Dear newly-bereaved parent

Dear newly-bereaved parent,








I’m not going to welcome you because your joining this club doesn’t bring me pleasure. I am not glad that you are here. I wouldn’t wish this permanently assigned seat on my worst enemy. However, no matter how much I don’t want to share this club with you, I can’t discontinue your membership… or my own.




I have now been a member for 2,625 days. That’s the last time I looked into the big brown eyes of my baby girl. The last time that we shared a laugh, a meal, a song, a day together. The last “goodnight, Mama. I love you” I ever heard her say.

Hearing stories like mine used to make you sad because you couldn’t fathom being where I am. You have said things like “I could never survive a life without my child”.




I said that too.




Who could?

You can. You will. You know you really don’t have a choice.

Still, this isn’t me telling you to put a smile on your face and march forward. It isn’t going to be easy.

Grief is an ocean and you’ll forever be stranded out in the middle of it. You have to ride it’s waves and survive the storms. Some days you’ll feel you’re barely keeping your nose above the surface. You’ll beg to have it swallow you whole so you don’t have to tread the pain anymore.




But the strangest thing will happen one day. You’re still out there in deep, dark open water but they’re calm seas and you know you’re okay. You’re floating without having to try so hard. You can look around you and see the beauty of it all. Sunrises, rainbows, sunsets.

Funny thing is, sometimes we fail to see the true beauty and wonder of life unless we are put in an uncomfortable (seemingly impossible or devastating) place.




I don’t know if God takes our children away for the purpose of drawing us--and others--closer to Him.




I know in the past 7 years and 2+ months without Aubrey I have felt many emotions towards God.




I have drawn closer, fallen on my knees and worshipped Him more than ever before in my life.




I have begged and pleaded for Him to take me so I could stop suffering and be with her.




I have also pounded my fists and screamed and hissed out horrible things to the Heavens.

I felt extreme guilt about that until I realized He created every part of me. He knew my story before it began. He knew exactly how I would react in every situation of my life. Through all that, He loves me unconditionally.

I’m human. I want Aubrey back here with me every day but I’m her Mama and I want what’s best for her. I know nothing could be better than Heaven. There is no pain or sickness or separation or pressure. She is free and perfect and there isnt a clock ticking like there is here. I may live another 60 years on Earth, but when I get to her in Heaven, it will be like no time has passed. She never has to feel the pain of missing anyone she loves.

I say all this so you understand I’m no expert. I survive day-to-day. Some days are wonderful and I remember to be thankful for all the time I had with my child who isn’t here and pray for more time with those who are. Other days I think I hate life and everyone in it. It’s a battle. Sometimes its a simple choice. Some days seem to choose for us, good or bad.

You may not want to but you too will survive this.

All we can do is try to live the best life every day you have left. Encourage others to do the same. Remind everyone around you how precious their time is, especially with their children.

In all things, actively remember our child. Make sure the world does too.

Don’t ever let anyone tell you to “get over it” or “it’s time to move on”. That isn’t going to happen.




Do your best. Ask for help. Lean on people.




Speak your child’s name! Tell their stories and keep their memory alive.

Remember, you hurt so deeply because you LOVE so deeply and that will always be a perfect gift. The LOVE you shared with your child is worth every moment of pain you will endure. I wouldn't trade a second. Whether you had one minute or 65 years together, you are blessed to be your child’s parent.




God choose you!

Live, laugh and LOVE in honor of the life your child lived and know that you will see them again. Soon and very soon...

https://m.box.com/shared_item/https%3A%2F%2Fwww.box.com%2Fs%2F07c7212e47b18eb2f342

6 Years, 12 Days

As of today, I have survived the same amount of time here without Aubrey Laine as I was blessed to have with her. Six years, 12 days.

How is that even possible?


I’m always aware that each year keeps moving farther away from “the year we lost her”. My every memory recalled...every picture...was either “before or after” Aubrey died. Every anniversary has been felt and kept up with but this new knowledge of the time without her here is significant to me.

When you lose your child—especially at such a young age—you’re aware there was only so much time you had with them. Each event in their life is more important to you. There were 6 birthdays, 6 Christmases, 6 Easters, etc. She enjoyed two years of school and started one year of baseball. She was in two dance recitals. She saw Independence Day fireworks six times. She traveled many places. She had awesome friends and family.

Aubrey Laine lived a great life!

                                     

I tried hard to be present and enjoy every moment with her. I was a Mama of three—and human— and I failed often. However I remember the feeling of knowing how important things were to watch and soak up. I’m not sure if it’s because I had two older children and thought she was my last (my baby) or if God just blessed me with that knowledge. Either way, I am so happy He allowed me to live life with her. Six years with Aubrey was so much more than I ever came close to deserving.

Since the minute she became ill, I have wrestled with God and my emotions. I begged Him not to take her from me. I begged Him to take me instead. I begged Him to take all her pain away so she didn’t suffer. I begged Him to allow me to start all over and do better by her. I begged Him to let me go with her and after her.

Since she died, I have gone back-and-forth between thinking I would give anything to have her back here and being thankful she’s in Heaven spending her eternity with Jesus (where I get to be one day too!).

I have a couple of friends who have children living with cancer. (We are all dying so I am addressing it as what they’re living with.) I am familiar with much of what they have to be feeling. We selfishly want them to stay with us. As they are fighting to live and experiencing so much pain we beg God to take it all away but know that may mean losing them. This battle, for parents, never really stops.

Grief is a cancer in itself. It robs you of joy and life and feeling carefree. It feels like it will surely kill you. Yet, in its darkest hours, in its cruelty, it doesn’t. You have to wake up each day and fight to keep your head above its murky waters.

The other side of grief is really a blessing. It forces you to appreciate what you had. It helps you cling to God and allows you to know you will be reunited with Him and your loved ones one day. You can LOVE better because you know what it’s like to lose something irreplaceable. You can (sometimes) look past the small obstacles in life because they’re nothing compared to the greatest pain there is. You’re able to see yourself in a new light knowing you’re stronger than you ever thought possible. You can help others focus on the lives they are blessed to nurture.

We are ALL fatal. Every single life will come to an end. Some will live 100 years and others may not take their first breath.


Each moment is precious.


Each milestone is important.


Every life matters.


Cherish all that you are given and know that it comes from The One that LOVES you more than could ever be measured. None of us deserves any good we are given yet He trusts us with these lives. He wants us to LIVE well...LAUGH often...LOVE big!

Graduating

I’m often crippled by the guilt of the effects my mistakes in life have had on my kids. I’d take back all the pain and negativity if I could. But I am so humbled by God’s grace on our lives through each phase we’ve been through together. Through the storms, I have watched this strong, loving young man emerge and (somehow) still love his Mama fiercely. I am the most undeserving yet blessed person alive. 

My oldest boy graduates tonight. It’s the strangest mix of emotions I’ve ever dreamed of feeling. 

I am so incredibly proud of who he is as a person. He has his faults—like we all do—but he is good, kind, thoughtful, helpful, funny, sensitive and loyal. 

Tyler has kept me on my toes his whole life. His first ER visit was at about 14-months-old. There have been many, MANY after that one!! He has had more stitches, surgeries, and doctor visits than I care to remember. It’s is by no small miracle that he is healthy and fully functioning today. 

Somehow, he never fails to get right back into things. Nothing seems to scare him! He has a strong work ethic and strong determination. I know those things will take him far on his path. I believe big things are waiting! He is armed with a zest for life and most importantly, a heart for The Lord. I can’t wait to see what his future holds!

“For I know the plans I have for you,”declares the Lord, “plans to give you hope and a future.” ~Jeremiah 29:11

I am okay

Tonight, after I tucked in my two little girls for the last time this year, I took down all our Christmas decorations and trees. It was a quick and mostly painless task. 

I’ve actually been putting it off since Christmas Day. I imagined the same crippling emotions taking over me that usually do. 

While I’m a little sad this holiday is over, I realized something. 

I am okay. 

This is the first year, since losing Aubrey, I readily decorated for Christmas. In fact, my trees were up weeks before Christmas Day. Normally, I wait until the week before, as  it’s a miserable job for me. It includes putting up and decorating Aubreys little tree with all her own ornaments. It always hurt so much to do it without her help and knowing she wouldn’t be here to admire it every day. 

One early day this December, Christmas music was playing on my radio and I purposely didn’t change the station. It wasn’t angry or annoyed, hearing it. In fact, I sang along and even danced a little. My girls loved it. I loved it! I felt JOY and LOVE. I felt alive again. 

Every day we played as much Christmas music as we could and danced our hearts out. It filled my soul with a happiness that hasn’t been there in ages. I was able to celebrate with my girls like I always did with Aubrey. I was no longer the Scrooge Mama that I had been the five years before. I praised Jesus for opening my heart and my eyes. 

I know it seems simple for everyone else to get this next lesson. However, for a bereaved parent, it’s not always so easy. 

The Lord showed me that Aubrey wasn’t sad that she’s not here for Christmas. She doesn’t miss us. She isn’t sitting around Heaven watching a clock. She is in the most perfect place possible with God and Jesus and all the people she’s ever loved that are fortunate enough to be there with her. Time is not there. Sadness, loneliness, pain, regret don’t exist in Heaven. Will we all rejoice the day we are reunited? I absolutely believe that!! But, until that day, I’m only failing as all my kids’ Mama if I sit around feeling sorry for myself. I’m taking away from the kids who are here by not celebrating the life we have together. 

I don’t pretend life without Aubrey will be easy all the time. I may not go an hour after writing this blog post before I fall apart again. I’m human after all. The void will always be there. Part of me will be hurt and sad and forever changed because I lost my child. 

What I know now—and will remind myself in every hard time—is that God chose me to be that amazing girl’s Mama. He gave me 6 years, 2 months and 12 days with her here. He loves me so much that he sent His own son to die on the cross. He did that so that we would have LIFE and the promise that, as His children, eternity in Heaven is ours. We will be with God, Jesus and all our loved ones in Heaven forever. 

Soon and very soon....

Until then, I plan to live a life full of LOVE and laughter and make memories while I can. 

Happy New Year to you all. 💜

Happy 2nd Birthday, girls!

Three years ago, I would have tried anything to get pregnant (and I did). Surgery, acupuncture, herbal teas, yoga, diets, you name it. It all seemed hopeless. Then, in November of 2014 a miracle happened...two actually. We were given a 3-5% chance for conception of one child. We were shocked and terrified and happy to learn we were expecting twins. We thanked God for these babies. 

To say time flies when you're having fun is an understatement. We somehow blinked and two years were behind us. 

From tiny NICU preemies to healthy, smart, funny and wild toddlers...just like that. 

Every moment is a learning experience. Each day is filled with crazy good--and difficult--times. I wouldn't trade these two girls for anything. 

Carson Laine and Julia Ann have given this life new meaning and purpose. We are all filled with so much joy because they are ours. This walk isn't always easy but it's better than it should be and far richer than we deserve. 

I call myself blessed to be their Mama and I cannot wait to see what's in store for us all. 

Happy 2nd Birthday, girls. LOVE💜

The Beauty of The Beast

My husband took me to see a movie yesterday, as part of an early birthday date.  We rarely see a movie in the theatre. It's expensive and, with five kids and my husband's grueling work schedule, we don't get the opportunity often (it's been TWO years since we have had a childless date). I very much wanted to see the movie The Shack but I'm smart enough to know my "ugly cry" response to it needs to stay at home so that was off the list. So, we went to see Beauty and The Beast, instead. I saw the original in theatre and wanted to experience the remake the same way.

Going in, I saw my aunt, two cousins and their two daughters. I smiled at how sweet it was, watching the youngest--who is three--going to see her first movie. It didn't hit me until I was sitting by myself in the partially-lit room,  alone as my husband went to get concessions, that this choice may be equally emotionally dangerous, for me. 

It dawned on me that it's been over five years since I saw a movie with Aubrey. Would she want to come see this with me if she was still here? Absolutely. Then, frantically, I tried to remember watching the original version with her and I couldn't. Blank. I had a mini meltdown realizing another small memory of her had faded because couldn't hold on to it tight enough. It happens this way, for me, a lot. 

I got myself mostly back together by the time my husband came back. 

It was a beautifully made movie. I saw so much of my girl in the main character, Belle. She was beautiful, unique and so strong. She loved reading, animals, people and adventure. 

She knew she didn't belong in the life she was in. She was going places! 

The Beast, I saw as a metaphor for my grief. Beautiful and awful all at the same time, there are layers, both good and bad. It takes loving me through the bad to reap the rewards of the good. When the Beast freed Belle, to return to her father, he knew he truly loved her and that love would haunt him for the rest of his life. Ironically, he had to let her go because he loved and wanted her there so much. 

I can relate. 

There is so much joy, and pain, in loving someone who is a memory. The beauty of who Aubrey was and the impact her life made is incredible. While it can be beyond devastating that I don't have her here with me, there is hope in the promise that I will spend eternity with her in Heaven. When that day comes, this painful life will be like a blur. 

So, I go on another day...another year, now, knowing that I am blessed to have had her as my own and I will be with her again. She is living in complete perfection. I could never want anything better for her. 

Soon and very soon, my girl...Mama is coming. 

The Many Sides of Grief

Grief is a cancer. It lives inside of it's host, wreaking havoc and taking over. It sucks the joy and fun out of life. It ages you...wears you out. 

Grief is an active threat. It doesn't back down. It's sneaky. It cannot be outsmarted or outrun. 

Grief is the ultimate opponent. Grief does not play nice. 

Grief, itself, cannot be seen but it's effects are very evident. 

Grief is also a gift. 

I often say, the bigger the love, the bigger the loss. I fully believe that. The more we love a person, the more we feel their absence. It's a blessing and a curse but--for me--it's worth every single bit of pain to have loved and have been loved. 

Losing something that is more important to you than most anything in your world makes it much easier to measure the value of all other things. You quickly realize who and what matter to you. You spend less time trying to impress others and more time with the ones closest to you. You stop "sweating the small stuff" and just let it go! You know to savor each moment that is good. 

Grief makes you tough, in good ways and bad. When you know that you have experienced possibly the worst thing imaginable, it makes other things seem survivable. 

In a less appealing way, it toughens you where you push people away. The good news in that is it shows you who is willing to love you in spite of the walls you put up. If someone is willing break the walls down (or better yet, climb inside with you) they're worth having around. 

Grief is something I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. Through these last five years, I've grown and changed in ways I never imagined possible. I have met others walking the same path. I've lost many who aren't willing to take on the burden. I have learned to survive in ways that others may not approve of or understand. What I know above all of that is that it's all temporary. This life...this pain...it's not here to stay. One day, God will call me to be with my girl. Until then, I'm going to try to trust Him and love who I can, when I can, the best I can. It's all any of us can handle if you think about it. I'm sorry for anyone that doesn't fall into one of those categories at any given time. I never mean to hurt others. Please forgive me if I have. 

So, do your best to be kind to everyone. We are all walking through something in our own little worlds. LOVE