2 Month Anniversary

After reading my post from one month ago I'm amazed at how faithful God has been in helping me with my grief. I'm not "over it," but I'm making progress. And progress is all that I can ask. The pain and loss won't magically disappear. And the alternative to progress is avoidance - and that isn't an option I will consider.

Since today is a type of anniversary, I knew it might be tough, so I tried to make it a really low key day. I caught up on some of my friends blogs because their words always comfort and soothe my broken heart. They encourage and give me hope. Then I spent time remembering Chloe.

I brought everything that reminds me of her into the guestroom (which would have been Chloe's bedroom). The pillow sham we wrapped around her in the hospital that we now keep on our bed. The little pink blossom urn that holds her ashes. The sand we collected from the beach two days before the ultrasound when there was no heart beat. A candle with the pink ribbon around it that we had tied around my pregnant belly at the beach that day. The pink elephant a sweet friend gave me when I returned from the hospital (that I slept with for about a week because I needed every ounce of comfort I could find). The pink and green box that holds every loving card we received during our journey. The blanket my sister-in-law gave us for the hospital that says Chloe Faith. The pink & leopard skin baby ballet slippers I received from my goddaughters. The gold coin from Korea that my associate bought after she heard Chloe had passed that commemorates the year she was born. I sprayed the Chloe perfume my brother and sister-in-law gave me in the hospital as an early birthday present. And put on "night blooming jasmine" lotion since Chloe means blooming. I lit the candle for Chloe and the candle we lit at our wedding to honor and remember my mom. I looked a the footprints the hospital made and the pictures they took. And our camera that has pictures of Chloe and us holding her. It was almost like a shrine. Strange and spooky to some, yet so wonderful to me. I brought in everything I could that is a tangible reminder of her. I smiled as I looked at all of it. And then I cried. Because this "stuff" is all I can physically hold on to since she isn't here.

She wouldn't even been here now, actually. She would still be in my belly until Sep. 4, her due date. So, in some ways, I feel like the reality of how our life has changed hasn't really hit. She would still be in the womb. I would be wearing maternity clothes. I wouldn't be drinking gallons of Diet Coke each day. But I still wouldn't have a precious baby girl in my arms. So, in some ways, it feels like the hardest days are still ahead of us, even though the first few weeks after her death were so gut-wrenching.

Reading every card we received touched my heart. The tears flowed continuously. I felt comforted and loved all over again. People were so kind to reach out to us during the darkest time in our lives. Thank you. We love you for being there for us.

Looking at pictures of Chloe was hard. So hard. The hardest part of all. My mind had blocked out how sick she was. Her little body was so sick. It breaks my heart to see my poor baby girl so sick. I am so grateful that she never experienced pain. That is a huge comfort. And I know that today she is whole and healthy and having a blast in heaven. That brings me joy - true joy. I know she is in the best place possible. But to remember how sick she was on earth is hard. Really hard.

I remember the first time I saw her on the ultrasound. She was so tiny. Jose' was with me and we fell in love with her right away. She was only 8 weeks but we could see her. See and hear her heart beat. Her head. Her "soon-to-be" limbs. It was awesome!!

And the second time I saw her. At about 13 weeks. While we were looking at the ultrasound screen she kicked her leg. It was such a precious gift. She looked perfect in the ultrasound. Absolutely beautiful. The doctors could see how sick she was in the ultrasound, but we couldn't. That was a blessing. I still have a perfect image of her in my mind from that ultrasound. And her short life as she kicked her leg. What a blessing.

I never did feel her move inside of me. Maybe there was enough movement since I was at 20 weeks when she was delivered, but I never recognized it. But she was there. She was alive. For 19 precious weeks. And I wouldn't trade a minute. If avoiding all this pain meant not having her at all, I would still gladly take the pain. I wish things could have been different and she was still growing inside me, healthy and whole. But even though that wasn't the plan, I still would choose the time we had with her over nothing at all.

The first week after she was born I remember looking at the clock each night at 9:40pm to determine how many days it had been since she was delivered. Every Wednesday reminded me of how many weeks it had been since we first received the fatal diagnosis. Wednesday also marked how long it had been since the final ultrasound. Every Saturday reminded me how many weeks it had been since we saw her face to face. It seemed every minute, every day, everything reminded me of Chloe. It isn't quite like that now at 2 months. It isn't every minute or every day. It isn't everything. It isn't even every Wednesday or Saturday. The loss is still there, the hole is still there. But it isn't as paralyzing as it was in the first few weeks. It has become more bearable. Thank you God.

The grieving mommy's I've met through the blogs said it would be like that. And that promise helped me get through those difficult days.

It won't always hurt this bad.

The pain won't always be this raw.

I knew it was true because I had experienced grief when my mom died. Now, 23 years later the pain isn't the same. The loss and pain are still there. The void is still there. But the pain isn't all-consuming like it was at first. Thank you God.

Today was a special day to remember my precious little girl. I'm grateful to have had it. I'm grateful to have a day to remember her life and the impact she made on my life and so many others. I'm grateful she was my daughter. I'm proud to have been her mother. I hope to give her a little brother or sister some day. And I know I will see her again in Heaven.

One last remembrance of Chloe...a friend sent us the Watermark CD with the song Glory Baby. The lyrics rang in my head continuously. They still touch my heart...

Glory Baby, You slipped away

As fast as we could say baby, baby

You were growing, what happened Dear,

You disappeared on us baby, baby

Heaven will hold you before we do

Heaven will keep you safe

Until we're home with you

Until we're home with you

(chorus)

We miss you everyday

Miss you in every way

But we know there's a day

When we will hold you, we will hold you

And you'll kiss our tears away

When we're home to stay

We can't wait for the day

When we will see you, we will see you

But baby let sweet Jesus hold you

‘Til mom and dad can hold you

You'll just have heaven before we do

You'll just have heaven before we do

Sweet little baby, it's hard to understand it

Cause we are hurting, we are hurting

But there is healing

And we know we're stronger people

Through the growing and in knowing

All things work together for our good

And God works his purposes

Just like he said he would

Just like he said he would

(chorus)
We miss you everyday
Miss you in every way
But we know there's a day
When we will hold you, we will hold you
And you'll kiss our tears away
When we're home to stay
We can't wait for the day
When we will see you, we will see you
But baby let sweet Jesus hold you
‘Til mom and dad can hold you
You'll just have heaven before we do
You'll just have heaven before we do

I can't imagine Heaven's lullabies

And what they must sound like

But I will rest in knowing

Heaven is your home

And it's all you'll ever know

All you'll ever know