Day 18: A Family Portrait

Day Eighteen: A Family Portrait

Our family portrait doesn't have our baby girl in it, which is something I regret. We always said when we did our family portraits that we'd include our Bella puppy...and we were so worried about the boys, and making sure the pictures came out the way we wanted them to that we didn't really think too much about it. My hope is that we will take maternity pictures with the boys and Bella's puppy in them...including all of our babies in one shot. I plan, in future pictures, to always include a piece of our daughter, however small, because family pictures just don't feel complete without her in them.

Day 17: Anniversary/Birthday/Due Date

Day Seventeen: Anniversary/Birthday/Due Date

Refrigerator magnets to send a message to our baby girl.

This is probably as close to a candid of me as it gets. Sitting in the yard, holding my Bella bear (Bella's Birthday Present from Daddy and I) and blowing bubbles to my baby girl. There aren't very many of these of me.

January of 2012 marked both Isabella's first birthday and the first anniversary of her death. We celebrated the way I expect we always will. We bought her a present, bought her balloons, blew her bubbles, and baked her cupcakes.Her cupcakes were covered in Fruity Pebbles, since we always joked that she would have looked like Pebbles with her fire red hair and eyes like her dads. We talked to her, we lit her candle, we cried for her, and we remembered. We'll continue to remember her that way, because that's the only way we know how. That's the way it feels right. And that's what's important to us. Every year, she'll get older, and yet she'll stay the same. And we'll always remember her...the way we knew her....kicks, nudges, big feet, and a tiny tush. Strawberries, Cream cheese, and smiling in her ultrasounds. We'll hold on to that and remember it on January 13 of every year...and every other day when she crosses our minds. Such is the norm for our life now. <3

Day 16: Release

Day Sixteen: Release

It's hard to pinpoint a picture, a feeling, or even a specific moment that symbolizes "release" for me. For me, feeling release was something that I worked so hard towards, something that I wanted so badly that it's hard to say at what point I really felt like I had achieved it. At times, I feel like it was at her memorial. Watching the balloons floating in the sky, towards the Heavens, I felt ready to say goodbye to her. I felt like I could let go. The days, weeks, and months that followed proved to me without a doubt that THAT was not the case. At times, I feel like it was when I found out we were expecting Baby G. I felt ready to accept what had happened, and what that meant for our lives. I found out quickly, after the miscarriage, and all that followed that that ALSO wasn't the time for release. I had a period of time where i felt like i needed to "get right with God". I've never been big on faith. I have it. I believe there's a God, and he's out there, and he's watching...but I don't take much stock in church. When Bella passed, my views changed. I found it a cruel God who would take from me the daughter I'd always wanted. Eventually though, I found clarity, I got right with god, and i eventually thought---again---that I'd found release. Yea, that wasn't true either. There was a time, just before I got pregnant this time, that I told myself "whatever will be, will be." I forgave myself for the mistakes I'd made with Bella, for the mistakes I'd made with Baby G. I thought about the kind of parent I wanted to be for the boys I DO have in this world, and then I thought of how BEST to keep my daughter alive without allowing her death to own me, and who I am. That day, the day I made the time to really figure me out, was the day i believe i really found release. I accept what happened, and what i can not change. I don't like it, but I accept it. I understand what I could have done differently, and what was in the hands of God. I experienced release...i experienced closure...and with that, I am free to love the child i carry fully, and completely. With the guidance from the Lord above, and my angel baby, Bella. It was a long road, but worth every emotional moment in the journey.

 

Day 15: A Wave of Light

Day Fifteen: A Wave of Light

Last year, for October 15th, and also for her birthday, Bella's candle burned. It was a candle that Daniel and I crafted with love, especially for her, that we had lit on her memorial for the very first time. Since then, it has come to represent her, during birthdays, holidays, and other important events. It's our way of keeping her close to us. This year, her candle, urn, and other momentos are put away, somewhere safe, during our transition and move. Because of that, I felt SUPER far away from her. I felt as though we were millions of years apart, and I couldn't be close to her, no matter how I tried. However, we were not about to forget to participate in October 15th, and acknowledge her with a wave of light. On that night, her daddy, me, and Emily sat on the front porch and burned lighters for her. Even though it wasn't traditional, it was for her, and it was a way of remembering her, quietly...and letting her know we still love her.

 

Day 14: Community

Day Fourteen: Community

When I think of "community" in regards to Isabella, I think of STILL Project. I've blogged about them, and in all honesty, I could go on and on for days and days about all the incredible, life changing things they're working on accomplishing. Instead, I'll link to their website and facebook pages here, and you can check them out for yourself. No such thing as a more tight knit group of people, all about the same cause, and all talking about our angel babies. It's amazing.

www.stillproject.org
https://www.facebook.com/StillProject

Check it out!

 

Day 13: Signs

Day 13: Signs

 

The butterfly is a pretty universal sign of something from "beyond the grave" so they say. Anytime you see a butterfly, you think that it's a message, a silent "I'm here." from whichever person you've lost. Bella likes to make her appearance that way sometimes, but usually...it's in smaller, more subtle ways. Tiny little reminders that she's with us everyday. It's the way she comes to me in my dreams. It's the way she makes something happen...when we're at our lowest. It's the smile that comes to my face brought on by a memory of her...when i feel  like i have nothing else. It's that special place that makes me feel close to her. It's that familiar smell. Those are all the signs that she's close to me...even though she's so very far away. The signs are all around us, the reminders. You just have to know where to look.

Day 12: Scents

Day Twelve: Scents

The smell of strawberries and ANYTHING will always remind me of Bella. Strawberries were the ONLY thing I ever wanted when I was pregnant with her. I swear throughout my pregnancy I had to have consumed 20 or so pounds of strawberries and cream cheese. It was amazing....and she craved it like nobody's business. These days, the smell of strawberries takes me back there. I remember feeling her kicks while i'd eat it, and laughing thinking that i had her on some kind of sugar high. It reminds me of heading to bed with a full belly of our favorite snack and feeling her playing with daddy....he'd tap on my tummy, and she'd kick back. It makes me miss those days. It makes me miss her.

 

Day 11: Supportive Friends/Family

Day 11: Supportive Friends/Family

This one is impossible! There would be no way  I could picture everyone who took part in the outpouring of support following Bella's death. Daniel and I didn't handle her situation very well, and I can see that now. When we found out I was pregnant with her, we told literally no one. They made it clear to us from the start that it was going to be a complicated pregnancy, and the father along we got, the less likely it seemed that we'd hold her in our arms. Because of that, we kept waiting and kept waiting for to see a Dr who would say something different. A Dr who would say "Sure, tell everyone. You absolutely will take her home, and you WON'T have to explain to hundreds of people what happened to your daughter.". THAT was the painful thing we were trying to avoid. However, we could never have imagined how far along in the pregnancy that we'd lose her, how hard it would hit us, how changed our lives would be, and how much it would rock our world. It didn't occur to us that we'd have to have that conversation at some point anyway. And so- We told no one. And then, all of the sudden, she was gone. And we had to grieve for her. We had to talk about her, we had to. So we posted on Facebook about our loss, we wrote letters to our daughter. We posted pictures of her sonograms. Literally everyone important in our lives met our daughter and learned of her....the day we said goodbye. I have a lot of regrets about that in a way...but in another way, it let us grieve her without having to talk about it a ton. Having said that...there weren't many people who DIDN'T offer a kind word, a supportive gesture when they felt the time was right. My dad, my mom, Daniel's parents and grandparents. My momma Gina. Renae and Paulina, Jessica, Nikki, Jerri, Felicia, Rhetta, Britt and Auntie Shelly. There are just so many people, that I KNOW for a fact that I'm going to miss a bunch of them. There are a few people though, especially those mentioned above who stood out in my mind, and still do. These are the people in my life who STILL talk about her. Who still ask me how I'm doing with the whole thing. Who still mention my loss, and aren't afraid to talk about it. Who still say her name.  People who constantly check on the progression of my new pregnancy...both physically and emotionally---knowing that (even if not through experience) I must spend the better part of my time just wondering when the bad news will come. And I do that. A few people...they get that. And they still support me. And a bunch I know I've mentioned...and a few I'm sure I've missed. These posts are so hard emotionally, that I spend pretty much the whole time I'm writing them crying, and the whole time I'm posting them. So anyone I've missed, please forgive me...and know that i DO know who you are....and I appreciate you. To those of you who supported me, and continue to---you don't know how important you are to everyday of my life. Without you to turn to, to talk to, to cry with....i'd never have made it through this...and i couldn't continue to make it. For those of you who WILL support me. Those who i hope to someday change with my story---those who will unfortunately become that 1 in 4...I'll be waiting. And we'll make it through each day together. I don't have to look hard to see how truly blessed I am. I know I have a support system that doesn't leave much to be desired. You're all amazing, and from the bottom of our hearts....Daniel and I thank you.

Day 10: A Symbol

Day 10: A Symbol

This symbol surrounds my life. One in Four women will be "the face". One in Four women will lose their child. This symbol is a reminder that I am the face, I am that one in four. The pink symbolizes that my loss was a daughter. Every year in October, I set this as my profile photo on Facebook...to tell others that I am the face. It's something that it's impossible not to know about me. I talk about her all the time...I mention her all the time, I don't let myself forget...thus...others don't likely forget either. To me...this symbol represents everything that we go through as parents who have experienced a loss. It's raw. And it sucks. Everyday, I am that one in four. And there's nothing i can do about it.

Day 9: Special Place

Day Nine: Special Place

This is the only "place" for Bella that I have. In my house, wherever I live, There will always be a wall....a place with all of her things where I can go to talk to her, think of her, and remember her. It's full of her things...it's very much her place. I go there when I'm tired...or lonely. I sit there when i think of her...and when i cry. Someday i'd hope to have a gravestone for her...somewhere to celebrate her birthdays and angelversaries, and all those other important days. For now though, this will have to do.

 

Day 8: Jewelry

Day Eight: Jewelry

The only piece of jewelery I really have regarding Bella is a pin that Momma Gina bought me, and one my Cousin Jerri bought me. They're symbolic of the loss, and what they meant to us...and that she's always with us. 

Day 7: What To Say

Day Seven: What To Say

 

 

 

One thing that not nearly enough people said to me was simply "I'm here." I'm here if you need to talk, if you need anything....I'm here. People didn't want to talk about her, people didn't want to think about her....most people just wanted to pretend it never happened...it's easier that way. At least for them. For me though, it was painful...and all i wanted was someone....ANYONE to let me talk about her. To just listen. To want to.

Day 6: What Not To Say

Day Six: What Not To Say

There are a million things, being the mother of an angel baby that I would NEVER say to a grieving parent. But honestly, looking back on a time before that, it never would have occurred to me why those things were so bad. They seem like the most comforting things to say, the things that make the most sense, and yet it's often THOSE things that hurt the worse when we're grieving. I heard a lot of "reassuring" words right after my loss. And I mean, a LOT. But this one in particular drove me nuts. It still does. The fact is, regardless what our situation was when I was pregnant. Whether we had tons of money or none, whether we had everything or nothing, the death of a child is NEVER "for the best." Stop saying that. We hate it. How could ANY place, Heaven included, be better than in our arms, with us, where they belong...where they're meant to be?

Day 5: A Memorial

Day Five: A Memorial

This pretty much sums up Bella's memorial service. Daniel and I created her shadow box...which was to be full of the things we wanted her to have...but would never get to buy. It had flowers....to remind us of the bloom of love she was...there were butterflies, to remind us that anytime we see one, she's there. The outfit, shoes, socks, and pacifier in her box were a labor of love. We went into Babies R' Us, fully aware of what we were there to do...and yet---we couldn't help looking around us at all of the things that we SHOULD have had months longer to buy. We settled on an outfit that we thought would have been something we'd want to take her home in, some cute little sandals, lacy socks, and a pacifier with "Isabella" on it. $80.00 later, our hearts were broken, but our box could come together, and baby girl would be dressed. Everything was made from scratch. The programs from her memorial were made by me, written by Daniel, and we just had them printed at Fed Ex. Keepsake bookmarks were also made by me, and were more for Daniel and I than anyone else. We bought her Urn from Hobby Lobby, and to this day, I find it to be perfect for her. The ceremony was short and sweet, and full of meaning. Daniel's mom spoke, Daniel spoke, the Reverend spoke, and Renae sang. It was beautiful. Gina and Jason lit their candles, and together lit Bella's memorial candle...(which we also hand-made)...and then we all went outside to release our balloons in memory of her. It's something we still do. That day defined me. Who i was as a person...who i'd be...where i'd go from there. In a lot of ways...it still does.

 

Day 4: A Treasured Item

Day 4: A Treasured Item

This snow globe was the first thing Daniel and I bought after Bella died. It's easily the most important material thing to come out of this experience. It plays "The Lord is My Shepherd" and is engraved with:

Isabella Ann Marie Gilman

"Bella"

Born Sleeping January 13, 2011

"Too Beautiful For Earth."

I wound that music box and listened to it play every night before bed. Daniel and I would mute the TV, make sure all was quiet in the world, and just take the time to "spend time" with our baby girl the only way we really knew how. Some months later, while the boys were "spending time" with Bella (something they knew they weren't supposed to do), Logan threw it against the wall, and it shattered. Every bit of me felt like I lost her all over again. It was....an unrealistic feeling. The water from the globe soaked the floor, the stars and glitter that filled it littered the carpet, and shards of glass were everywhere. I fell to my knees, screaming...and spent the next 1 or 2 picking up those stars one at a time and holding on to them...as if i were holding on to a piece of myself. We cleaned up the mess, and put up the snow globe. No more could i hold it, listen to it's music...use it as a way to feel close to her....and i hated that. Eventually we'll replace it, but for right now, it's up on her shelf...nothing more than a memory.

 

Day 3: Self Portrait After The Loss

Day Three: Self Portrait After The Loss

I'm torn over which picture to use for this post, so I'm going to use two. The one above is me, just days after saying goodbye to my baby girl. In fact, I think this was the day after I left the hospital. It was my Dad's retirement ceremony, and I'd promised I'd be there...and so I was. I remember the difficulty I had putting on a brave face...and smiling..when all i really wanted to do was cry. Definitely didn't feel like celebrating, when I had just lost something so important to me. Several weeks later, the picture below was taken.


This was Daniel and I the day we officially said goodbye to Bella. We'd been prepping and prompting, and preparing ourselves for her memorial service...telling ourselves it would be the closure that we needed. In truth though, it didn't make much of a difference. Things were much the same. The only thing different was that we were changed. No longer were we concerned with trivial things...and we often carried the attitude "It could always be worse....at least we're together." We often keep that attitude now. Losing Bella taught us one important thing...something I don't think we'd have truly learned without her. It taught us how much we needed each other...and the importance of another shoulder. Of sharing our feelings, of just...being together. When times are hard now, we remember what she taught us...whenever we're hurting...whenever it's hard....at least we're together. Losing Bella forced us to look at the world differently. It forced us to see the bad in something so good. It taught us that pregnancy isn't always a peaceful, beautiful journey. Sometimes it's painful...and sometimes it hurts. It taught us about death. In a way that we'd never been acquainted with it before. It taught us that it's ok to cry. It taught us that it's ok to remember. It taught us that we were different...and that we always would be. It taught us that only few people would ever understand...and most people won't ever talk about it. And THAT taught us that we HAVE to talk about it. Moving on without Bella has been difficult, and each journey following it has been bittersweet. While rejoicing that she was and thinking of everything she could have been, we are forced to remember that she's not. She never will be...and each day, week, month, and year of our lives will go by without her. Her brothers will never know her...not really...and neither will we. No longer full of hope....no, we were changed.

 

Day 2: Self Portrait Before The Loss

 Day Two: Self Portrait Before The Loss

Looking back on this picture, I have no idea who this person is anymore. In this picture, I was getting ready for a date with my hubby. I was several months pregnant with Bella, and never imagined that that pregnancy would end in a memorial. I also never had an any idea how much that pregnancy, that experience would change my life. There's not much to say about this picture, this day. I was full of expectations, life, and happiness. Our situation was hard then, but we were in love, had two great boys, and were finally expecting our daughter. What really could have been better than that? We certainly were naive about the many things that could go wrong in a pregnancy. With two pregnancies so healthy before this one....we didn't  have any reason to think Bella's would be any different. How wrong we were.

Day 1: A Sunrise

Day One: Sunrise

It's powerful what a sunrise can do. It can make you take pause, think about the day before you...and just how lucky you are to have seen it come. It came make you think of the wonder of the world...how such beauty can happen and change before our eyes. However...for moms and dads all over the world, a sunrise is the start of the day that their child will die. A sunrise is a symbol of the beginning of the day when they'll carry that casket to the cemetery, and bury it beneath the cool, wet, earth. It's symbolic of everything that we hate about the world, and the remembrance of the last thing we saw that was beautiful before we stopped paying attention. Since I lost Bella...i can't remember the last time i looked at the sky...amazed at what was before me. Entranced by the beauty of the world, captivated by the stars in the sky. Instead...I lost sight of what was beautiful about the world, and focused on the ugly. The ugly truth that means that people get cancer, accidents happen, and yes...innocent babies die. This month is about overcoming that ugly truth...and getting back to the beautiful. Remembering the sunrise again.