Roads Diverged

Today was a hard day.  It was the day I'd been dreading since I came back.  The day of a co-worker's baby shower.  I skipped it.  I couldn't make myself go and listen to the planning and excitement and anticipation that I experienced at my own shower a few months ago.  Before my entire world turned inside out.

I told Jeff I wasn't going, and he looked a little...something.  He was very careful and said, "I just think you need to get back to doing things again."  I was initially hurt and angry, but then I realized that he was trying to help me.  We grieve very differently, men and women.  My limited experience has taught me that men tend to be more logical, and we women are all about emotion.  Jeff has admitted that he's in a better place than me.  He didn't have the physical connection to Emma that I did, and that definitely plays a role in how we grieve.  He is able to look forward to the next chapter and is able to reconcile what has transpired.  I am apprehensively optimistic about the future, but I'm still so angry and bitter about losing my daughter.

And this is the most unfair thing about grief.  As humans, we are such social animals.  We long to share everything with someone else (far too much, in some cases - social media is a blessing and a curse.  Just ask Amanda Bynes).  Grief is the one thing we cannot share with another.  It is the loneliest road we walk, and at a time when we need and yearn for someone else, we often have no one else who feels the same way.  We have to forge our own way, clear our own path.

As I make my way along this winding and seemingly endless road, I have found myself changed.  I know that when (if?) I make it to the end of this road, I will not be the same person I was a few months ago.  I've seen and felt and know too much now.  I know that there will always be one chair too many at my dinner table, one gaping hole in family pictures.  My house will always be a little too quiet.  These are the things I'm learning as I travel this road.  What have you learned on your own journey?

Honoring Emma

I haven't posted in a bit.  I've been a little bitter lately, and I can't put a pin in why.  I went to see a therapist a little over a week ago, and I think it stirred a lot up.  It was good, and I think I'll go again, but it's left me a little raw.

I decided to dig myself out of my sad dark hole today and think of some good things.  It's been important to Jeff and I to honor Emma.  We've been talking about it since we left the hospital.  So far we have donated all of the diapers we received to the Sojourner Truth House here in Milwaukee.  We have had many donations made in Emma's name to Make-a-Wish.  We chose Make-a-Wish for a couple of reasons.  My amazing sister Allison works there, and I know what a great organization they are.  It was important to me to know that the donations being made in her name were going to a good cause, and would make an actionable difference.

We've also been doing small things to just make sure we remember her.  This summer we went up north to visit my sister-in-law, and we released a Chinese lantern in her honor.  It was really beautiful.  We also made a small memorial in our front yard.  My nieces made a beautiful stepping stone with her named carved into it, and a friend of Jeff's gave us a small angel statue and a wind chime that says, "If love alone could have spared you, you would have lived forever."

When we were in Florida last month, we went for a walk on the beach.  It is one of my favorite places, and I know Jeff and I were both looking forward to bringing Emma there.  I was excited to teach her to swim, and play by the pool with her, and Jeff was looking forward to walking on the beach with her and taking her fishing. 

Having her name in the sand made me feel like she was there with us.  I know that whenever I walk on that beach, I will feel like she's with me.  

I'm looking for other ideas to memorialize her, and I am hoping to do more good things in her name.  I want to make sure that she's not forgotten, and that her impact on the world is a large one.

I had to update this post because some of my amazing friends honored our sweet girl in a beautiful way.  They had a star named after her.  Knowing that my baby girl is watching over us warms my heart and makes me smile.  It's just fantastic to know that other people love our little girl as much as we do.

Burden Me

I got a phone call from a very good friend of mine a couple of weeks ago.  He started the conversation by saying, "I know you have a lot going on right now, and I don't want to bother you with this, but I really need your support right now."  He proceeded to tell me that someone close to him (who I also know) is very sick.

I was stunned, and so glad that he called.  I wanted nothing more than to help him, to be there for him and this person in his life.  The support that Jeff and I have received from our friends and family (including this friend) has been nothing short of incredible.  I truly believe that when we are lifted up by our loved ones, they lighten the load of our grief.  This allows us to carry the weight of another's heartache and hardships.

I grieve every day for my daughter.  On days when the weight of it is almost too great to bear, I will receive a phone call, email, or text.  I am reminded that there are people in my life who share in this unbearable sadness, and there is an odd comfort in that knowledge.

I will never "get over" this.  I will always feel a longing for what could have, should have, might have been.  But I would not get out of bed every day if I didn't have hope for the future and a love for my friends and family that drives me.  I am drawn to those who are also hurting, as being able to help them makes me feel useful again.  It makes me feel less alone, so I suppose there's a selfish motivation there.

To this friend - to all of my friends and family - I am here for you.  You have been there for me in the darkest hours of my life; you are why I claw and scrape and dig my way out of the hole that threatens to swallow me when I am overwhelmed with sadness and despair.  I know it hasn't been easy, and I know it hasn't been fun.  I want to help you now.  If I am really as strong as people keep telling me I am, then know that I can handle whatever you have to throw at me.  I'm ready.

Signs 2: Sign Me Up

Well, I asked for it.  I wanted to see a sign from my baby girl, and boy, did she deliver.

On Saturday my mom and I went to Madison to visit our good friend Jen for a lunch date.  We had a great time at lunch, laughing and catching up.  After lunch we decided to go across the street to a cupcake shop.  When we walked in, we noticed that the store was connected to a cute little boutique.  We headed into the boutique, and as we were looking around, a woman came up to me.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry to bother you," she said, pulling off her sunglasses.  "Are those shorts you're wearing orange?  They looked orange from across the street but I couldn't decide."

"Well, yeah, kind of.  They're like a coral-y, orange-y color.  They're from the J. Crew outlet," I said, assuming she was complimenting me (the color was lovely, I must say).

"Hm, okay," she said, "Well, the reason I ask is that I had my prayer group this morning and we were asking for God what we should look for when we're looking for people to pray for, and He said, 'Orange.'  So do you have something going on in your life that you would like for me to pray for?"

My mom put her hands on either side of her face, "Oh my gosh, I just....I have to walk away.  Thank you so much, I just can't..." and she wandered off and left me with a stranger.  Jen looked at me with her eyes wide open and said, "I just can't believe it!"  And then she wandered off to join my mom, leaving me completely unattended (albeit in their sight line) with a stranger.

I looked at the woman, who was looking very confused and a little concerned, and said, "Um, it's interesting that you approached me.  I lost my daughter Emma Dean to a stillbirth back in June, and my husband and I have been talking about starting to try to get pregnant again in the coming months.  I've got a couple of issues that can cause the pregnancy to be complicated, and I'm just kind of nervous and anxious."

She looked completely shocked and said, "Okay, wow.  Wow.  Now, what was your name?  I remember Emma Dean, what was your name?  I'm going to pray for you.  I'd like to pray for you right now, do you mind?"  I shook my head, and she put a hand on my shoulder.

I can't remember the whole prayer because I was in a state of disbelief, but I know that she asked that we be protected from the forces that will cause us to doubt any subsequent pregnancy, and protect the baby in a cocoon.  I know that she said that Emma was safe with God, and He would keep her safe until I get to see her again.

I hugged her and she left, and I walked over to Jen and my mom.  "I can't believe that just happened!  I have chills," said Jen, "Jeff is going to freak out!"

I called Jeff after we left Jen, and he did not freak out.  He was more concerned that I was accosted by a stranger who followed me across the street and into two stores.  We are not particularly religious people, and the whole situation was very odd.  But I don't think the woman was malicious or crazy, she was a devout woman who was doing the work that she felt she had been called to do.  And if that work brought her to me and made her feel like she made a difference, all the better.

I have been asking for a sign for months, and if this isn't one, I don't know what else will be.  Thank you, sweet girl.