Over the years, people who have known me and known Cora’s story have in various ways complimented my “strength.”

I used to hate it.  Mostly because at first I was hanging on by my fingernails and felt a hair’s breadth away from utterly falling apart.  It was my faith that got me through that.  My faith in a Savior who was holding me up so I wouldn’t fall.   His strength was the reason I was standing.

That’s still mostly true.  But, I’ve regained my equilibrium so to speak.  I can go about my day, dealing with things as they come without really needing supplication from the higher power.  I guess I have become stronger, in a way.  My hope has become stronger.

It is a belief in my church that parents will be reunited with children lost, from the state that they left and we will be able to finish raising them.  So I can’t help but picture getting this bitty baby back, and experiencing all that I missed out on.

I hope for that.  A hope so strong it keeps breath in my lungs and my heart beating.

I cannot wait until that day.  It’ll be glorious beyond belief.

Sandy Hook.  I know I don’t need to explain.  I’ve had a roller coaster of emotions, really.  Unlike most people, I didn’t react with more worry sending Erin to school.  I didn’t hug my children any closer than normal.  Because really, I have already done that every day from the moment they were each born.  I have already had the realization that life is short, and that you should appreciate every moment, and your child can be taken in a moment.  I can’t be any more worried than I already am.

What’s been hard for me, though, is the parents.  I’ve actively avoided reading any statements or seeing pictures of the parents.  Because when I think about them, I think about the moment I was told my daughter had died.  Thankfully, her death was peaceful.  Thankfully, she did not die full of fear, or in pain.

But that doesn’t mean that it didn’t hurt me.

I’ve gotten good at ignoring my pain over the past 6 1/2 years.  It’s not all encompassing.  I’ve learned out to let my joy stand side-by-side and, most of the time, shine brighter.  But there are still moments when I feel it.  When I really feel it.  And then (more…)

I joined JustMommies forums (specifically the pregnancy loss/stillbirth section) 2 months after Cora died.  So it’s been just about 6 1/2 years now.  And in those years I have met hundreds of women who have gone through the same thing as me.  It’s heartbreaking, but at the same time I have made so many wonderful friends through this shared experience.

One of them is Calypso’s mom. ((I refer to her as Calypso’s mom instead of by name, because really, we babyloss moms don’t often get to be identified as the mothers of our babies who aren’t with us, so it’s nice to hear sometimes))

Anyway one of my favorite things about having babyloss friends is that Cora gets remembered, (just as I remember their babies).  It’s good to have people do things for her.  And Calypso’s mom has a little tree for Calypso, decorated with ornaments in memory of Calypso’s friends.  And she did one for Cora.

I love that it’s simply her name, because really, her name is perfect.

So, Calypso’s mommy, thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Last year I decided that I should pick a girl Cora’s would-be age and get a gift for her in memory of Cora, so I could feel like I was buying a present for her.  Of course, by the time I decided that it was too close to Christmas and the trees weren’t available any more.

And this year, I can’t FIND one.  Maybe they’re waiting until December to put them out?

Anyway, our church Christmas party is tomorrow, and they’re doing a toy drive for The Action Center, so I decided I could buy a toy for Cora and donate it there.

Standing in the toy aisle I started to cry.  NONE of the toys seemed right, or good enough.  After staring at it all, I realized it was because I wanted to buy a toy for Cora, not for someone else in memory of Cora.  So I settled on something, left sad because in the end, I was robbed of the chance to buy Christmas gifts for my child. I was left forever wondering what she would want for Christmas.  And it hurts.

*sigh*

We put up Christmas yesterday.  I’ve posted about Cora’s stocking before, but this time was a little different.  Erin was helping me, and she’s a lot more aware about things this year.  She asked me what Santa would put in Cora’s stocking, and why there were envelopes in it.  So I told her that Santa puts something to the family in the stocking, because she can’t play with her own toys so it doesn’t make sense to put something for her in it, but he doesn’t want Cora to be forgotten.  I of course teared up.  I always do.  And she hugged me as she always does.

I hope that seeing me grieve for her sister not only shows her how deeply I love her sister, and therefore her, but that grief is okay.  That you don’t have to cover it up, and that it’s okay to feel.  Mostly, though, I hope she never ever has to know what it feels like to grieve for her child.

I find holidays hard.  And I don’t think I’m ever going to get over it.  I became pregnant with Erin in October of 2006, about 5 months after Cora died, so I was pregnant through Cora’s would-be first holiday season.  But honestly, I found no comfort in it because I knew from experience that pregnancy was no guarantee of a baby, and I was skirting the edge of real terror at any given moment.

But even being pregnant didn’t change the fact that that Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas I was supposed to have a baby, not be expecting one.

Holidays change when you have a child, and I knew that from hearing others speak of it (and I just knew that logically, it would be true since having a child changes everything else).  But a child’s death also changes holidays, in a way that you can’t really expect.

I feel like I say this every time, but I truly do appreciate having my living children to celebrate with.  However I’m missing one.  And I always will be missing one.

Yesterday, my daughter’s elementary school had (more…)

Twin Grief

The last month and a half have been hard grief-wise.  The twins were due August 19th.  When you consider my family history of premature births and the fact that twins are often early anyway, it’s pretty safe to say I’d have two babies that were more than a month old already.

Reminders seem to be everywhere.  My sister-in-law was due 12 days before me.  She had her little one three weeks ago today.  I also have several friends that have had babies in the last 3 weeks.  While I love my niece (and my friend’s kids), it is going to be extremely tough as all these babies start reaching milestones and reminding me of what Kat and Sam should be learning to do at that point.

Speaking of reminders, owls.  I can’t go ANYWHERE without seeing an owl.  When I first found out that I was pregnant a fifth-time, I joined a due-date-club (DDC).  The DDC referred to the babies as their “Owlets” until they found out genders.  Every owl thing I see is a reminder that I should have two owlets.  The most recent “owl sighting” was at the Renaissance Faire.

Chris and I have gone to the Faire every single year since we met.  (We even got married there!)  Yesterday was our trip for the season.  It was harder than I expected.  Never with any of the other lost pregnancies did I feel a sense of grief and longing while there.  I think it was because the twins were due so close to the opening of Faire that it was one of my early thoughts in pregnancy.  I looked forward to taking two tiny babies with us.  It didn’t help that I spotted newborn twins there which just served as an “in your face” moment.

Lastly, school.  School starts tomorrow.  With school starting I got to thinking about how things would be if we had all six babies alive and well.  (Now of course I know that never would have happened.  We wouldn’t have had Gwen so soon after Dominic.  Wouldn’t have tried for Jill if we had two/three already.  Never would have had five pregnancies before a vasectomy.)  Anyway, if we had all 6 here:  Dominic would be homeschooling for Kindergarten this year.  I’d be trying to get Gwen to do Kinder too since there was only 9 months between their due dates.  If Aiden was at all interested, he’d be doing preschool at home.  Jill might possibly be potty-training at 22 months old.  And we’d have two newborns.  INSANE!

Trying to Conceive

Since losing the twins I haven’t been at all willing to even consider trying.  The whole experience was so traumatizing.  The recovery, so horrible.  The mere thought of (more…)

I don’t know why first birthdays are so hard.  This is the 4th time I’ve done a first birthday, the 3rd with a living child. We did cupcakes & presents with friends today for Allison.  Her birthday isn’t actually until Monday, but today worked best.  Anyway, I was totally in the moment while IN the moment.  But for the rest of today, looking at the pictures, part of my heart breaks over again.

Instead of this



I had this. (more…)

Both Erin and Patrick love to cook with me, and I have often wondered if Cora would have too.  It’s made me sad, on occasions, that I spend so much time in the kitchen and there’s nothing in there of her.  Well, I found a way.  I decided a while back that since I have such and enormous window sill behind my kitchen sink, I should utilize it and do an herb garden.  I bought 4 different kinds, and then went looking for pots (something I should have done beforehand, since I ended up having to buy one).  Anyway, sitting empty in the garage was the angel pot that I bought to put a flower in for Cora.  You may remember it from earlier posts

Well, now it has oregano in it, and she watches me while I’m doing the dishes.