"You know, through pain, you learn a lot about yourself--things you thought you never knew you wanted to learn. And it's kind of like those animals that regrow a part of their body--like starfish. You might not feel it now. You might not even want to grow, but you will. You'll grow the part that broke off, and that growing, that blooming-- cannot happen without the pain." -Kelle Hampton


I'm reading a book called Bloom: Finding Beauty in the Unexpected by Kelle Hampton. Kelle is a mother of two, her first daughter was born healthy and her second daughter was born with down syndrome. I stumbled upon Kelle's Blog when I was pregnant with Bella. I don't remember how exactly I came across her blog, I know that during that time I had just been given the news that something was wrong, so I'm assuming that this was part of the search results. I remember reading her blog and feeling so.. inspired by her and her sweet little Nella. I saved the link to her blog, and I'd come back to it whenever I needed a little boost. On some of the hardest days, when I felt like I'd never be able to make it, I'd turn to Kelle's blog. I'd read Nella's birth story over and over until I could convince myeslf that one day I'd be able to be that strong.
When Bella was born, I was a given our own story, our own journey, and I felt that I had become that kind of strong, like Nella's mom. Anyway, I didn't go back to that blog after Bella was born. I remembered it, but I just didn't really need it like before. Recently, I was looking for something good to read on my nook, and I came across this book! I instantly remembered Nella and her mom's blog and I just knew I had to have it. I've cried thoughout most of the book simply because it's all so familiar. It's just such a universal journey, in the world of parents of children with special needs; the hurt, the pain, the guilt, the unconditional love, the gratitude, all of it.

I have to admit that sometimes I look to other people's personal experiences, simply to feel it all over again. Because I'm afraid of forgetting. Because sometimes the pain just feels good. Because it takes me back to that place that I need to leave, but don't want to.

It's the way that I imagine that people that cut must feel. That intense pain that they want to feel in order to feel more alive. I cut, in some wierd way, by reading those blogs and books and watching videos of babies that didn't make it. I desperately need to feel that familiar pain. I cut deeper and deeper until it just doesn't hurt so bad anymore. Until I feel that I can breathe. Because it's not just me. It wasn't just Bella that didn't make it. There are others out there, and I need their stories in order to go on. And I cry. And I hate God. And then I love God. And then I realize that this is really a never ending cycle. I realize that I'm doing this to myself. I'm holding on to the pain with an intense grip because letting go is just much too hard.


My second Mother's Day without Bella. It was a strange day. I wanted so badly to be considered a mother, yet when someone said Happy Mother's Day, I couldn't help but feel that I didn't deserve that. I felt as though I didn't belong to that secret club that I so badly wanted to be a part of. Some people were very hesitant, and I can't blame them. It was an awkard, "Umm.. Happy Mother's Day?" simply because they had already said it to someone around me. I wanted it, but I didn't want it in that way. I didn't want a happy mother's day filled with sympathy. I didn't want that. Not this Mother's Day, not last Mother's Day, not in the Mother's Day to come. God, it sucked. Badly. That's not how Mother's Days should be. I saw facebook posts of all the moms that had recieved flowers and Thank You's from the fathers of their children, and I had to remove myself from my social network for the day because it was just a reminder of everything I didn't have. A reminder of what I wish I had.

It's been a rough week to say the least..

We walk.. For the Love of Bella

Our team name is For the Love of Bella. The name just fits. It fits the way that Bella fit into my life.. perfectly.

This is our second year walking in the March of Dimes, and I'm really glad that we did. I'm not the most organized person in the world, but I really am working on it. Last year we arrived a little late to the walk, but this year we improved and made it on time! I did stay up until midnight the night before making sure that our tshirts would be ready, but that'll be something I'll work on next year. *fingers crossed* I'll actually get the shirts done in advance and avoid myself a lot of stress. Anywhoo, we arrived on time and we actually started the walk from the starting point, which was really cute because they played music while all the family teams started their walk. In total it's 6 miles, which isn't bad because I'd be willing to walk a million miles for Bella. It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, and the view was great.

Before the walk started, a mother got up on stage to talk about her reason for walking. She talked about how all three of her children were born premature. She explained that her second child had been diagnosed with a form of spina bifida while she was pregnant and passed away on the day she was born. She explained how folic acid helped her to have a healthy little girl after that, and how grateful she is for all the research that the March of Dimes does for these babies.

It all got me thinking. She described what it felt like to have your child whisked away to the NICU right after being born. That helpless, horrible feeling. That feeling that I, too, have known. It just hit so close to home because here she was feeling just as robbed as I did; feeling just as disappointed as I've felt. The only difference was that she had moved forward. She seemed so determined. I'm still in a place of confusion. A place where the light at the end of the tunnel seems so far, far away.

I feel cheated. I feel robbed. I know that everything has it's reasoning behind it. I know that the truth is that most of the time when things happen we won't truly understand why. I just wish there was some way to understand even a little bit. Some way to know that I'm not just a horrible person being punished for something I might've done wrong in this life or in a past life. I never had morning sickness. I didn't feel achy or cranky or irritated. I didn't have the luxury to be able to complain about a big round Belly because we didn't make it that far. I didn't have someone to decide on her name with. On the day Bella was born my mother was in the delivery room with me. I decided on her middle name alone; quickly without much thought because I just needed to get discharged in order to go see her. I didn't get to hold her right away, until 6 weeks after she was born. I drove myself home from the hospital after I had her, and then straight to Oakland to see her. I was told by her surgeon that she'd never walk in words that could've been easily reciting the weather instead of my daughters future. And you know what scares me the most? That I feel as though this has all turned into simply I didn't get to... I find myself feeling that way a lot. I feel like I'm only thinking about me, me, and me. Bella was the one that despite it all, fought with every ounce of strength she had. She was the one that, despite being born early, used every ounce of her strength to cry. She came into this world as deterermined as could be. She, at 3 lbs 8 oz, endured a major surgery that most people would never even be able to fathom. Bella is and will always be my hero. So, as I go down this list of 'I didn't get to's' and 'I'll never be able to's' I can't help but think of how much I don't have a right to complain. I can't help but realize that I've witnessed a miracle; that I've been blessed. I'm the mother of an angel.

So as we walked for the love of Bella, I couldn't help but to feel proud of our journey. I felt proud of walking in the March of Dimes. I felt proud of being Bella's mom. And next year, we'll walk again because the hope is that someday, no one else will have to go through what we went through. That every baby will be born healthy. That no mother will have to experience the pain of having to say goodbye to soon, or have to sit in a NICU for weeks because their child was born too early or with a birth defect. Someday. Someday.

Bella had a mission and I believe from the bottom of my heart that she fulfilled it. She taught us about unconditional love and compassion, patience and determination. She opened my eyes to a whole new world. Bella made my world a better place, and I hope to someday make someone else's world better too, because of her.

I love you Lovebug, and not a single day goes by that I don't miss you more than yesterday. You are, and will forever be, my pride and joy.

Happy Easter

It's strange how some holidays are harder than others. I don't know what makes them different, but some just are. Easter was hard for me last year, and even harder this year. We spent one Easter together. It was raining really hard. Bella was wearing the cutest Easter outfit, completely inappropriate for the weather, but it didn't matter because she'd be inside the whole time anyway. She spent the beginning of the day with her dad and his family and the rest of the day with me and my family. I know exactly what the contents of her Easter baskets were that year. I remember being sad that I had to "share" her that day, and then feeling guilty because I knew how important it was to let her dad and family spend time with her. I'm not exactly sure what it is about Easter that gets me, but it just does.

Easter Day 2012
Bella always has so many gifts
She continues to be spoiled, even now.

And because there isn't room for EVERYTHING inside
her bench has to be decorated too.

I'm sure that in heaven Easter is far better than here.
I know that you're smiling down on us,
my heart won't let me believe otherwise.

I've been dreaming about her a lot lately. Somtimes she's still a baby and sometimes she's older. Sometimes I'm with her and other times I am desperately looking for her. One dream in particular, I was looking for her, wondering why we hadn't been to physical therapy in so long. I kept saying that I was a bad mom because I hadn't been taking her. In my dream I kept asking where I could find Bella so that I could take her to her appointments. I could see someone holding her at a distance, and then I realized that we hadn't been going to physical therapy because Bella wasn't here anymore. It all came back, all of the emotions and the questions. I could hear myself crying, but I just couldn't wake up. I was short of breath and I was terrified. When I did wake up, I felt so unsettled. My heart was pounding, my mind was racing, and I just couldn't shake the feelings.

I don't cry a lot, and I wish that I could. I wish that I could put aside how other people might feel if I really told them how I feel. If I could only stop saying, "I'm doing okay." when really, I'm far from doing okay. I wish that I could just answer honestly, and not feel bad about it. The truth is, I've put everyone else's feelings before my own, and I'm not exactly sure who I've been trying to protect; them or me. I don't trust myself not to fall apart if I don't hear myself say that I'm doing okay. If I would even begin to say out loud the way that my heart truly feels, I don't think I myself could handle it, let alone someone else. I'm completely broken. I'm exhausted. I'm feeling defeated and weak. I'm disappointed in myself, in life, in God. I'm still fairly angry with Him, and then grateful at the same time. I miss her immensely, and every single day feels longer than the last.

I must tell you though, that I know that Bella is always with me. I just know it. I can feel it. And on some of the most unbearable days, I try to remember how brave she always was. It'swhat I use as my motivation to make it through each day. Bella was brave, much braver than I could ever be. She smiled despite everything that was happening, and as her mother I owe it to her try and do the same. She is my hero, and will always be.

Someone gave me this orchid to remember Bella by.
The card read:
"White orchids are elegant and modest..
Their pure color symbolizes innocence, humility, and grace..
A reminder of your daughter."
That was in January, and it's still going strong.
I don't believe that's a coincidence.