Goodbyes are not forever. Goodbyes are not the end. They simply mean I miss you.. Until we meet again.

Saturday, January 22, 2011

Every day..

Every single day gets just a little bit harder. The unbearable pain that I was so afraid of has settled in at the pit of my stomach and doesn't seem to have any plans of leaving. There is an emptiness in my heart that I never knew was even there. It's amazing how such a tiny little person made me feel so complete. Every morning when I wake up, I hope to turn around and find her there. When I dream of her, I don't want to ever wake up. It doesn't matter if the dream is bad or good, I just want to be with her.

I dreamt that I was holding her. That she was dressed in the last outfit I put her in. Her body was still. In my dream I knew she was gone, but I wanted to hold on forever. I woke up from that dream, hoping that it was only a nightmare. Hoping that I'd turn around and Bella would be right there, sleeping peacefully. It was then that I realized that I'd never really wake up from that nightmare; for this nightmare is my new reality. It's a struggle to convince myself that each day is worth living. It's exhausting to smile and pretend that everything is going to be okay. It's tiring to hear people say that they are amazed at how well I'm taking things; as if they know exactly what I feel. They have no idea of the battle I fight every day. They have no idea what the agony feels like; the emptiness that I feel every single moment of every single day.

On January 15th, 2010, Bella came home from the NICU. I remember feeling absolute bliss as we packed all her belongings and dressed her in her "going home" outfit. We had practically moved into the NICU by that time, so her dad had to make a few trips to the car with her stuff. I remember the excitement, it was a beautiful feeling. The doctors and nurses all said their good bye's to Bella and wished us a wonderful future toether. She graduated from the NICU that day, she even got her very first diploma.
I remember stepping onto that elevator, Bella in hand, feeling like the luckiest person on earth. We were finally going home, where Bella belonged. My mind was racing with all the things we could do, all the people we needed to see, all the pictures I had to take. The drive home seemed to be taking longer than usual. When we got home, we had a few people there; and as much as I love them, I really just wanted to be alone with Bella. I patiently waited as everyone got to hold her and marvel at her beauty. I remember that when everyone left, I just sat there and admired her. It was me and her, in our own world. I don't know how long I sat there with her, I'm not even sure if I really slept that night, but I do know that I absolutely loved every minute of it. What I wouldn't give to be able to go back to that day. To hold her so dearly again, to soak in every single detail of her little face.

Memories. They float around in my head all day, every day. Everywhere I go, there's something there to remind me of Bella. I still have her carseat in my car. I carry the extra pacifier in my purse. I make sure there's always a picture nearby, just in case.. I try not to drive by the hospital, or the park, or the cementery if it's too late to go in. I miss her so much. When I drive by those places, my heart breaks just a little bit more. Sometimes I think, This is it. My heart can't break any more. It's completely shattered.. But, I'm always wrong. It's very much possible for my heart to break a little bit more. The pieces keep breaking into smaller pieces, and the pain hurts that much more each time.

Please don't tell me you know how I feel,
Unless you have lost your child too,
Please don't tell me my broken heart will heal,
Because that is just not true,
Please don't tell me my daughter is in a better place,
Though it is true, I want her here with me,
Don't tell me someday I'll hear her voice, see her face,
Beyond today I cannot see,
Don't tell me it is time to move on,
Because I cannot,
Don't tell me to face the fact she is gone,
Because denial is something I can't stop,
Don't tell me to be thankful for the time I had,
Because I wanted more,
Don't tell me when I am my old self you will be glad,
I'll never be as I was before,
What you can tell me is you will be here for me,
That you will listen when I talk of my child,
You can share with me my precious memories,
You can even cry with me for a while,
And please don't hesitate to say her name,
Because it is something I long to hear everyday,
Friend please realize that I can never be the same,
But if you stand by me, you may like the new person I become someday.

Friday, January 7, 2011

Someday.. We will meet again..

I went for a walk in the park the other day. The same park that Bella and I visited just a few months ago. We had sat under a big tree and watched the squirrels run around next to us. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and I was the happiest person alive; I so badly wanted to sit under that tree and be happy again. I wanted to feel complete again. I had so much fun dressing her that day, I had dressed her in a cute little skirt and her shirt said 100% sweet with a cupcake on it. That day is so vivid in my mind. The senior citizens that live close to the area were out for their walks and had stopped and marveled at those big beautiful eyes of hers. She loved the attention. I remember her watching them with such curiosity; the cutest thing ever. Bella felt the sun on her face that day, she felt the air kiss her cheeks. I'm glad I had the opportunity to enjoy those little moments. I'm thankful that I have those memories to hold on to.

The pictures, oh those pictures.. They have helped to keep me sane. I literally have thousands of pictures of my princess. I could look at those pictures all day, every day. There are times when it's unbearable to even think of looking at her pictures, but I always find myself looking at every single one; soaking in that smile, those eyes, everything. I can't say that it makes things easier, but it helps to remember. It helps to remind me that this amazing little person will always be a part of me.

Before Bella passed away, a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep came and took beautiful pictures of my little angel. I received them yesterday, the day before her one month anniversary. I had been anxiously waiting for them, and it was completely worth the wait. Bella looks absolutely beautiful. I'm grateful that this lady took time out of her day to take pictures of my little Bella. I honestly hadn't even considered taking pictures in the end, but I'm glad that they were taken.

"Every good and perfect gift comes from above." -James 1:17

This bear is 25 years old, it was given to her dad when he was born.
He went with Bella on her journey to heaven.
God sent us a precious gift.
A gift that was made for heaven.
I will always love you lovebug.

"Remember, each day that passes isn't another day without her; rather each day brings us closer to meeting her again." -Bella's Godmother

Monday, January 3, 2011


Faith: Confidence or trust in a person or thing.

I had never really thought about the meaning of faith. Honestly, I never really had the need to have faith in anything. Life used to be for the most part simple. Yes, there were times that I thought life was horrible and unfair because of a heartbreak or maybe a disappointment; but they were simple things that didn't take long for me to get over. When Bella came into my life, that all changed. Faith was the first thing I learned from her; the first of many things.

The first big ultrasound: I don't think I had ever been as excited as I was that day. I remember that I had counted the days down since they set the appointment date. I was anxious to see the baby and to find out whether I was having a boy or girl. The big appointment is supposed to be exciting. It's supposed to be the day that they tell you that everything looks great. It's supposed to be one of the best days; it wasn't one of my best days.
The day started out bad. My teacher was late for class, so I had to take my math test late. This made me late for my ultrasound. The tech wasn't very happy about this, which caused her to be pretty rude from the beginning. She kept telling me that she had specifically scheduled my appointment at 1030 am, not 1040 am. Blah blah blah. I was nervous, so I tried my best to brush her off. She didn't talk much during the ultrasound, and I couldn't see the screen. When she finally let me see the baby she was very brief and didn't explain much of anything. The ultrasound was taking a really long time, but I thought this was normal. She told me that she was going to get the doctor. At that point I knew something wasn't right. The doctor came in and took a look. The tech pointed at the screen, and she said, "I looked and I can't seem to find it." I remember the doctor frowning at the screen. I'll never forget her face when she turned to look at me. There was a lot of sympathy; that look said it all. Something was wrong. I remember her saying, "Something doesn't look right. There is something wrong with the baby. The head is smaller than we'd like it to be." At that instant my entire world came crashing down. I had taken care of myself. I had taken my prenatal pills. I had eaten right. I had done EVERYTHING. How was it possible that my baby wasn't okay? I asked for my doctor, maybe she could tell me something they couldn't. I couldn't stop crying. I didn't want to be pregnant anymore. I didn't want to know anything more. My doctor explained that there would be a need for another ultrasound, but she told me not to worry myself sick until then.. Sure, easy for her to say.
It had been years since I had stepped foot in church. The occasional baptism maybe, but to actually go to mass or to pray, nope. That day I left the clinic and drove straight to church. I remember sitting in the pews and crying hysterically. I didn't know exactly how to pray, but I asked God to make it better. I asked him to make my baby healthy. I begged him to fix everything. I promised him that I'd become more religious. I swore that I'd attend church as often as possible. I sat there for almost an hour, waiting. What I was waiting for I don't know. I was maybe hoping for an answer? For a sign? But none of that came. Instead, while sitting there, I came to a conclusion..
God wasn't punishing me. I could do this. Yes, things would be difficult, but this was MY baby. I had already fallen completely in love with this baby. We were meant for one another. This baby depended on me to the best mother possible. God never gives you more than you can handle.
It's amazing what faith does for you. I had faith that God would guide me through it all. That he'd be by our side every step of the way. I learned on that very day what it meant to have absolute faith; had I not been faithful, I don't think I could've gone on. I don't think I could've enjoyed my pregnancy the way that I did.

Faith. What a beautiful word. What a simple word. I live by it every single day. Its the reason I can pull myself out of bed everyday. I have faith that Bella is in a better place. I have honest faith that she is in heaven, flying with the angels.

Last night I dreamt about her. I could see her beautiful smile. I could see those pearly white teeth. The happiness in her eyes. It was my first visit from her. I know she was telling me that things would be okay.