot chocolate sharing the most intimate moments of our journey with Lily. 

We cried...a lotWe laid in bed and watched Lily dance and twirl all night long. We listened to her heartbeat...strong and steady as always. How was it possible that she would not be that strong when she was born? 

I find myself slipping back into that foggy haze of one year ago. I was living solely on grace and prayers. There's no other explanation for how we made it through those last few days/weeks leading up to her birth. For those two weeks I woke up every day eager to meet my daughter, but also fearing it would be the day I would say goodbye.

Some days it's hard to believe almost one year has passed. Other days I wonder if I will finally wake up from this dream I've been living for the last 12 months because honestly, most of the time, it doesn't even seem possible that I am living without my daughter.

I miss you Lily. More than I ever imagined possible. I miss your kicks. I miss seeing you dance in my belly sweet girl. I can't believe you are almost one. I would give anything to hold you or to feel you inside of me again. Every single day...every minute, every second, I miss you baby girl.

 40 weeks :)














Wednesday, October 14, 2015

Eleven months

Almost a year ago I wrote this, a letter to Ted about his baby sister Lily. It was one of the hardest letters I ever had to write. I told him how sorry I was that we would not get to keep his sister. I told him if love were enough we would. One year later, 11 months without Lily, and the ache in my heart, more than for myself, is for Ted missing his little sister. 

It's just not supposed to be this way.

My sweet Ted,

In two weeks you will be 2 1/2 and in one month Lily will be one. One year old in Heaven. When I dreamed of having children, I dreamed of you being best friends with your siblings. All close in age, one right behind the other in school. I dreamed of you sharing a room and keeping each other up at night. I dreamed of you sneaking out of your room to look for presents on Christmas Eve. I dreamed of you smothering her with sweet kisses. I dreamed of her eagerly trying to keep up with you. I dreamed of you protecting her, looking out for her, always with her best interest in mind. I dreamed of you sharing your hopes, your wishes, and your dreams with your sister. 

I never dreamed of this.

I never dreamed of a world where I was so torn between Heaven and Earth. I never dreamed of world where I could delight in the sweet little boy you are becoming, and all the while have tears streaming down my face yearning for your sister. I never dreamed my most cherish picture of you and Lily would be of you holding a photograph of her. I never dreamed you would never get to hold her. I never dreamed you would have to rely on our memories to know your sister. I never dreamed of celebrating your sister's first birthday in a cemetery. 

Almost 18 months ago, all of these dreams shattered right before my eyes. In the blink of an eye, the world I never dreamed of became my reality. Ted, I am so sorry. I am so sorry that you do not have your sister here with you. I am so sorry that you never got to hold her. I am so sorry that I could not save her. And if love were enough, I could have. But I want you to know more than anything that if I could do it all over again I would in a heartbeat, and I wouldn't change a thing.

Because I also never dreamed Heaven could kiss Earth. I never dreamed I could feel such tremendous grace as I held a perfect soul in my arms. I never dreamed that my love for my children could be this intense. I never dreamed I could love your dad so much through this grief. I never dreamed that I would truly see Jesus in the face of my daughter and my son. I never dreamed that you would have your very own personal saint to pray for you in Heaven. I never dreamed that my heart could simultaneously beam with pride and be swallowed with heartache at the sound of you saying her name. I never dreamed I would have such a clear vision of Lily dancing in the Resurrection. 

I never knew that grieving so intensely is a sign of loving so immensely.

One year later and I have another song for you Ted. I listen to this song and I think of the story you will get to tell because Lily is your sister. You will get to tell a story where grace wins every time you choose life. You will get to tell your own story, that even though you may not remember it, a story of the day Heaven reached down and touched the earth and your sister changed us all. I pray every day that this moment will resonate in your soul and that it will carry you through every tough time you may face. 

I love you Ted and I am so sorry you do not get to grow up with your sister, at least not the way I ever dreamed.

Love, Mom
If I told you my story
You would hear Hope that wouldn't let go
And if I told you my story
You would hear Love that never gave up
And if I told you my story
You would hear LIfe, but it wasn't mine

If I should speak then let it be
Of the grace that is greater than all my sin
Of when justice was served and where mercy wins
Of the kindness of Jesus that draws me in
Oh to tell you my story is to tell of Him

This is my story, this is my song
"My Song"