Lovebug

On some of the hardest days I feel like Bella always finds a way to let me know she's with me... Whether it be a shooting star, a butterfly, or a lady bug, she just always seems to know when I need her; this morning was no exception. She was all I could think about this morning and I found myself feeling rather distraught.

When I arrived at my desk, I noticed a little ladybug making its way across my desk calendar... 

And I couldn't help but smile because I don't think it's just a coincidence. 

Notice that it landed on the word love?

I've always referred to Bella as my little Lovebug.

Bella would've been 3 and a half today, and I find myself wondering what she might have looked like. I can't help but wonder what life would be like if Bella were still here. I find myself fantasizing life with Bella physically here, and my heart hurts because it just knows how impossible that is now. Easter is coming up, and that's always a tough holiday for me. I can remember the one Easter we spent together as if it were just yesterday. The details of that day are so clear; her outfit, the weather, and the events that took place that day. There wasn't anything out of the ordinary that happened, but for some reason I can remember every bit about it, and I'm thankful for the memories.

These days are hard, but I do know for sure that my little Lovebug is always with me. I have no doubt about that. Bella changed my entire life, and I'm so grateful that I was given the gift of being her mother.

Allowing myself to feel...

It has been 2 years, 3 months, and 18 days; 839 days to be exact.Yet, here I am, not seeing any signs of light at the end of the tunnel. And I'm not sure if it's because I refuse to see it, or if I simply haven't walked far enough to get there. I just miss her. All the time. Every moment of every single day.

I've been emotionally all over the place lately.

I'm not happy. 

I'm actually really, really sad; a lot. 

My heart is almost always heavy. 

And I'm still in a love/hate relationship with God.

But I feel like it's that point in time where I should have a grip on things, my emotions, all of it... 

I thought I had reached that place of peace that some people talk about, but I think I might've just reached a whole new level of pain. My heart just hurts. From the outside looking in, I've done rather well. Silly me, even I thought I had handled it pretty well. But now, reality has set in. I'm not doing okay, and I'm slowly starting to understand that I don't need to be okay for anyone.

I am weak. I am hurting. I am lost. I am trying so hard to find my way, but I just haven't had the words to say that. I've only recently allowed myself to even admit those things to myself. Lately, I've been acting so out of character, I haven't been myself. At some point, I felt the pain grow more and more intense, and I ran from it. I put on a smile, I reached out to old friends, and I booked the first flight to anywhere but here. I spent a weekend being a woman with no worries. A woman who knew how to have fun. A woman who didn't know the pain of losing her entire world. I ran away from grief. I truly believed that I could outrun the pain, but clearly that's not possible. 

I tried to convince myself that this new adventurous behavior was simply part of the old me, and that maybe I was healing; too bad that just isn't true. That isn't me. I'm just scared. Scared of truly feeling the intensity of the hurt. Scared of admitting that I can't feel better just yet. I have put so much energy into 'feeling' better lately, only to realize that I'm not doing it for me. I'm doing it for everyone else. I want everyone else to be happy, so I pretend to be happy too. I can't tell them everything is going to be okay without actually looking like I believe it too. But it's exhausting to have to be strong for everyone else. I'm slowly starting to realize that it's time to take care of me. And just admitting that has already lifted such a huge burden off my shoulders. 

There are going to be times that I won't have time to see friends, or talk to them, or text them back. There are going to be periods of time where I just simply need to check out for some time. I need to just give myself time to feel sad and actually be sad. I need to stop worrying about everyone else, and just start worrying about me and my broken heart. Bella was mine. I carried her for 7 and a half months. I was there every single day of her life. I loved her with every ounce of my being. And so.. I have every right to feel the way that I do. I don't know why I feel the need to justify it, but I do. I guess what I'm really trying to say is, it's time I cut myself some slack.

I miss her. I wish that I could see her now. I wish that I could hold her and kiss her and just breathe in the beautiful, sweet scent of Bella. There isn't anything easy about losing her. It's hard, incredibly hard. And there isn't a single day that I'm not aware of how grateful I should be that she was mine. I am grateful, overwhelmingly grateful, but that doesn't mean that I don't shake my fists at God every now and then for taking her.

Deep down, I know that there is a greater reason behind all of it. Bella was made especially for me, and I was made for her. I have experienced a form of love that some people may live their entire lives looking for. I am humbled to know that I didn't have to do anything to experience it, Bella just gave it to me; a love so pure, and real, and unconditional. 

Our time may have been brief, but ultimately, Bella changed my world in more ways than anyone could ever possibly understand; and for that, I am eternally grateful.

My heart. My soul. My everything.

Happy Birthday Lovebug

On October 28th, 2009, I went into labor unexpectedly. I can still vividly remember every single detail as though it were just yesterday.

4 am: The contractions began. I tossed and turned. I paced back and forth.
6 am: I showered in hot water. Exactly what I shouldn't have done.
8 am: I called the perinatal nurse. She told me to go straight to Labor & Delivery.
12 pm: It was confirmed that I was 4 cm dilated and that Bella would be born shortly.
3 pm: I received the epidural.
6:34 pm: Bella was born.
8:30 pm: Bella was transferred to Oakland, while I remained in San Francisco.

There was a blanket of fog covering the sky when we arrived at the hospital. I can still see the bare white hallways leading towards the elevator. I can picture the big window in the operating room overlooking San Francisco. The sky had cleared, and the sun was shining. There were nurses everywhere in the room waiting for Bella's arrival. I can still hear the doctor telling me to push. I close my eyes and I'm able to see every single detail of Bella's little face, the look of dissatisfaction from being taken out of her safe place.

Child birth is an unforgettable experience. It's amazing. It's scary. It's like nothing else in this world.

On October 28th, 2010, we celebrated Bella's First Birthday. I might've gone a little overboard on her party, but honestly I'm so glad that I did. It had never occurred to me that it would be the only party I'd ever be giving her. It never crossed my mind that there wouldn't be more birthdays here on earth for Bella.
Bella's first birthday was reassurance that we had made it. That after all the obstacles and struggles, we had finally made it to the one year mark. It was an accomplishment, and I couldn't have possibly been more proud of her.

First Birthday's, First anythings are the moments that stay with you forever.

October 28th, 2011, we released balloons at the cemetery in honor of Bella's Second Birthday. It was a difficult day, yet beautiful all at once. I wanted nothing more than to curl up into a ball and wait for the pain to swallow me whole, but I couldn't do that to Bella. We gathered around the garden in the cemetery, and we released balloons for Bella. A butterfly flew right past us right before we sang Happy Birthday, and that was when I knew, Bella had been there amongst us.

This year for her birthday we gathered as a family to celebrate her life. I wanted to do something a little different and a butterfly release seemed fit for the occasion. The weather was perfect, and the butterflies lingered for a little while, as if to give us the opportunity to admire their beauty before they flew away. We sang Happy Birthday and released balloons up to heaven. The day turned out exactly as I had hoped; filled with love and gratitude for our sweet little butterfly, Bella.

The butterflies were safely tucked into these beautiful pink envelopes.

The butterflies waited for a bit before taking flight.

Bella, like the butterflies, was briefly a part of our lives and in that short time she made our world more beautiful.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl.

We hope you and your angel friends loved your balloons.

 Happy 3rd Birthday my little Lovebug. October 28th, 2009, will always be the most incredible day of my life because of you. You changed my world in the best way possible, and I will forever be grateful. Mommy misses you always, and I want you to remember something important:  For as long as I live, you too shall live. I love you, more than you'll ever know sweet girl.