Birth Day May 13, 2007 (Mother's Day)

Jessica Anne
born still May 13, 2007
8 lbs 4 oz 20.5 in

Happy 4th Birthday my Sweet Angel.

An Angel Never Dies - author unknown
Don’t let them say I wasn’t born,
That something stopped my heart,

I felt each tender squeeze you gave,
I loved you from the start.

Although my body you can’t hold,
It doesn’t mean I’m gone,

This world was worthy not of me,
God chose that I move on,

I know the pain that drowns your soul,
What you are forced to face,

You have my word, I’ll fill your arms, Someday we will embrace.

You’ll hear that it was “meant to be,
God doesn’t make mistakes”

But that won’t soften your worst blow
Or make your heart not ache.

I’m watching over all you do,
Another child you’ll bear,

Believe me when I say to you,
That I am always there.

There will come a time, I promise you,
When you will hold my hand,

Stroke my face and kiss my lips and
Then you’ll understand.

Although I never breathed your air,
Or gazed into your eyes,

That doesn’t mean I never “was”…
An Angel Never Dies.

Death Day

Easy to forget
Waiting for the tears to fall
Seems a lifetime gone

Grief again...

I've neglected this space. No, maybe I've just reserved this space for the deep down thoughts, when they reach the surface.

My friend who was instrumental in so many ways to helping me through that awful year died of cancer this month. I can't think about him without also thinking about all the times he let me just cry and feel and scream. He understood in a way no one I've met in person has. He was there for me, when my husband wasn't. Not because he didn't want to be, but because he grieved very differently. He was unbelievably kind to me. He has passed and I will miss him deeply.

This Saturday I went in and had time erased. My flabby, saggy belly, of which no exercises in the world have been able to get rid of, is now permanently gone. I had lost all the weight of all my pregnancies but the belly remained, until now. Last night, 24hours after my surgery, I took the bandages off briefly and saw my pre-child belly. I felt guilty. I have erased some of the only evidence that remained of carrying my daughter. See, evidence is very important when a child dies before birth. Otherwise it may be hard to conceive she ever existed at all. Beyond the guilt, I am feeling hopeful. I have wanted this for a very long time and I am ready to move on. I can be content that she lives on in my heart and no longer feeling like I have to explain my sagginess in terms of 3 children, when all people see is two.

We are approaching 4 years. Time has healed and scarred. I feel the ebb of time as both something dreadfully heavy, but also something that washes away, leaving one feeling lighter...

Season of Joy, Season of Grief

Although this year is a little more merrier,
my heart quickens a little with excitement,
feels a little fuller,
there is still a beautiful girl missing.

Her ornaments hang on the tree,
one with her footprint to remind us she WAS,
while her mama daydreams
about a little blond girl with pigtails,
3 years old,
dressing up in her Christmas dress to see the nutcracker
opening presents with her brothers on Christmas morn.

My heart which has grown at least two sizes this year
still aches, still breaks a little.
I shed a Christmas tear for my joy
I shed a Christmas tear for my sorrow
A season of dichotomy