What should be the day we welcomed our baby girl into this world will
forever give me a heavy heart.
Sunday, March 23, 2014.

I’ve stared at a blank screen so many times trying to come up with the words. The words for what this day means. Although, it doesn’t nearly mean as much as the day she was born it still breaks my heart to think about this day. The day that should have been one of the happiest of our lives.

I started thinking about stories.
Everyone has a story.

I think that has been my purpose so far, her story. And that may change. There may come a time where God gives me a new story, or adds to the one I’m telling now but whatever happens there’s a story to tell here. I’m not so sure it’s entirely about Lylah either. Sometimes I feel at odds with the things I’ve shared. Like at times maybe it was too much? Because it’s about her, it isn’t truly all about me, so who am I to tell her story? But she isn’t here. And one day I hope I meet her at the pearly gates and she tells me I did the right thing. That God wanted me to do it. That I helped someone. And I brought honor to her name. That God got the glory in all of it.
I so desperately pray that’s what’s to come of this.

Everyone has a story.

My Lylah girl’s story is full of hope. The Lord sent her to us to give us hope. I love resting in the truth that God made her just for us. That WE were chosen for her. God chose her, chose us, and in that we chose her.

My chosen daughter, I would relive that day and every day of my pregnancy just to feel you one more time, to hold you one more time. I chose you. And I will always choose to tell your story, to share your pretty face, and to remember it all. I will always remember we were chosen for you.

Lylah Grace lived a life some might say with more purpose than a man who lived a hundred years. She brought many to the Lord, gave hope, left a tremendous imprint on many hearts, showed what grace, faith, hope and love mean in a time it is so very hard to believe in them. She took her final breath in the safest place on this Earth, in her Mama’s womb. And the Lord called her home. Her purpose complete.
Free of any pain, she can soar.

“The amount of time on earth matters very little: a man can live in greed and pride 90 years and never find God, know Him or accomplish His Plan. A stillborn baby on the other hand, teaches people to love, brings people to the Lord, teaches us the tenuous nature of life and teaches us a faith that those who have not suffered loss can never know. A child not even breathing for an hour, can have an impact greater than a famous preacher. The purpose of life is not ours to decide nor in our hands: it is brought about by God.”
-Author Unknown

I will always carry the weight of this with me. I’m positive I will respond in the future, that the baby I’m holding isn’t my first in fact; they have a sister watching over them in Heaven. And I’m certain my future children will know their sister. Will know her name, what she did for us, and how her purpose was fulfilled because she did so much more than most can do in a lifetime.

She led those around her to God.
She made people feel love and hope again. She did so many things before she was ever born. I’m positive her life has more meaning than anyone will ever know because the only person who is responsible for it is Him. So, I’ll rest in that.

I’ll rest in knowing it wasn’t all for nothing. I didn’t go through a difficult labor and all of the pain to be ripped away from my baby. I didn’t listen to the nurses and grief staff while they handed me the only pieces left of my daughter that I’ll ever hold, just to ignore them now. I wasn’t more excited or full of joy and love in those 21 weeks only to never feel that again. I didn’t relentlessly plan and create and enjoy the process of pregnancy, what a new baby brings to a family; to never relive it again. It wasn’t all for nothing, and I know that with more purpose now than ever before.

I’ll rest in knowing that Lylah’s life meant so much more. Without her, without all of this I wouldn’t feel as strongly, as passionately, and as fiercely as I do now about every little thing. I know for certain we are destined for more, and that’s all due to Lylah Grace.

I feel at peace when I think like that. But I also sob. And my heart feels so heavy it weighs my whole body down so much I feel like I could collapse. Because sometimes, even at peace, it just doesn’t quite seem fair. That she had to go for us to learn our truth about my body. The body God made for childbirth. One of the most beautiful things a woman can do, mine was made just a little different. But we had to lose her to learn it was different. And no matter how I dissect that, what scripture I look to find the comfort, what meaning her life had, sometimes it all just isn’t enough for me.
I’m at peace with that too.

More than anything I know I’ll never take motherhood for granted. I’ll never feel the way some women do with their children. I think it’s only something a mother can feel that has lost a child. There’s no way to understand this unless you’ve been there. I’ll never wish my days away looking for more tomorrows. I’ll hold steady in the today, because that’s all you’re promised.

 

I’m not angry with God. I don’t place blame. I understand. I accept. Sometimes I’m sad. And more often than not I find the joy. I feel alive again. I breathe without feeling like it may be my last breath. And I smile. But more importantly, I fiercely feel all of it. Nothing has changed in that truth. I feel everything so much deeper than I ever did before.

To celebrate Lylah we let off some balloons and with each one made a wish. It was a cold cloudy day until I let go of the last balloon. A little ray of sunshine peeked through the clouds, and I know in my heart that was her. We said a prayer by our tree at our farm that holds so much meaning for us.

 

Lylah's story isn't over, just like ours isn't. This little girl has done so many things, and she continues to everyday. Her spirit alone has done so much good.

I didn't think this day would be such a happy one for me. But again, I was reminded of a God that loves us unconditionally and is only trying to guide us along in His plan in His time. The gentle reminder of that made this day a hundred times more happy than what I imagined it'd be. And I'm so very thankful for a God that rejoices with us but also feels the pain we feel when our hearts are broken. 

The same God that will never leave or forsake you.

My little Lylah Grace, I carry your heart I carry it in my heart. Every day baby girl.

 

 

Grief & Anger

I woke up today with the strangest familiar feeling. I went to the bathroom and sat on the cold tile floor trying to pull myself together. It didn’t work like it usual does. I turned the faucet in the shower as hot as it would go. By this point my hands were shaking so fervently I could barely grip the knob. I stepped in the shower and let it all go. Crying so hard I made myself hyperventilate.

 

I don’t know really what did it. I had a dream that stirred me and I knew this week would stir me, just not as much as it has already and it’s not even Sunday yet.

March 23, 2014. Sunday. My due date.

You think you’re on the mend, rearing a new corner, a new outlook, new hopes, new dreams, new life, happiness, joy, excitement. And then grief rears its ugly head back at you out of nowhere. God, I truly hate this process.

I have to say, I was honestly feeling great the last couple of months. I was beginning to feel more myself in January. February brought my sense of humor back and my exciting enthusiasm for life. And then, knowing this day, this week, this month was coming somehow I was still okay. I was doing great. Keeping busy with lots of exciting birthday festiveness, St. Patty’s Day parties and parades, welcome home parties, and the hustle and bustle of the new spring season beginning. But I woke up today and it was gone. The grief smacked me in the face without any warning. And the anger, that is back a little more than it was before. So here we are. The week Lylah was due.

I wasn’t anticipating this. I wasn’t expecting to fall apart today. Out of nowhere. I wasn’t prepared. I hadn’t thought of all of the positive things to remind myself yet. I hadn’t grabbed for my journal and reread all of those initial feelings just to remind myself look at you now, you’re doing so much better. You have a real handle on how God is working things in your heart.

And like usual, I’m sure God did this for a reason too. Because I’m different. My life is different. I’m never going to be the same person again. I’m a little broken inside; I have a missing piece of my heart I’ll never get back.

This morning I was shaken to my core again. I had feelings I haven’t had in a long time. I’m angry. Really angry. But not with God or my doctor or my husband. I’m angry at the people who aren’t at my side anymore. Even family.

The week we lost Lylah we were planning my baby shower with Austin’s side of the family. It was Thursday evening. Austin’s aunt was throwing it and she was working on finalizing the details. And then, just like that it was Sunday and my whole world was gone. Everything was gone. Everything was over. No party to plan. No nursery to finish. No clothes to buy. No bottles to sterilize. It was over.
That makes me angry.

In situations like this you find you suddenly have so many people that “care” and show up in your life again, whether wanted or not. You also find people that you thought would always be by your side leave. They don’t know how to deal with your grief. And since you’re different, it’s hard accepting that. It makes me angry thinking about these people and so many we consider family that have ignored me. Ignored that day. And ignored the fact that I buried my daughter. And I’m not okay. I’ll never be okay. But it would be nice to be asked, are you?

I feel like some people think I miscarried and It went away. I think some people refuse to accept that It, was a she, and her name is Lylah. And she was buried on top of Austin’s grandparents. I gave birth. I held my tiny one pound baby the entire night before giving her to a complete stranger to take to the funeral home. So this anger came from that. Thinking that these same people will probably ignore Sunday. Ignore this week, knowing full well it was my due date.

And that makes me so angry I want to scream. I’m not okay. I’ll never be the same. The Hillary they knew is gone. I’m happy, I have joy, I have sadness sometimes, I have anger at times, and I’m different. I think differently. I feel differently. I’m angry they haven’t been by our side.

I’m angry at the stillness, the slowness of this week. I’m angry I have to feel like this. I’m angry she’s gone. That that’s all I got with her. I didn’t get the chance to raise her. Today, I’m just angry. And I know that’s a part of my grief. I know it will pass. I’ll forgive and I’ll let go. But right now, in this moment, in the midst of this season of life I’m so very angry at the silence from the people that should make their presence known.

 

Little Moments Like Stealing Eggs & Austin's 25th!

 

Last weekend was a complete shit show… like stealing an egg from your in-laws house while you’re over because you need one more for your cake, and simply running to the store is out of the question when you’re ready to pull your hair out. I’ll be real honest; it was the first time I’ve cooked for roughly 16 people. Wowzas I need some lessons.

But at the end of the day what really matters is having family all together to celebrate an important and special day to us. The hubs turned 25!! It’s not every day you reach such a milestone ;)

 

We started our weekend out with French toast and homemade berry syrup. I’m only slightly embarrassed to admit I can eat it straight out of the jar…YUMM! I baked and baked some more in preparing for our Sunday Supper that we were hosting for Austin’s birthday.

Saturday night we went out to one of our favorite local pubs with a group of great friends. You get your beer served in a huge fishbowl glass here, wish I had a picture but you will soon see I failed miserably at taking pictures this year. Austin had a great night with our friends, and I’m glad I planned our dinner out even though he said at first he hadn’t wanted to make a big deal out of his birthday this year.

Sunday came and with it went my sanity. I had to quadruple my recipe and it ended up taking an extra hour to cook than I had anticipated. Ohh lawdy. Luckily no flare ups occurred. I think everyone could tell I was on the edge of a nervous breakdown. Hosting that many people was new territory for me. I love a good dinner party and cocktails but usually they’ve been catered or potluck style. This year was entirely homemade and that’s the way I honestly like it.

Being in charge of taking pictures and videotaping for our home video collection was difficult! I think in the future I’ll hand one of those duties over to someone else because I failed at getting hardly any pictures. Oh well… ya win some ya lose some.

I made a double layered homemade chocolate chip cookie cake with chocolate icing and chocolate cupcakes. One thing I love about birthdays ever since I was young my Mom always insisted on baking our cakes, and it’s something I plan to continue with my own family. I think there is something so much more special about the labor of love put into baking your own cake for your loved one. And I love decorating them!

Austin built a bar that we used for our reception at the farm, and we’ve planned on putting it in our home just as soon as we get a bigger house. The one we are in now simply has no room for a bar area. Instead I use a little bar tray/cart I’ve made. I at least got a photo of the tray. We started with tequila sunrises with brunch, and later I made twisted teas (aka Arnold Palmers), which felt suiting since we had a 50' heat wave and served his beers of choice.

 

I’d say about half way through the day I threw in the towel and just let what be, be. I’m a perfectionist and I’m the first to say it. I had high hopes of capturing every little detail while enjoying everyone’s company, and simply marveling at my newly 25 year old hubby. It just didn’t happen like that. I didn’t get the photos I wanted, we barely have a home movie for his birthday this year, and my meal took an hour longer than I anticipated. Through it all though he reassured me everything was fine and made me laugh at myself about how worked up I got over it all.

Definitely a weekend for the books. I’m sure just another memory we’ll tell our kids about someday when mama and daddy realized again we “live for little moments like that.”

We love our favorite guy! And I'm pretty grateful I have these two lovies in my life that constantly remind me to slow down and remember the best moments in life are the little ones. After all, those little ones end up being the big ones guys!