Two years

Today is two years since you went away. Watching the leaves change makes my chest get tighter and it feels like I cannot breath. It’s crazy how powerful my mind is.  We have gotten so much stronger since the day you slipped away but this time of year, today and Tuesday bring back the hard pain. The pain that you can feel stealing air from my lungs, the pressure in my chest, and sadness in my heart growing.

This time of year brings back our worst memories of the worst days of our life. Causing us to relive that raw pain and think about the trauma we endured of the reality of you leaving us. 

On Tuesday you would be turning two years old. I wonder what you would be like? What would our family look like? Would your little sister be here with us already and what would your relationship with her look like? 

We think about you every single day. Wondering what you would be like and how much me miss you. Time hasn’t changed that part. Time has changed the intensity of our pain and the aching feeling. Missing you hasn’t changed. 

With time passing it feels as if we shouldn’t talk about you as much because, other people might not understand. Not understanding that we just don’t have to move on, get over, or have replacement children. That’s not how it works. We have learned to live without you, not by choice. 

We love, honor and miss you. We keep your memory alive. You will always be our first child and our beautiful baby girl. We miss you everyday but especially today. Today we are going on a drive with your little sister to try to see the beauty this world still has and remember your beautiful life. 

Mother’s day

Mother’s Day is a real bitch. Yep, I said it. It’s such a bittersweet holiday for me. 

Last year I boycotted every holiday and ignored all of them the best I could. They all hurt really bad. Last year I was grateful for the gifts from people in honor of Mother’s Day. Those ment so much to me and made the day feel better. Last year I was a mother but, my daughter was dead.

Life is still hard. Having Willow never replaced the hole that Berkley’s death left in our hearts. We knew it never could. It’s hard to think that we should have both daughters here with us. It still feels like we all got a raw deal. Our daughter’s life stolen from her and us. Our family will never feel whole. 

We try to live our life in honor of Berkley. Try to do the right thing, help others and hope we would make our daughters proud of us.

This year we welcomed our little rainbow Willow. She fills our days with happiness and we never take a second with her for granted. We love watching her grow and wonder who she will be when she grows up. She made me the sweetest Mother’s Day gift.  

I know we will have a good day together on Mother’s Day. It will be full of happiness but, my ache for my first daughter will still be there.

Waiting on Willow


Waiting on Willow to make her safe arrival was the second hardest thing we had to do. When we found out we were expecting our second child last May we were so excited, scared and hopeful. The summer flew by and it was the happiest we had been since Berkley died. In September it was like the rug had been ripped out from under us. At our 20 week ultrasound they saw a few markers that were concerning to them and we had to do additional testing. We spent a week losing our minds. I literally stayed in bed for 3 days trying to search the internet. We were paralyzed by fear and  upset thinking we never get a break in life. The end of the week we got a phone call telling us that the testing came back normal and Willow was healthy. We both felt a wave of relief but, at that point the pregnancy wasn’t the same.

I don’t know if it was the panic that changed it or the fact that I was getting farther along into my pregnancy. Approaching the point of loss with Berkley. We also had to get through the Fall. The season that stole our daughter. Every leaf changing brought me closer to the day that my daughter slipped away. I couldn’t believe how much a season can crush you and bring such intense pain rushing back. We made it through the month, the year marker of when she died and her birthday. It all sucked but, we did it.

We started weekly monitoring the first week in December. We had to go back to the room that they did the last ultrasound to confirm that Berkley died. Ever time we did the ultrasound I would just lay there tense, scared, and disconnected. I was scared it would be the last. She passed all of the ultrasounds except the third week. No movements or breathing for the whole 30 minutes. Watching that tech search for what she is looking for knowing things are off was terrifying. She had passed a NST scan right after she failed the first scan. We also had another ultrasound that evening to make sure she was okay and she passed right away.

img_3599.jpgWillow had hiccups every single day after around 30 weeks. She would have sometimes 7 episodes a day. I saw on several stillbirth resource websites and a doctor that specializes in researching cord issues stressed that hiccups should not be occurring this frequently or after 32 weeks. It could be a sign of the baby’s cord being compressed. So it felt like Willow also was going to die and no one would listen to me. Every day would start okay but, on the days where she was on her 5th or 6th episode of hiccups I would be beyond anxious. The hiccups made me lose my mind. It is so hard for me to explain the fear of losing a child. Something so innocent as hiccups to a mother that hasn’t lost a child sounds silly but, to a mother that has it’s a different story.

At the 20 week appointment we had set up a plan for induction at 37 or 38 weeks. Something that I was so relieved about. We were going to be able to have her delivered before the point of loss when Berkley died. Hell week, 39weeks. When that time came we drove back down to the Perinatoligist’s office for a meeting to schedule the amniocentesis to check Willow’s lung function. At that appointment we met with a different doctor, a doctor that didn’t agree with her partner’s plan. She was condescending, cold and made us feel horrible. I started to cry as she ripped our plan away from us. That was the first time I had cried at a doctors appointment ever. At the end of the meeting she called the other doctor that made the recommendation to see if she would proceed with the plan that they originally created 17weeks ago. Even though she stressed how much she disagreed and made us feel horrible. At this point we were questioning what we should do. We were so confused and upset.

We decided the day before the procedure was scheduled that we would do the procedure. My main doctor was confident in the procedure and we trust her more then anyone. The actually procedure wasn’t as bad as I would have thought. They stuck a needle and tube into my uterus to pull Willow’s amniotic fluid. They didn’t numb anything and I could feel the pressure of the tube. Whenever I took a breath I could feel a tube in there which caused me to panic. Besides that everything went great. We were told to go the hospital the next morning to be induced. We were still waiting on the test. There were supposed to be two tests. One that comes back within two hours and has higher false negative results then the second that was more reliable and took longer to receive the results.

We went to the hospital that Thursday morning and were told to head up to labor and delivery floor. They brought us to our room as we waited for the results I had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen that day. I was right but, I was okay with that. I was expecting the results to come back not mature since there is such a high rate of false negatives with that test. Her results were borderline so we were hoping that Monday we would be getting the results of the second test. The ones that the Perniatologist stressed to us are the reliable ones, the ones that don’t produce a lot of false negatives. I called to see if they had the results of the second test. I talked to a nurse that told me they never ran the second test… She read in the notes that they didn’t have the equipment to run that second test.  The Perniatologist called back shortly just to let me know they didn’t run the second test because, the first one came back borderline. Once again with that office the plan or what was explained to us was changed.

It was heart wrenching and I didn’t know how I was going to mentally get though one more week. At this point we were so shut down emotional and disconnecting from everyone. We had an appointment set for the next Monday for the induction. Hell week, 39 weeks. The day her sister died, would end up being the day she was born.

Willow Beatrice

We went the hospital early Monday morning for our set induction at 39 weeks. It was such a surreal feeling. We were so scared and were worrying about what could go wrong. I constantly wanted to hear her heartbeat. Our nurse Sara helped out with that. I was a little nervous at first she had such a big personality and I generally don’t care for that when I’m stressed. I shut down and tend to get annoyed with people. Sara was great that she changed my mood, made us laugh and kept on making fun of Tony. She was so amazing and the perfect person to have with us during that day. 

That morning I was joking that I was hoping for an 8 hour Labor and it turns out that is what happened. I was induced at 8, hard labor started at 12:30, one failed epidural, a second epidural and then Willow was born. Willow was born January 23rd at 3:59 pm, weighing 7lbs 11oz and was 21 1/2 inches long. 

When our doctor placed her on my chest I began to cry. I could believe she was here, crying and alive. I just couldn’t believe it. To be honest I still can’t. She had dark brown hair, the same lips and long skinny feet like her sister. We think Willow looks more like me then Berkley did but the girls look so much like each other. 

She has changed so much in the last three months . She is already full of so much personality. She is always “taking” and giving us huge smiles. 

I constantly find myself thinking about how grateful I am. When I’m burping her, she stands leaning against me and her hair brushes against my face. I melt and my heart feels so full. We are so in love and we are so excited to watch our baby grow.

I’m grateful for the little things

It has been a little over a year since our daughter Berkley passed away. This year has been hard and complicated to say the least. We have learned a lot this year about pain, ourselves, the grieving process and the world we live in. The loss of our daughter has changed how we look at the world. It has made life harder, it has made us more grateful and it has given us a deeper understanding.

At times it is very exhausting having to carry the weight of the loss. The first year felt as if we were just trying to survive, grow and understand the pain. We would celebrate our small victories moving through the grieving process. We started to participate in life again and actually began to enjoy it again.

It taught us a lot about ourselves and made us go through an existential crisis. We questioned the meaning of our lives and what the purpose of our life is supposed to be. It’s not an easy thing to do when you are in deep grief but, I guess that’s when it happened. It made us look at every aspect of our lives. The good and the bad. It is hard and it is painful. At times we feel very lost still and it’s hard to make decisions.

Losing our daughter gave us a deeper understanding of life and compassion for other people. I have seen people lose children before but, I couldn’t have imagined the depth and length of pain they endure until we experienced this pain ourselves. It made me look at other people that are struggling with their own battles with mental health, sickness, loss, personal issues, addiction, or any other thing a person has struggle with in this life. I know now that I will never know what they are going through. I know now that I don’t have a right to pass any sort of judgment on how they handle the battles they are enduring. We are so unique, we have different coping mechanisms, and all have been given different battles.

I know for me it was the little things that helped us survive, heal and helped us learn to live again. It was the friends and family that stood by our sides. The strangers that reached out to us. The random letters, messages and people reaching out to us months after we lost our daughter. It was the people in our lives that waited for us to return. It was being told after months of not being myself that someone saw a glimpse of the “old me”. It was when people would tell us it was nice to hear us laugh again. It is when you bring up Berkley in a conversation, when you still ask how we are doing, when you still allow us to have rough patches and when you haven’t put a time limit on our grieving process.

We wanted to do something in honor of Berkley and we participated in the Hope and Hearts walk for the Missing Grace Foundation. We set out just to walk. We hoped a few people would walk with us and maybe raise just a little money if we were lucky. We ended up having a large group of our friends and family join us and  we raised $3,300. We had many people that we love donate and reach out to us that couldn’t make it to the walk. We are beyond grateful for everyone that supported us.

With everything we have endured this year we are grateful for the little things. Thank you for allowing me to say my daughter’s name. Thank you for standing by our sides and being patient with us as we travel this journey. Those may be little things to you but, the mean the world to us.

Pregnancy after loss

I am almost in my eighth month of pregnancy with our rainbow baby Willow. My second pregnancy has been similar to pregnancy with the Berkley physically.  Mentally it is completely different. In the beginning of the pregnancy it was very exciting and gave us a renewed sense of hope. The summer flew by and were some of the happiest months we have had in the past year. The highlight of the summer was finding out that we were expecting our second daughter. I was going to try to tell our family together the gender of the baby but, that didn’t happen. I couldn’t even get into the car without starting to make the first phone call to tell our family we were having our second daughter.

Tony and I both really wanted a second daughter but, knew it was most likely going to be hard to have another daughter. Ever since we found out Berkley was a girl we had imagined raising a daughter and wondered what it would be like to have a daughter. We will hopefully know what it is like to raise a daughter in a few months. Things are complicated after you lose a child and are expecting another. I am scared that when I look at Willow I am going to wish for Berkley and that breaks my heart. Having a second daughter gives us a second chance to raise a daughter but, we will always have the void in our hearts where we should have had that chance with Berkley.

The farther we get into this pregnancy the more we begin to shut down emotionally. It’s almost like my mind is trying to protect myself incase something heartbreaking happens. The feeling is very strange and hard to explain. I am very in love with Willow. We want her here in January safe and healthy. There is some sort of disconnect with me realizing that we really are having another child in less then eight weeks. Whenever I catch myself imagining our life with Willow I stop myself and make myself think of something else. It is very hard that not only did we lose a daughter, we lost the ability to enjoy the beauty of pregnancy and engage in the excitement of the process.

We are doing our best and I’m ok with that. It’s hard for us that we are so scared and shut down but, we are trying our hardest. We both are enjoying her movements, reading stories to her at bedtime and just started on her nursery. I made her a beautiful floral mobile to hang above her crib. She will have all of her sister’s things but, we have began to pick up a couple things that are new for her.

It feels as if we are holding our breaths until she is here. Worrying about movement, hiccups, tests or ultrasounds is stressful. So far things are going good and she is doing good. We are hopeful and are trying to believe fully that she is here to stay. I am doing several things to try to keep my mind right. I am going to the gym a few days a week, going to therapy, reading blogs written by women that have/are going through this same journey, and trying to focus on the beauty in each day even when they are hard. Pregnancy after loss is hopeful, beautiful, sometimes sad, hard and complicated.



Hoping for our rainbow

Written 5/30/15

I cannot believe we finally have a positive pregnancy test. When you make that decision to try to have children each month that passes by waiting feels like it takes forever. So far I am fortunate that it hasn’t taken too long each time we have tried. My heartaches for families that struggle for months or years to concieve. It’s just not fair that so many wonderful people have to struggle, when others get pregnant and don’t even grasp how lucky they are.

Right now I don’t really know how to feel. I am definitely happy, guarded, and cautiously optimistic. I want to be happy and nervous like the pregnancy with Berkley but, I feel like I wasn’t scared like I am now. I was affraid of the worst happening but that was in the back of my mind overshadowed by my naïve sense of security. Thinking it really doesn’t happen to everyone so I hope I’m fine. 

I am scared now because, I am happy right now yet, very affraid. I don’t know what I would be like if I have to endure another loss again. I just want to be like the lucky ones. The ones that just get pregnant and deliver healthy children. I know I will never be that lucky because, I am so scared by the very traumatic loss of our first born. Each pregnancy will most likely be stressful and full of fear because, I know what intense pain that lays on the other side of the pure happiness. What I would do to be naive or have any sense of normalcy and have a happy pregnancy like I did with Berkley.