Happy Birthday to All the Angel Babies

Just thinking of my Taybear and wanted to wish all parents a happy birthday to their children and their angel babies. 

As much as I wanted to get this blog up and going, it just doesn't seem to be happening. Hence my long disappearances. Not sure if I will keep up the blog or not.

What does it look like in heaven?
Is it peaceful? Is it free like they say?
Does the sun shine bright forever?
Have your fears and your pain gone away?

'Cause here on earth it feels like everything good is missing since you left
And here on earth everything's different
There's an emptiness

Oh-oh, I,
I hope you're dancing in the sky
And I hope you're singing in the angels' choir
I hope the angels know what they have
I bet it's so nice up in heaven since you've arrived
- Dani & Lizzy "Dancing in the Sky"

I'll always be here for anyone to talk to. Stay strong, you amazing parents!

Coming on Three Years: Wound's Still Fresh

Hi guys. Things have been so crazy around here. Working two jobs, planning a wedding, and just trying to stay busy. I miss the blog. Really wish I had more time to write in it.

July 28th will be such a hard day. Three years ago on July 26th, I lost Taylor. My child. She slowly slipped away from us before we really even knew she was there. It had been an ongoing process for about two weeks. July 28th was when the bleeding ended.

Only a year later, we helped our beloved ferret, Secret Agent Seely Booth, go to the Rainbow Bridge.

Even as I write this, my eyes well with tears. Two to three years feels like yesterday. I miss them both with all my heart, but I am trying to come to peace again. I've realized over the last three years that grief does really go in specific stages. Not for me, at least. In my experience, it was sadness, denial, and anger for a very long time. Then it turned to acceptance that they are gone.

I always thought 'acceptance' meant that things would get better; easier. Things would be able to move forward and I wouldn't still be angry or sad. That's not the case. Three years from Taylor and two from Booth, and I still find myself so angry. Angry at myself, sometimes angry at God. Of course I still find myself sad, as well.

I suppose, in a way, it is easier this year. I've not spent every day crying, or every day constantly thinking about them. They both are always with me, and I do think about them nearly every day. However, I don't dwell on their passing. Despite the improvement, I wouldn't call this easy. Easier, yes.

This year, I need to do something really special for the both of them. I don't know what. Though, I will post about it when I figure it out.

Thanks all, and hang in there. I may not be active, but I am here for you. Leave a comment!


A Few Helpful Books

Hey. Since I last posted, I decided to try and help myself more. I went to LifeWay Christian Store (I am religious, but these can help for anyone who believes in something, or nothing, else) near my work and looked at their grief section. It was so pitiful and tiny. They had less than twenty books in all, including all types of grief. The only books specifically for children were four. Two of those were specifically about losing kids (2+). I had hoped for another memorabilia item to add to Taylor's memory box, but they only had five items relating to grief or mourning.

I settled on the two remaining grief books. The first one I read was helpful. The woman had a miscarriage, then went on to have a risky pregnancy with twins. She then has a pregnancy which the doctors urged her to terminate because the child, if surviving in the womb, will not have a chance when born.

No, it is not directly relatable, however her grief helps me to realize I am not alone. The book does hold many scriptures, but mostly it talks about her experiences with the grief and how she has learned to cope and remember her child.

This book is "I will Carry You" by Angie Smith.

The second book, I have yet to read, but seems like I could relate to it more. I've skimmed the pages and it looks like it may be helpful. Once I've read it, I will post a review.

"Grieving the Child I Never Knew" by Kathe Wunnenberg

Stay strong. You are not alone.

Tough Months


Once again I apologize for inactivity. It has been a rough and crazy few months. The holidays were exceptionally hard for me this past year for an unknown reason. Then Taylor's 2nd birthday was this past March 2nd. That was another hard one for me. Despite being busy, I've been pretty lost when it comes to giving advice on dealing with a miscarriage as I've been in deep grieving again myself.

Today, I'm still uncertain if I'm able to give the advice you need. But I wanted to update and explain why I've disappeared. Currently, I do not feel able to give advice when the advice isn't currently helping. I suppose that happens sometimes during grief, though.

I think what has brought the grief up so hard again is that Dill proposed last Christmas Day, I've been planning our wedding the last several months, we had our engagement photos done, we are planning on moving into a house in the next two years, and we have even talked about trying to start a family a year or two after the wedding.

Wonderful and amazing changes. However, sometimes it feels like all I am doing is forgetting about my lovely Taylor. I know I could never forget about her, but this planning on starting a family and doing all of this 'in order' feels like we never had a family yet. We never had Taylor.

I miss her. So much. Every day. It's hard sometimes to imagine having another child without her being here. It almost makes me feel guilty for wanting another child. For being excited to experience the full pregnancy. To be so happy on the day of our wedding and birth of our child. Though I have to remind myself Taylor is watching her Mommy, and wouldn't want me to be so sad. I try to remember to go along with my life as if she were here. Never forget her. Celebrate her.

This is why I celebrate her birthdays. I try to enjoy the holidays by remembering and honoring her. It's the only way I know how to get through this. It's how I know I would want my family to continue without me, and surely my lovely little one would want the same for her Dad and I. Remember that. Continue your life normally, but celebrate them as if they are physically here. It feels wonderful to honor them and celebrate them.

Eventually, when we have another child, we will throw actual parties with close family for Taylor. This way our second child will never forget how important their sister is. A cake, maybe some decorations, and just enjoy the day together.

I hope this helps anyone who needs it. Remember, I love comments. Ask questions. Request a post on something you need help with or are wondering about. I'll try to post through my grief. It's what I tell you guys to do, so I should follow my own advice! I'll leave you with a few more pictures of Dill and I. Happiness is still possible during grief.

Grief and Recovery

September 17th, my four year anniversary with Dill, I had surgery on my ankle to fix a year-long work-related injury. You know, that's wonderful and all. I'm sure it will help my quality of life once I'm healed and finished with physical therapy.

Right now?

Right now it sucks. I'm laid up in the apartment, no work for four months now (two more to go). I've just gotten to where I can drive myself around short distances. And my best friend from the teen years who lost her wonderful dad a couple months ago called.

I sit here at 2:30am with no reason to sleep now and get up later in the day. My daughter is dead. She is gone. And most people won't acknowledge that she ever existed. Some say I lost nothing. Nobody seems to get that I lost every part of myself the day I realized what I lost.

The funny thing about my miscarriage is that I didn't 'know' she was gone. It took me two months later and high on sleep medication to feel the full effect. I was in bed, trying to sleep. All of a sudden, I felt my stomach and I felt incredibly alone. Two months had gone by since I had bled so heavily for over two weeks. Since I had gone to the doctor and been told 'It was likely a miscarriage. But do you really want to dwell on that? Go home and pretend it was just a weird period."

I walked out of the room and down the swirling hallway to Dill. He sat at his computer as I leaned onto the futon. I whispered, "I need you", before bursting into some of the most heart-wrenching sobs I've ever created. It was then that I knew what I lost. I didn't lose my pregnancy. I didn't have a miscarriage. My child died. My child died

If you go and tell someone your child died, they will exhibit so much sympathy the world will shift on it's axis. If you tell them you lost your baby, they still show similar horror and sympathy. If you say you lost your pregnancy, they seem to expect you mean after the first trimester and feel pretty upset for you. But if you tell them you had a miscarriage...they might say they are sorry, then turn to you and expect the conversation to be over. A miscarriage is just a passing thought. People don't seem to understand a person died. A child died. A parent is now questioning what they are. Are they still a parent if they have no living child?

And so when my friend Que called me to talk about her father who passed...I couldn't help but continuously wonder why I was doing this. Never once has she comforted me over Taylor. Anytime I brought Tay up, she would change the subject. And here I was comforting her. Listening to her story, her experience, her sobs. Whereas she let me say I had a miscarriage before changing the subject.

Yeah. Recovery sucks. No, I'm not okay. But that's okay. I'm learning that you don't always have to be okay. I'm learning that despite it being 2 1/2 years since her passing, it's perfectly fine for me to not be okay sometimes.

I can't tell you how much I miss Taylor. Words do not express to anyone how painful and lonely this is. But I do. I miss Taylor. I love Taybear so much, and I miss her. And as much as it sucks and hurts...

It's okay.