Thursday, February 18, 2010

October 15th

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day...

We celebrate every year, along with the families of so many children gone too soon. We celebrate it every year and, for some reason, I've failed to share that on my blog. So share I will. Here are some pictures taken of our "Sunday candle" last October 15th, as Keely's waterglobe played Brahm's Lullaby.

Friday, February 12, 2010

a heart in the snow

I was finally able to go visit the cemetery. It was still a bit treacherous, but I've been there in worse. It's so peaceful there in the snow. The sun was bright and the snow drifts sparkled. I dug out around Keely's stone so that I could repair the butterfly that had fallen off from wind and uncover the candles we placed for Valentine's Day as well as the rose left by my mom, Keely's Nannie. Only tracks from bunnies were there. I drew a big heart in the snow, above where Keely lays. I wish I'd had a camera to take a picture of it because with the wind, it's probably gone already. But now it can be special between just her and her mama.

"Dawn is born at midnight" Carl Jung

Tuesday, February 9, 2010

this is the time we had you, Keely

This time of year always makes me think of my girl.
This is the time of year we recorded a video diary everyday of pregnancy.
This is the time of year we got snowed in so I could take advantage of snuggling up my belly and my living son.
This is the time of year we braved the cold to go baby shopping.
This is the time of year that gives us peeks of spring weather, enough to go to the park one day or be tricked into thinking it's later in the year than it is.
This is the time of year Keely lived.
This is the time of year we could feel her kicks so strongly.
This is the time of year we chose names.
This is the time of year I felt SO sure she was a boy (you can't be right EVERY time!)
This is the time of year I last was naive, so sure, invincible.
This was the time of year I had you, living.

Sunday, February 7, 2010

my favorite movie spawned another special moment

Steel Magnolias has been my favorite movie for many years. I've often quoted a line from it that is probably my favorite quote (which is saying a lot for a quot-aholic like myself).

"laughter through tears is my favorite emotion".

So very, very true.

I watched the movie Friday night, as I have many nights. My sweet husband came in from working at the computer to the scene where M'Lynn is standing alone at her daughter's casket after all the other mourners left the cemetery. He said to me "I bet when you watched this movie as a little girl, you never thought you'd know how she felt".

It means so much to me that he thinks it and maybe even more importantly that he said it.

"there was no sound, no tremble. just peace" M'Lynn's description of Shelby's passing, a description very similar to my memories of Keely's final moments

Friday, February 5, 2010

we'll always be different

In the early days of Keely's passing, we were overwhelmed with support. So many came out of nowhere to hold our hands and shed tears with us. As time passed, the numbers willing to say her name were less and with each year, the "rememberers" are fewer.

Now, nearly 3 years into this journey, I feel more "normal". I can walk through the mall not wondering if every stranger could see it in my eyes, wondering if they too, had lost a child. I can confidently and without fear tell a stranger that I have 3 children and if the convesation persists, explain my stance. I am a proud mother and while not all of my children can be seen at my side, they are there and they are represented. But while I'm becoming more comfortable in my new normal, there are moments, days, sometimes weeks that the blaring, vast differences between myself and the non bereaved pound away at me. Sometimes without great "aha" moments, most of the time completely unforeseen, I'll remember or be reminded that we are different.

This difference has introduced me to some of the best friends I have in this world. I have been introduced to friends who "know". Despite loving Keely and trying to know, these other mothers KNOW. We can say our children's name in celebration without an awkward moment of trying to find words when we know all too well that there are none. I'm am so grateful for these moments with these mothers, who are like me. I'm grateful for my other friends who try to know but am filled with reminders that we are different. At least in this one, profound way, we are different. That's okay too.

"There is a great difference between knowing and understanding: you can know a lot about something and not really understand it." Charles F. Kettering

Thursday, February 4, 2010


The snow and ice is keeping me from visiting the cemetery (an hour's drive away) yet again. I miss visiting my little girl's resting place. It feels strange to not get to visit often right now. My mom will run by to check on things for me, though, so that's a comfort.

Monday, February 1, 2010

the new Duggar addition...

I watched the Duggar birth special last night. In fact, I'd been waiting for it since their little girl's birth.

1 lb. 6 oz. Just 3 oz bigger than Keely. It's so rare that you see a baby so very tiny and even more that you see a baby so very tiny alive. A little screaming, breathing miracle; just about the same size, just about the same age. If Keely had the chance to take a breath on this earth, she might've made it. The little diapers, the little hats; so similar.

I cried so hard last night. I cried for my girl and our heartache. I cried for the Duggars and how afraid they must be. I cried for all of us missing those little tiny hands and feet. And I cried tears of joy for them because Josie is alive and tears of joy for us because we had the gift of Keely and our boys. I will count my many blessings and name them one by one.