Sunday, July 20, 2008

3 Month Anniversary

It doesn't seem possible that it has been 3 months since we held Chloe for the first and last time. It feels like so much longer in some ways. Like a distant dream. Until I start to think about it. Then the tears come and the pain cuts through my heart and my entire body aches with grief and loss. It is still too much for my mind to comprehend at times. That this is our reality. That we actually held our stillborn baby girl in our arms 3 months ago and we won't see her again on Earth. She won't magically be born healthy on her due date, September 4. She won't be wrapped in the beautiful pink blanket that was hand quilted with love by a ministry at Saddleback Church that made one for each baby in Heaven for the parents in our Empty Arms Support Group.

Today I'm angry. I'm tired. I'm sad. I'm heart broken. I wish it didn't have to be this way.

I'm thankful for the time we had with Chloe and the for the way she impacted our lives and the lives of people who loved her and heard her story. But I also wish we could still have her here. That we could have been changed without losing her. That growth didn't require so much pain. That life could be easy instead of so hard.

The last few days have been hard. I've been anxious, frazzled, and tense. I knew it was because Saturday was approaching and it was the 3 month anniversary of Chloe's delivery. I didn't know what to expect. I assumed it would be easier than the 1st or 2nd month anniversary, but it was still an unknown.

I woke up at 5:30am and couldn't go back to bed. I got busy right away. I was so tense that I felt compelled to let out some of the tension by exterting some energy. That doesn't really work for me - instead I end up trying to do 3 things at once and end up more stressed out. I baked a cake, made breakfast and made lunch - simultaneously. It was insanity.

In hindsight, I think I was trying to be productive because then I could feel like I achieved something. Maybe I needed something tangible, because with grief - it isn't concrete. It is so grey and uncertain. Looking at breakfast, lunch, and dessert showed a result from my effort. I know there is a result from the effort I put into grieving. But for some reason having something tangible helped me to feel better. Plus it was food - which always makes me smile.

When Jose' came down for breakfast I let him know I was fragile and to please not push my buttons or joke around with me. Then I let him know we had a yummy breakfast to celebrate Chloe's 3 month Heaven homecoming. He smiled.

She is in a better place - I know that and believe that with every cell of my body. And yet, I wish she could be here with us. I wish she was here with us to love her, touch her, hear her baby sounds, smell that heavenly baby scent, and just enjoy her. My heart breaks that we didn't have more time with her. I realize there wouldn't have ever been "enough time." No matter how much we had, I would have wanted more. But just one minute to see her take a breath. To see her look into my eyes. To see her hands or feet move. To hear her make a sound. What I would give to experience that with her. My heart aches because I missed out on all those "little things."

I know that I am different because of her. She touched my life in a way that nothing else and no one else could. She has brought me closer to Jose' and closer to God. For that I am deeply grateful. I'm reminded of her impact on our lives daily. In relationships that didn't exist 4 months ago that now touch my heart in deep places. In my willingness to be vulnerable in a way that I never was before. In my desire to talk about how God has been faithful and present in our lives over the last 4 months in ways I never imagined. We are forever changed because of a little girl that never said a word. Never breathed a breath. The weight and impact on our lives is greater than any other experience - and yet she only weighed 7.6 ounces. How is that possible? She was a miracle. And her legacy lives on.

It is good to be here, sharing about Chloe. It makes my heart full. It helps me feel connected to her. I treasure everything that reminds me of her and helps me to feel close to her. There is so much more to share. But...another day. For a little while longer, I just want to "be" with my memories of Chloe.


Corie said...

Praying for you Kirsten. The emotions are so up and down. I can totally understand them and yet I have nothing magical to tell you. Just learning to "ride the wave" myself. Yikes does it hurt sometimes. I love how you said...."I wish that we could have been changed without losing her. That growth didn't require so much pain. That life could be easy instead of so hard." Oh I have thought the same exact things right along side you just 1000 miles away!!

Melissa said...

It is going on 6 months since the death of my sons and I am dreading that 6 month anniversary. I keep thinking, why does my life have to be like this...why can't it be the way it was "suppose" to be. I am so sorry for these "anniversaries" that you have to part in and I wish there was something I could say to ease your pain. Please know that you are not alone and I am sending you a hug and prayers tonight.

sumi said...

I am sorry, Kirsten. The 3 month anniversary was one of my hardest days so far. (((HUGS)))

Kenzie said...


Love you girl and praying for you as you continue on this journey. The Lord knows your heart, your pain and your deepest desires... I'm praying over those known and unknown as He answers you in His time.

Love you girl!

boltefamily said...


I am praying for you sweet friend, I wish I had some words of wisdom to make this even just a little easier. Unfortunately I don't. It is a pain that I cannot even explain. I just want you to know I think of sweet Chloe often and that she has made an impact on me. I am so thankful for her and for her amazing mama! I love you and am praying for you!


Anonymous said...

I wanted to comment on your blog, because not only have I read it and followed it, but you have a link to the OC Walk to Remember, which I coufounded.
I understand your pain more than you know, and I admire your strength.
I wanted to tell you our walk this year is going to add a perinatal hospice to its list of organizations we benefit. We hope to help other families who continue pregnancies after a fatal diagnosis.
Keep going. One minute at a time.

With prayers,