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.