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.

Happiness

Written 7/10/15

It has been a little over 8 months since our daughter passed away and life is beginning  to change. We decided to take a vacation for our anniversary that was May 29th. We headed out to visit our niece and to go back to Glacier National Park.


Glacier is such an important places for us. It is the most beautiful place we have ever visited in our lives. We first went out there two years ago and fell in love with it. I was sitting on a ledge on the side of the mountain looking at a bright green valley that had several small water falls running down the side of it. In that moment I felt an euphoria come over me and I thought to myself this is what heaven must look like.

When Berkley died I had nightmares and racing thoughts as I tried to fall asleep every night. I would replay our real nightmare. That night would start to replay over and over in my head. It was torture. That is why I would drink a lot or drink Nquil for a couple months to try to escape from our nightmare. When that didn’t work anymore I learned to replay our trip to Glacier out in my head. I would think of every detail from that trip the beauty, happiness and hoping that was what heaven was like.


This year we went to our happy place and that feeling returned. We laughed, hiked, camped, reconnected with ourselves and each other. I think this week in our happy place helped us find our happiness again.

Which brings me to fourth of July weekend. We have been hermits when it comes to interacting with friends and extend family. This past weekend was filled with family, friends and happiness. We went to Brainerd and surprised our friends at a racetrack that they were at. It was such a great day.

At the end of the day I was just sitting there with them and I felt that euphoria feeling again. I haven’t felt that feeling for a very long time, let alone just feeling happiness. Happiness without the but or what ifs. Just happiness. I wanted to start crying because I am so grateful to just be able to feel that feeling again.

 

 

Pain and Time

This pain is so unimaginable and I have never felt this intensity of pain in my life. When I was in high school I lost three very good friends of mine. One a year starting in 9th grade. These were some of the closest friends I had and when I lost them it was the closest I have been to feeling this type of pain. I still think about them on their birthdays and the time of year they passed away especially.

The days after I gave birth the Berkley the pain began to rise. Many nights would be spent crying hysterically until I would fall asleep. Some mornings I would wake up only to start crying like that again until I fell back asleep. I would make myself get out of bed, try to eat, and take a shower. If I did those three things It was a win. Tony stayed home with me for the first week and then my little sister flew in from Florida the next to stay with me. Even though I wasn’t much company.

I was in so much pain physically and mentally that I shut down. I couldn’t have imagined the pain until I had experienced it myself. There were times that when I was crying my arms would ache like there was a need to hold my baby that was so far away. I could also feel pain searing through my bones as I lay in bed crying hysterically. There were many times I would get into the shower start crying, begin gasping for air, my knees giving out as I sat huddled in the corner of the shower trying to pull it together or at least catch my breath. I began to have panic attacks on a regular basis and I was lucky if I only had one a day. After one of my panic attacks I went to the bathroom to get tissue to blow my nose. I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize the person staring back at me. It was like I was looking at a stranger. I took a picture to send to my sister to see if I had officially lost my mind.

IMG_1410

Mentally I wasn’t doing much better. I do not know where that month went. I was on autopilot. I remember going through the motions but, I wasn’t in my body it felt like. I was like a zombie if I wasn’t crying. I remember staring out the window one November day. Knowing it was deer hunting as I sat there wearing a long brown sleeve shirt and my blonde hair pulled up into a long ponytail. I fantasized about just starting to walk through woods and fields until someone accidently shot me thinking I was a deer. Thinking to myself that I don’t know how anyone survives this pain and not wanting to live without my daughter here with us.

My husband is my rock, my world, and knows me better then anyone in this world. I would think to myself when things were at the lowest, “I Love him, I love him, I love him”. During this painful time I could remember what love felt like.

I spent my days trying to dig out of the hole I was in. I fought everyday to survive, change, and grow from our daughter’s death. My friend sent me books that she read when she lost her son. I found Facebook groups, blogs, websites, and my doctor made us come in to see how we were doing too. That is when we began therapy also. I read many psychology articles to try to understand what I was going through emotionally. Slowly days became a little less painful. I could make it out into public and return to work. I could make it through work without having a break down most days but would lose it as I drove home by myself.

Slowly as days passed we learned to carry the pain, we began to cry less days, and could think about our daughter in a beautiful way. As I began to have good days Tony began to have his break down days. He had carried me for so long and put me first even through the death of his daughter. Most people think that it is me suffering so intensely from the loss of Berkley but, my husband carries the same pain as I do. He just doesn’t express it like me.

Our daughter would almost be 10 months old right now and the pain is changing. The pain can hit me like it did before in the early days but, that doesn’t happen as often. The pain has turned into an ache for her, wondering what she would be like or where she is today. We see her life as a beautiful thing and can feel the love we have for her over anything else. Beautiful sunrises and sunsets remind me of her the most. They give  me a sense of hope and remind of her beauty.

 

 

 

 

Our second child


Sharing the news that I am pregnant with our second child publicly is scary for me. With my pregnancy with Berkley I was announcing right at 12 weeks when I was “in the safe zone”. I was the happiest I had ever been expecting to be mother soon. Now I am scared to tell the world that we are expecting our second child because, I do not want to have to publicly announce a child has died again.

We are beyond grateful that we are expecting our second child to join our family this January. We are very happy but know this pregnancy is so much different from our last. Physically the same but, mentally much different. 

We found out on an early Friday morning as we were getting ready to leave for our road trip out to Montana. To be honest when I saw those two lines show up pregnant we were beyond happy. I also felt there is no way this baby is going to stick around. I mean why would it? Here we are going on 16 weeks and it’s still hanging in there like a champ. 


The farther I get into the pregnancy the more it sinks in that we might be bring a baby home in 5 months. I am detached from this pregnancy in a way that I am in love but, haven’t allowed myself to feel the love like I did with Berkley yet. I know this baby deserves all the love that Berkley had but, now I also know the pain that is on the other side of that love. I have an amazing doctor and a new therapist that has a lot of experience  working with mothers that have lost babies. They both reassure me that what I am feeling is very normal.

I know I will love this child just as much and know in my heart I already do. I saw it already on a ultrasound at 12 weeks and we find out this weekend what gender our second child is. We are very excited and already have names picked out for both genders. 

Tony, me and our families are beyond excited. 

Why I write and share our story

Early in our mourning process I was full of anger, sadness and so many emotions it is hard to explain. In the first week after Berkley passed away I was searching for blogs that other mothers have written. These blogs gave me comfort and hope for our future.

When Berkley died I felt so vulnerable and felt like a victim. I felt like no one could understand what we were going through and didn’t know how to interact with us. That is when I thought maybe I can tell them. Maybe I can share my story and help another family after they lose their baby. I will keep my daughter’s memory alive and try to share how much her life impacted us. 

I am honest even if it’s too hard for some people to read because, it is my truth that I am sharing. The love, the happiness, the depression, the hope and the pain. They are real and they are mine.

Writing my blog is one of the ways I work through her death. It allows me to write it down and put it into the universe. Changing my secrets into an empowering quest to find myself again. 

I do not want my daughters death to feel like a secret that people are too afraid to bring up. You won’t remind us our daughter died because, we think about her everyday. Our days are much better and are full of happiness most days. If you want to talk about our daughter you will not ruin our day or bring up hard feelings because, she is never far in our minds. 

A letter to our daughter 

Last year we spent Mother’s Day much different then we are spending it this year. Last year we saw you for the first time and found out you were a little girl. That was one of my happiest days of my life. The reality of seeing you and knowing who you were.


From that day on we spent the rest of the pregnancy imagining what life would be like raising a little girl. I was so happy imagining a little girl following her father around the garage. Our little daughter playing dress up with her mommy. We fell in love with you so fast and started to plan our future with you, everything was imagined with you here with us.

You are gone, and that is why life is so hard these days. We will never know what color eyes you had, what color your hair would have been, what you would look like as you grew. We never heard your first cry, first laugh, or watched you take your first steps. We never got to see you off for your first day of school, watch you get married or start a family of your own. Our family will always be different with out you here. 

That’s why life is so different, so hard and full of pain. We have a lot of things we have to come to terms with. Things that will never make sense. 

They are so hard because, you taught us what unconditional love is, what beauty is, what is like to love and lose. I could have never imagined life this way. Without you. 

Losing you has changed me. I know an unimaginable love that exist in parents. Even though you are gone, I still worry about how you left, were you ok, did you suffer and are you okay now? So far from us physically but you make up every ounce of us mentally and spiritually. 

You taught me how strong I am. How strong our marriage is. Our rose colored glasses have been shattered and we can see things differently then we ever imagined. Our beliefs about what life on earth is about and why things happen is this world. You taught me the importance of compassion, understanding, and how to be a better person. 

We fight everyday to be the people we used to be. We will never be exactly those people again and that’s ok. Losing you makes me want to be a better person, wife, friend and mother than I ever could have been. 

Last Mother’s Day you were here and I felt like I wasn’t a mother yet. This year you are gone and I feel more like a mother than  I ever have because, you taught us what is like to love your child so unconditionally that even in death we still feel the love for you over anything else. I love you more than you will ever know, our beautiful Berkley.

The world keeps turning 

It has been a little over five months since our daughter passed away and our lives were turned upside down. Last year was a rough one and our family was hoping 2016 would be filled with nothing but good things. Ha, it’s almost comical how much more you can happen right when you think you can’t possibly handle anything else. Last week Tony had surgery to have a big chunk taken out of his back. They think it is skin cancer but they are not sure. We hope it isn’t and that will hopefully be one  less thing to worry about.

Life threw another horrible curve ball into our and most importantly one of our best friend’s lives. My friend Mel’s husband passed away in a car accident on his way to work three weeks ago. This has flipped our world upside down again. We have a hard time trying to come to terms with a such a devistating loss. Mel, Seth and Olis were one of the families that we were truly happy for. I know that is bad to admit but, it’s hard to be happy for people right now. This will hopefully go away soon because, the guilt that I feel for feeling this way is ripping me apart.

Seth was an amazing person. There are not too many men in this world like him. Strong, loving, hard working, loved the simple things in life and he would do anything for his family. His wife Mel has been friends with Tony and I since we were 15 years old. She has been there for me through out the loss of Berkley. She always was checking in to make sure we were ok. She is a loyal, funny, kindhearted person that is a friend I love endlessly. Mel and Seth have a beautiful son Olis. He is nine months old and is the only baby I have been around since we lost our daughter. He is amazing and brings happiness to everyone around him. He is probably one of the cutest babies out there but, I am a little biased since he has been flirting up a storm with me lately.

Petron Family Go Fund Me

Tony and I are having a hard time wrapping our heads around the horrible things that happen in this world. We don’t understand how a loving husband would be ripped away from his beautiful family in an instant.

This has compounded our loss. We are not only grieving for our daughter but, our friend and their family. I feel myself growing darker and full of sadness.

It’s so hard to relate or interact with anyone. We are so sick of bad news and sadness yet we feel trapped. When you have conversations with anyone that tries to make small talk I find my self miles away. Conversations are usually full of problems that are real to them but to me I would give almost anything to have, “those problems instead”.

I know it is our situation and that is why I feel this way but, I am sick of feeling like this. I understand the reasons why. It’s like my head and heart are on two separate pages. I can’t wait to just be happy again. I will never take that for granted again. I am still fighting everyday to climb out of this hole but, it’s not easy. I do have happy moments and people have commented that they have seen glimpses of the old me but, I just want feel like myself again.

The art of grieving

There are 5 stages of grief; denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. These stages of grief are fueled by intense emotions and irrational thoughts. For the me the stages bounce all around. I can tell I am healing and moving in the right direction but, I still move through all 5 of them.

There are more good days than bad now but, she is always on our minds. No matter where or what we are doing. There she is. We are always thinking about what our life would be like with her and what she would be like. She would be four months old now and would have grown so much. I know that we are in the acceptance stage but are lingering in the depression and anger stages also.

Right now it feels like our theme song is “Paint it, black” by the Rolling Stones. You wish everyone could feel your pain, but in the same sentence you wish no one would ever know this pain. The anger is so irrational. Just seeing a pregnant women is annoying. I can be having a good day and it can change everything. Something that I thought was so precious is now aggravating. I know why I feel this way and that emotion is fueled by the pain of our loss. This is not a feeling that is constant and it is showing itself less than it was but, it’s still my greatest hurdle to overcome.

I know that we are starting to step into the acceptance stage. We are making great strides in the healing process. We are letting some of the guilt, denial, and bargaining go. I am taking the little accomplishments as they come. I went and spent time with one of friends that I really missed. This is a dear friend that I treasure. She is one of the friends I was pregnant with. She had a son and he is several months older than Berkley. I went to her house planning on staying for a little while and ended up staying most of the day. I held her son. I spent the day with her and her baby. I shockingly felt good about it. I wasn’t sad and was genuinely happy about spending time with both of them. I know I couldn’t have done this a month ago.

We are facing every emotion as it comes. Whether the emotion makes sense or not we just accept them. If I want to be mad at the world or cry. I am and I do. After I get though those emotions I usually feel better. I am hoping the days keep getting “easier” and we continue to move through the grieving process. It feels like you are stuck in these strange feelings and are being controlled by an irrational thinking process. It’s a mess and there is no art to it. We are just doing what we can, when we can. I sometimes look at pictures of me before I knew this pain and think “I miss that person.” I wonder if I will ever be that person again or will everything be a compromise. I will probably be truly happy one day but, I wonder if it will always be followed by “I wish our daughter was here too.”