Thankful!

Faded Memories

Last week we visited a friend of ours who was pregnant and had been taken to Peoria to be monitored.  We were already there for Clay's liver sonogram so it was easy to stop by her room to say hi.  It was the first time I've been back to the Labor & Delivery ward there since I gave birth to Braelyn.

I honestly did not have feelings of sadness, or any other emotion really, as we walked through those halls.  I don't remember much from my hospital stay because I was on many drugs and so sick that it all just blurs together.  The area didn't look familiar at all to me.  Matt told me as we were getting on the elevator that he remembered waiting for me to be brought down from the helicopter at that exact spot.  It got me thinking that I wish I had more memories from the 5 days I spent there.

I wish I remember the room number that I was in.  I wish I remembered more about the nurses who cared for me.  I wish I remembered more of the helicopter ride.  I wish I remembered every single detail of Braelyn's movements and kicks.  I wish I remembered the conversations I had with everyone.  I wish I remembered what the doctors were saying to us.  I could go on making wishes for everything, but it's not something I'll ever get back.

I've always been a big blog reader and lately I find myself reading blogs of other mom's who have dead babies.  Matt tells me not to read them because they are sad and depressing.  But I realized that I've been reading them to make myself feel.  Every single day is one day farther away from the day I met my daughter.  The memories that I do have are faded with time.  It's not fair I only got half of a day to spend with her here on Earth.  I don't remember what it felt like to hold her in my hands anymore, only that I she was so small.  Not many people talk about her very much and I think it's because it happened 3.5 years ago, so a lot of people in my life now don't know about her.  I still struggle with the question "how many kids do you have".  It's just so awkward to say 3 and then the next question is always "how old are they".  How do you answer that and not make someone uncomfortable?  I've been talking to Cole about her a little bit, but he is still too little to really understand it.

By reading blogs of losing babies I feel a connection that others can't understand.  It brings me back to the emotions and memories that I have tucked away nicely in my mind.  The sad blogs make me feel validated that I don't ever have to stop thinking about her.  Not a day passes that she doesn't enter my thoughts.  I may not talk about her a lot either, but she's always with me.  There are days that I'm so thankful that she is not alive and suffering but there are days that I'm sad she is not here with me regardless of what her health would have been like.  Raising boys is a lot of fun and I wouldn't trade these two crazies for the world, I'm only sad that I don't have a daughter to bond with and do the things mothers and daughters do.  Someday in Heaven we will have a lot of catching up to do!

I'm definitely so thankful for the promise of everlasting life in Heaven.  I will be reunited with Braelyn some day in the future and we will be blessed enough to spend time together and really get to know one another.  I hope that I can do enough on this Earth to make her proud of the mom that I would have been to her.  I hope that I can raise her brothers to be full of compassion, love and to be focused on family.  For now though, I'll just have to settle for watching for subtle signs that she is always with me.

Old Gray Slippers

These slippers were once brand new. 

Bought on the same day my baby girl was born that October.

The color gray, just like the haze that was filling my life at that moment.

They kept my feet warm as I was wheeled to the NICU room to see her.



They were worn as I held her as she took her last breath.

They were there as her tiny heart stopped beating.

The slippers came home from the hospital with me because I had no other shoes.

My feet were warm, but my heart was empty.



These slippers were put away in my closet for quite some time.

They held memories so dear, I could not get rid of them.

But the memories also kept them from being worn.

I knew some day they would be needed again.



Through times of uncertainty and waiting, they were on my feet.

They kept me comfortable after medical procedures and needle pricks.

The slippers were on my feet as I heard "you're pregnant" again.

They were there when my heart started to regain hope.



Along came a new baby boy in the month of December.

My feet were cold, in need of warmth.

The slippers carried me into his room several times at night when he needed me.

Propped up on a stool as I nursed him and stared at his sweet little face.



These slippers followed the boy around as he grew.

They have stepped on many cars, trucks, and tractors.

They have run to him when he calls "mommy" or wants to be chased.

Keeping my feet cozy while I hug him before bedtime.



In the month of September we welcomed a new baby brother.

The slippers fit the form of my foot perfectly by now.

Worn again in the middle of each night as I softly tiptoe to his nursery.

Waiting to chase two little boys around my living room and listen to their giggles.



These slippers are now so worn and tattered. 

But they have been part of the journey of each of my children's beginning.

There are no other physical possessions that I can say the same about.

These slippers are so much more than something that just covers my feet.