Three Years Gone

This week marks three years since the last time I held my daughter. The last time I heard that amazing laugh, saw those big, beautiful brown eyes light up as she smiled so big and watched her fish and play all day. 

Her last bath and then the last time I ever put her to bed. The last "I love you, Mama, Goodnight"...her last words ever.

 

Three whole years. 

She has now been gone half as long as she was ever here. That gorgeous creature only walked this Earth for six short years. 

Both her life and her death have changed who we are, forever. Even knowing the tragic ending, I wouldn't trade a single day of life with Aubrey Laine. 

Now, her two baby sisters are living and growing inside of me. Her big brothers are bigger than me and growing up and maturing so fast. It all brings both the most joyous and painful feelings I've ever known.

The promise of new life is incredible and healing but there's also a fear that is ever present. It's terrifying, now knowing how truly fragile life is. I worry about the mother I now am--and will be--after all I've been through and continue to walk through everyday. Will I find the patience, stamina or anything it takes to not just raise them but to do an outstanding job? They all deserve nothing less. 

It kills me to know these little girls will never know just how incredible their big sister really was.  It's impossible to show a picture or tell a story and rightfully portray her magnificence. 

She's our past, our memory, but these girls and their brothers are our only present and future (at least this side of Heaven). 

So, the mysteries of life continue and the goal remains: live the best life we can live while wading through and overcoming our personal difficulties. We all have them. We are all human. 

Be kind and encourage one another. LOVE 💜

The Struggle

People often ask me how how I survive a life where I have outlived my child. I wonder that, myself, frequently. The honest answer is: I do somehow survive but I don't do it well....not at all. 

I cry in the shower, a LOT.  

I cry in the car, whenever I'm alone. 

I cry in bed after my husband falls asleep. 

I cry until I have to force myself to breathe. There's no relief from it. It just never feels better. 

I try to hide the hurt all day and put on my best face but it's just a mask. 

I lose my temper so much faster than I'd like. I have very little patience. I'm negative and grouchy and short...that's just where I am...and it's not fair to those I love. I hate it so much. 

This life as a bereaved mother isn't fair or easy but it's mine to live. It's the weirdest mix of miserable and happy and it's very tolling. 

However, I try to remember that I'm still here so there must be a reason. God didn't answer my prayers, when my sweet girl died, neither to take her place or to take me with her. He wanted me to be here for my boys. He knew my amazing, patient, loving husband would soon come into our life and help lighten the burden. He knew I would be having two more miracle babies and that my story wasn't finished. 

He always knew how this life would play out and I only thought I had a clue. He gives and He takes away and he LOVES us every single second of our lives...even when we are furious at Him and even though we deserve so much less. 

Life, for us all, is a struggle. We all have our stuff. Trust in God and let Him help carry you through. It won't necessarily change how long you live or what you have to go through but it will make a big difference in just how short or long it feels. 

LOVE💜

The Day Before Your 9th Birthday

Your gifts should already be wrapped with, of course, purple ribbons.

I should be picking up cupcakes for your 3rd Grade class party with purple everything to go with them.

I should be planning tomorrow’s family birthday supper at Longhorn and getting excited for your reaction when the waiters bring out the Chocolate Stampede with candles and sing you a silly song. Your huge smile and infectious giggles were always so predictable and perfect.

I should have the house clean and ready for a pile of silly little girls, coming for a weekend slumber party and happily waiting to pull out my hair from the craziness.

Together, we would pick out your “teenager” clothes for your big day at school and we wouldn’t forget to add the “Birthday Girl” ribbon.

After you go to sleep, on your last 8-year-old night, I would stay up late coloring your “Happy 9th Birthday, Aub!” sign to hang in the kitchen for you to see, first thing the next morning.

None of these things are ever going to be happening again. There are no new birthday celebrations here, for you. 

For me, truly, there is only emptiness and sorrow and all I do is miss you. You didn’t turn 7 or 8 and you won’t get to turn 9. You are forever 6-years-old. You are forever our precious memory.

I cannot believe how much time has gone by since you left. I can’t believe I have survived this pain, this huge void for almost three years now. All things, (happy, sad or somewhere in-between) are always without you and your absence is felt no matter what.

This life God has blessed me with is good, but I would give up every single part of it to be with you again. Selfish, yes, but I am a mother without her daughter and that warrants such feelings.

Every day I finish on this Earth is one closer to you…one closer to Birthday celebrations in Heaven (I can only imagine how splendid that will be). Until that day comes and God calls me to be where you are, please know that I am here…missing, loving and wanting you always.


Happy Birthday, my sweet, precious angel. Mama LOVES you, forever.

Another Year

Another year came and went. 365 more days without my girl. I'll never get used to it. I'll never be able to make sense of this new life and all it's constant changing, whether good or bad. 

This past year brought with it so many highs and lows. I've realized, more than ever, what and who matters most to me. I just lost a dear friend at such a young age. He constantly taught me more than I thought I knew about living, laughing and mostly, loving. Add his death to the long list of questions I have for God. 

This coming year will surely be one of the most interesting of my life. To say things will change is a huge under statement. I still mourn my daughters death every minute of every day. It will never go away. However, I'm grateful for Gods plan...especially the part that is bringing us brand new joys I never thought I'd have. I'm grateful for a husband that loves me like I'm unbroken and makes me so happy. I'm grateful for my children who keep me going, happily, and always on my toes. My parents, who are and have always been my rocks and amazing examples of strength and faith. My close friends who have become my family. My God who knows my heart and thoughts and loves me unconditionally. 

I am a lucky woman. Weathered, damaged and hurting but budding with new life and still somehow full of LOVE. That's what stays with me. Aubrey Laine's life gave me LOVE that will never die. LOVE lives forever and carries us through this crazy life. I'm forever grateful to her and for her. 

💜  Happy New Year  💜

Numb

There is no touch--no bond--stronger than that between a mother and her child. 

God creates cells with his or her own DNA and your partial genetics that are a completely unique individual. He places this constantly growing human being, who spends several uncomfortable but wonderful months living inside you. Your own body grows and changes to accommodate them. 

Then there comes a day with indescribable pain when your body brings forth this child. 

Everything stops and there is a joy and release unlike anything else you could ever experience. 

A new life has begun. 

From that day on a part of your heart and soul lives outside of your body and you're no longer your own person. 

When they hurt, you hurt. When they're happy, you're happy. An uncontrollable fit of tears can bring you to your knees in despair. One bout of continuous giggles fuels you for more of life to come. 

One small touch from your child...one hug, feels like it can stop time. 

Then, one day, time really does stop. That precious child, the one you lived for daily, is gone...forever. 

I've become numb. I'm a mere shell. Everything is losing it's color, it's shine, it's life. My private world is dull and muted. 

I'm aware that my heart is beating and lungs repeatedly filling with air. The days come and go. The world hasn't stopped turning but I'm not really here. 

I want to feel the thing that is impossible--the touch of my Aubrey. 

If You Dont Have Something Nice To Say Don't Say Anything At All.

I can't write. I've tried, but I just can't.
For months, now, I've jotted down random thoughts, made some notes and almost written something profound, important or inspiring. There is just nothing there that feels right. It's funny, though, because my brain is about to explode from all the thoughts and feelings I have been trying to process all this time. But, when preparing for writing...nothing comes.
Honestly, I'm afraid that whatever comes out will be dark, depressing or anything but uplifting or encouraging. I'm afraid that what flows from my fingertips will enter into your eyes and dive right into your hearts. I don't want to be responsible for spreading gloom across the world. I don't want to be anyone's reason for sadness, bitterness or anything other than good.
So, I'm not writing right now.
Thank you all who have requested more blog posts. Thank you for your support and encouragement in the past, present and every day of the future. It means the world to me. Know that, while you aren't hearing much from me, I am here...surviving and trying my hardest.

Happy Father's Day

I've had the privilege of raising two boys (and watching dozens of cousins and nephews closely) and it has never ceased to amaze me how wild and fearless they are from the very beginning.

I believe God instills a sense of adventure in little boys so that when they get older, they are brave and able to protect their wives and children from danger...whether its a spider, mouse, snake, thunderstorm, bully or burglar. Men were built to protect their wives and children so that we feel secure in their presence. 

Boys are also notorious for being silly, mischievous and rambunctious. In fact, most men I know never fully grow out of that. Life is tough and we--as women--tend to take things a little too seriously. My daddy, my husband and both of my sons share many of my favorite qualities. Humor and sarcasm are abundant in those around me and usually also saves me from myself. These guys are always readily available to lighten the mood and add to my many laugh lines. 

My Daddy is the most humble man I've ever known. He works harder than he should and believes in helping others and rarely feels the need to take any credit. If ever a Good Samaritan there was, it's him. I've learned so many valuable lessons just by watching him live his life and I am so grateful for every single one. 

Thank you, Jesus, for the funny, brave, strong and humble men throughout my life. 

Today, and always, remember Dear Old Dad. They are too often in the background of our lives, yet are the backbone of the family. They work hard, play hard and are our unspoken heroes...ask most any child. No matter what variety you have (even if he's not around),

none of us would be here without them. Fathers are hugely important. 

I definitely have an incredible daddy but my children are especially lucky. They have a Papa who has never missed a beat throughout their lives (and helped me raise them from babies) and a step-dad, who stepped right in without hesitation and filled the role seamlessly. He is now, without a doubt, their Daddy. 

My heart also goes out to Aubrey's daddy and all the other men in this cruel world who have to wake up each day a lifetime away from their deceased child. It's a deep pain that is unmatched by any other and I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Father's Day is both a blessing and a curse for so many. Please pray for them all...today and always. 

Happy Father's Day to all! LOVE💜