1 year gone

Our day celebrating/remembering Ember was great. Lunch at Embers American Grille, fairy garden shopping, wish release, balloon release, and cake. Many loved ones celebrated/remembered with us and sent/tagged photos of the candles they burned. I'm so grateful for all the love people show us.

As the day comes to a close emotions start coming more to the surface. This morning I shed a few tears thinking about how there would be no traditional first cake free for all... No cake with the birthday girl pictures and no happy birthday songs. I just couldn't bring myself to allow happy birthday to be sing today. 

The rest of the day was tear free until now. 

I look back, I look forward and I'm not sure what I'm feeling. 

I think I set standards in my head that one year was my allotted time. Now it's time to use my experience and heart break to minister to others. I pray I can use my loss to reach people that can't be reached by others. So now it's time to start taking steps towards that. I hope I'm strong enough. 

If I could send a message to Ember it would go something like this. 

Baby Ember,

I hope in heaven there's some sort of entrance to heaven celebration. 1 year there, eternity to go! 

I sure do wish we could have celebrated your life here with us, although that's mighty selfish of me. 

I hope you know how loved you are/would have been here with all of us. 

There's no way we will ever forget you. Thank you for fighting so hard to stay with me the 7 months your little body could manage. Can't wait to meet you! 

Love you to the moon, 

Your Mama 

Wednesday last year

Wednesday last year was the 5th and so even though tomorrow will be the date we celebrate Embers little life on earth, today is the day that is bringing up emotions in me. 

Scared to let go-

Feeling watched-

Feeling scared-

Pressured to preform- 

Scared of seeing my baby-

Things I never planned on feeling in a delivery situation... Never thought I would be on the brinks of buckling under the pressure to have a c-section... But my pitocin levels were getting to the max and I "wasn't progressing" (even though, of course I was). 

Scared. 

Weak. 

Drained.

Pretty soon (if you've placed yourself back in time a year with me) my lovely midwife/doula will suggest a bath as a last resort before c-section. I'll slide into the bath and into another world. It's dark, I'm finally alone. It's quiet. I can do this. An hour later I'll have my baby before the midwife can properly glove up (ha, not progressing my tushy). 

Still too afraid to see my baby. Asking my mom for details..." What is it???" I ask, A girl! A beautiful girl" "Ember Rose, I say "her name is Ember Rose." my mom encourages me to see my "beautiful baby girl". Perfectly formed the way God intended. (Spitting image of her dad)... 

We spend "all the time we want" with her. We weren't pressured to leave ever but honestly how could hours ever be all the time we need?

Hellos.

Pictures.

Holdings.

Goodbyes.

My Nana (aka great grandma aka Rose) passed away yesterday. My daughter (Ember Rose, named after her) a year ago today (except really the 5th, for some reason the day in the week has been more impact-full in my memories than the "date"). How fitting that our family should honor and remember two such beautiful (polar opposites on the age range scale) souls in the same week. 

I love(d) them both...

<3

Memories of last year

A year ago today I stayed home from church to hang out with my mom, little sister, and baby brother because they were about to make the long trek home. Mom and I got to talking about the baby inside me and how I hadn't felt it much lately. Mom and I both tried to hear the baby's heart and I tried everything to get baby to move. I called my husband whom was at church and he got someone to fill his spot so he could take me to see our midwife just to make sure. I felt silly and like I was going to look like a paranoid first time mom. I prayed the whole way there (45 minute drive) that baby would move and we could call our midwife and cancel. We got to our midwife (she was helping with a class away from her office) so in a back room on the ground she tried to hear with a fetalscope, then with a Doppler. After quite a while she calmly said something like "we should go to the hospital and get an ultrasound, just because I can't find it doesn't mean bad news. Don't worry yet." She called the midwives at the hospital and we all 3 loaded into my car to drive to the hospital (Aaron Shust was playing in the background). We got to the hospital and they also tried to hear with a Doppler then a ultrasound. I'll never ever forget the feeling of hearing the words I so dreaded "I'm sorry, there's no heart beat". Husband and I fell into each others Arms. I remember calling out loud to God, asking Him "why?" and saying "please God no!". 

By Gods careful planing my mom was still in town and was with me as soon as she could be. That night and the days ahead feel like a dream, or a movie I was watching of someone else's life. Sometimes I still don't believe I really experienced it but I do have proof, however limited it may be. 

Working on a shadow box for her in honor of her one year anniversary in Heaven.

Missing kicks

A year ago today I felt my baby move for the last time... I can't remember if it was in the car ride home from her baby shower or at a bonfire that night. I guess I didn't really pay much attention cause I thought there would be so many more to feel. I regret that. I regret not savoring each tiny movement I could. I loved feeling her move, I cherished it. Some how I feel like I could have savored it more had i known it would have been taken so quickly from me. 

If I could tell pregnant women one thing it would be to savor and appreciate those movements and feelings... Only you can feel that baby so intimately. 

Maybe one of the saddest things about an unknown future is the possibility of never feeling that again. 

I can't believe it's almost been a year. 

Reflecting

A year ago today I was anxiously awaiting my baby shower with all my great friends. Mom, little sister, and baby brother drove 18 hours to be a part of it/help host it. We were all tuckered out from a day shopping and preparing what we could. 

It's so weird trying to look back and remember how my "innocent" self felt. Plans and hopes for the future, excitement, nerves... Happiness. 

Ironically I remember being so nervous for everyone else that was pregnant along side me "I hope their pregnancies go well" or "I hope their baby is healthy" I thought those things because; wouldn't I'd be horrible to be pregnant along side so many friends and loose your baby or have something go wrong? Little did I know in just a few short days I'd be the one hearing those life changing words. 

Weird how life goes so opposite of what we "plan" sometimes.

I scrapbooked the few pictures I have of Embers time on earth. Not enough to fill a scrap book or a baby book and yet such a huge part of my life... 

Progress. Or maybe a random "strong" day

It happened again today. I was treated to a pedicure (which was amazing and relaxing) and during her small talk conversation she asked if I had children, I responded with "not living" and she said she was sorry but guess what? I didn't cry! I had a tiny tear in my eye but not even enough to wipe away or try to hide. Then later when she said it was funny I picked the same color I was able to say "ever since my daughter died I've done my nails this color" with out tears. Since this is so close to Embers earthly birth anniversary I was surprised at my ability to do this. 

I'm thankful, though, that I was able to talk about her somewhat without crying. 

Ember toes. 

~ missing my baby ~

Mother's Day

Here I sit on the eve of Mother's Day doing some contemplating. "What is the perfect thing to say to a grieving mama on Mother's Day?" I ask myself and I'm left a little confused myself... You see tomorrow wont be a "happy" Mother's Day for me I won't want to hear that I know. 

I'm sad that this day is tainted, I've always enjoyed showing my mom extra appreciation on Mother's Day, but tomorrow I will be hiding from the world. And that's ok. My phone will be off, I'll not be on the Internet, I'll not be interacting with people much. 

Tomorrow is a "happy" Remembrance Day for me, a "happy" hopeful day for me. Though I'm imagining tomorrow I won't FEEL very happy I know there are babies waiting for me in heaven and there is a hope that there are living children in my future. I can and I will try to be thankful tomorrow. 

So something I would say to women who have lost (baby/children/or their own mom)? Happy remembrance day! 

To women who are having trouble conceiving? Happy hopeful day! 

But above all loss Mamas and women who want to be mamas let's not forget it is a Happy Mother's Day because all of us wouldn't be here if it wasn't for a mama...