Hope

I follow this blog, fairly religiously. Everyday i read her posts (well, when they come everyday), i follow her story, her loss, her hurt, her faith, her newest pregnancy, and her faith. As many of you know, I didn't take the loss of my daughter very well. The troll and the Imp are my life, and i love them, with every fiber of my being, no denying that...but through both of their pregnancies, i prayed for a girl. A beautiful little girl, with dark hair and dark eyes, a mischievous smile, and bouncing pigtails. I finally had that little girl i had been dreaming of. I heard her heartbeat and saw her ultrasounds, and i watched her grow. I had pictures, and i had video, and my heart was full to nearly exploding. Never has a mother ever felt as much love as i felt that day the Dr told me i was having a "hamburger" rather than a "hotdog". Both of my pregnancies were pretty typical, i had no reason to believe this one would be any different, and then...suddenly, at 23 weeks, i lost my sweet baby girl, to placenta previa (an abruption), and instead of dressing her up, and playing with her hair, i buried her.

And That's Real.

But not too long after losing Bella, i found this blogspot. And i read this story. And reading those words made me cry. I snuggled with my blanket, pulled all the way up to my chin, and i cried. I cried for her, for her husband, for myself...for my loss. I read that blog nearly non-stop until i was caught up. I read the eulogy, i saw the pictures...and i felt like i knew this sweet baby boy, this fighter. As the days went on, i learned more and more about the mama that was writing this blog. And I learned more and more about her newest pregnancy. We followed closely, praying for positive ultrasounds, and anxiously anticipating finding out if her angel baby was going to have a brother or a sister. What came from stumbling upon this blog...was that now...i had something to look forward to, something to hope for. Her blogs are raw, and intense, and emotional. Her pictures (while amazing) are rough around the edges, and they're real. They depict things that people don't want to think about (tiny coffin, for instance?), but they tell a story. A story of hope, of faith, of trying again.

And That's Necessary.

What this blog taught me was that it's ok to move on. It doesn't mean that i dont miss her everyday. It doesnt mean that she's not just as big a part of my life and my family as she ever was. It doesnt mean that i've forgotten her...it just means that now...i can use her as an instrument in my life...a way to watch her brothers, a way to watch me. It taught me that its ok to say her name. It's okay to scream her name from the rooftops.

ISABELLA!

She was REAL. She was MY daughter, and my world. And i loved her. Regardless whether i ever met her or not. This mama taught me the importance of making room for all of my children, of trying again...to maybe have another child, and of learning How to Love Them Both. And, in my mind, at least. This is a pretty big deal. This blog, this mama, this love...taught me about hope. It took me out of that dark place i was in, that hole, and it taught me how to be whole again. How to be a mother again to my boys.. How to not be completely consumed by the hurt and the grief...how to celebrate that fact that her life even WAS rather than grieve that it's not anymore. I'm not sure she'll ever really know how she touched my life. I'm not sure she'll ever realize how MANY lives she likely touches each day...but she changed mine. And...at a time when i was pretty sure that God had finally given me something i COULDN'T overcome, she saved me.