Fear of Truth

I haven't written in forever. I don't have writers block, I have fear. Fear of my own honesty and its perception by anyone reading. Fear that negativity may steer some hurting bereaved parent the wrong way in their grief. Fear that too much happiness in this new chapter of my life may convince someone I've abandoned my own grief and my daughter. Fear of judgement on so many levels. 

This problem is swimming in my brain daily. I beat myself up every time I start to write. Because of this, I'm losing memories and denying myself (and maybe others) the ability to own my true emotions. 

My goal is to overcome these fears and take the plunge into TRUE, raw, brutally honest writing. It may not be eloquent. It may not be enjoyable. But, it WILL be me. 

Mother's Day 2015

This was my fourth Mother's Day without my girl. They never get any easier. The constant battle between the pure joy of being celebrated by my two sons and the pain of not having my daughter here too. Aubrey was such a good celebrator (of all things) and knew how to make everyone feel so special. 

This is my last year ever as a mother of one child in Heaven and two children on Earth. Next year, for this occasion, my two baby girls will be about 10-months-old. I cannot even begin to imagine the emotions that will exist. 

There is already this guilt that no amount of sense can override. I know my Aubrey is safe and right where God wants her to be. I know that I have not replaced her with these new babies. I am aware that He gave us these two girls just like all our other children and that they are His gift. 

But I am a woman...a Mama. 

My heart is always divided and always has been. 

Every mother knows the guilt of being stretched between or having to choose where you are and who you're with at some point. 

When your kids have ball games at the same time and you're trying to be in two places at once, it pains your heart. "What if I miss their big play?", you think. "What if they think I value their sibling more than them?" These are small examples of what all moms of multiple children go through. 

When your child is in Heaven, every day is full of these feelings. You can't let yourself get lost in the grief that your soul tells you to feel because you're afraid of what impact it will have on your living children. You don't want them to ever feel they're less important than your child that was lost too soon. 

When you're busy living life and caught up in the joy that comes from those kids, there's a nagging feeling you're forgetting about your child who isn't here. 

It's brutal, at best.

I try to constantly remind myself how lucky I am to even have this pull...this struggle. It means that I was privileged enough to be the mother of one amazing child who is no longer with us and two awesome children who still are. Somehow, God loves me enough to bless me with two more children who are on their way. 

Motherhood--of all varieties--is the most grueling, gut-wrenching, second-guessing yet amazingly rewarding position we will ever be blessed to hold. 

Respect all mothers for what they do. Be thankful for the mother God gave you and take time to show her how much she means to you. If you're unable to mother a child yourself, be a strong role model and example to others. 

The rewards are infinite. 

LOVE💜

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.