The Evolution of my Loss Thus Far

The pain of my loss has evolved in a way that I can't understand. I carry it with a strong and hopeful heart. I am learning to accept this unwelcome and tragic event into my story, and to let it to shape my story from here on out. I am healing and moving forward, but what I can't understand is why it hurts more now than ever before. How can the pain be more bearable each day, yet bring with it deep and vivid reminders of what will forever be gone?

Every moment of my day I think about how life would be different if she were here. I don't wake up weeping every morning, but I do start each day with a stark realization that my life is not what I had planned.

I continually let myself drown in the should-bes. I should be starting my mornings in her nursery, smiling wide and cradling her in my arms. I should be watching, with immeasurable joy, as she plays on her mat and discovers the world around her. I should be kissing her cheek every few moments, just to remind her that she is the most precious baby on Earth. I should be dancing around the kitchen, laughing with joy at the miracle in my arms. I should be rushing out of work the minute I'm allowed to leave so I can get home to my beautiful baby girl. I should be exhausted, not from grief, but from waking up during the night to nurse my daughter. My life should be so different.

All of these should-bes have made my loss so real and so vivid. Charlotte is no longer a baby that I am dreaming about, trying to picture, fantasizing about the wonderful days ahead. Charlotte is now the baby that I have lost. The daughter whose beautiful face is forever etched in my mind. She is so much more real now. I can picture, with more clarity than ever before, all the times that I am missing with her. I can feel the emptiness in my heart, in the deepest of ways. I can feel her and see her more than ever before.

My loss has become easier to bear. I am stronger now than I was even a month ago. But, it is so much more real every day. Real with the saddest clarity that she is gone, and I won't get her back.

The Dreaded "Really Bad Day"

Yesterday sucked. It had been a few weeks since I had my last really bad day. I mean of course I have had days where I cried more than usual or got more angry than is typical, but yesterday was just one of those really bad ones. I woke up crying. I showered crying. I mopped my floors crying. It was a day that felt like I was completely cloaked in sadness and despair. Nothing made me laugh or even feel the slightest bit joyful. It was like I was back in October-unable to see or feel anything but the pain of losing her.

At around noon, my husband called me and needed me to drive up to where he was working to bring him the tools he forgot. I hadn't even showered or changed out of my pajamas. I was just laying on the couch crying. But, I dragged my ass out and did my wifely duties.

When I pulled into my garage afterwards, I completely broke down. It was one of those intensely physical sobbing moments. It was loud and uncontrolled and completely reminiscent of the moment I learned she died. After about 10 minutes, though, the sobs softened and the whimpers waned. It was as if I just released weeks of built up tension and sorrow. It hurts like hell to feel the need to cry that intensely, but it also feels so much better when it's over. It was a healing moment, and I'll take those when they come.

Today is my grief hangover, so to speak. I feel drained-mentally, physically, emotionally, and spiritually. My body used all of it's energy yesterday being suffocated in sadness, so today all I could do was lay around, eat crappy food and feel sorry for myself. Maybe tomorrow will be a refreshing new start. Maybe I'll be on the up-climb again before I go crashing back down once more.

So Frustrated With My Ovaries

It's just not fair. I had to lose my first child. Not fucking fair. I have to use medication to induce a normal cycle so we can try for our 2nd child. Not fair. I have to use another medication so that my body does what it's supposed to. Not fair. I have to find out that said medication didn't work so I have to wait another 16 days before we try it again. So not fair. 

It BOGGLES my mind that some women just oops! wind up pregnant and subsequently bring home a breathing baby. How does that even happen? How the hell does that happen?

As I was sitting at my computer this morning, I finally I got the call I have been waiting for from my doctor. I was on Clomid this cycle and on day 21, Friday, I got a blood test to check my progesterone levels to see if I ovulated. The results came in--apparently I didn't. That was a really crappy way to start my morning. 

I was so hopeful yesterday. I had moments where I even thought to myself, I just know I am pregnant. I got pregnant with Charlotte after one round of Clomid, so why not this time around, too? Well, I didn't even ovulate--even though I swore that I did. Now I have to wait until I get my period, or day 40, to take a pregnancy test and call the doctor. I might actually take the test earlier, just in case there was, by some divine intervention, a mistake on the test and I actually am pregnant...ha...like I would be that lucky...

I know that I shouldn't get too down about it all. This was our first cycle of actively trying to conceive since losing Charlotte. I know a lot of women try for many, many cycles. But, I was already getting some extra fertility help. I thought I had a head start. Now, I have to just wait around and pray that time moves quickly so that we can start another round. I hope that one day I'll look back on this time and think, wow, everything happened so quickly. I lost my beautiful baby Charlotte in 2014 and was pregnant again with (insert our next miracle's name here) in 2015! Someday this time will seem short, but for now, each day feels like an eternity.

Comfort in Music

Music has an unbelievable ability to tug at the heart strings. It can make you smile or weep and feel strong or weak. It brings out a lot of emotions, especially when you are grieving the loss of your child. There have been many, many songs that I have connected with since the birth of my beautiful girl. Some of them are specifically about losing a loved one, some are about break-ups (but the lyrics still speak to me missing my daughter), and some are about being grateful for the life you're given. I want to share two songs that have been especially comforting to me in the months since I have lost Charlotte. I hope you can find some comfort in them, too.

One Day You Will by Lady Antebellum

  You feel like you're falling backwards

Like you're slippin' through the cracks
Like no one would even notice
If you left this town and never came back
You walk outside and all you see is rain
You look inside and all you feel is pain
And you can't see it now

But down the road the sun is shining
In every cloud there's a silver lining
Just keep holding on (just keep holding on)
And every heartache makes you stronger
But it won't be much longer
You'll find love, you'll find peace
And the you you're meant to be
I know right now that's not the way you feel
But one day you will

You wake up every morning and ask yourself
What am I doing here anyway
With the weight of all those disappointments
Whispering in your ear
You're just barely hanging by a thread
You wanna scream but you're down to your last breath
And you don't know it yet

But down the road the sun is shining
In every cloud there's a silver lining
Just keep holding on (just keep holding on)
And every heartache makes you stronger
But it won't be much longer
You'll find love, you'll find peace
And the you you're meant to be
I know right now that's not the way you feel
But one day you will

Find the strength to rise above
You will
Find just what you're made of, you're made of

But down the road the sun is shining
In every cloud there's a silver lining
Just keep holding on (just keep holding on)
And every heartache makes you stronger
But it won't be much longer
You'll find love, you'll find peace
And the you you're meant to be
I know right now that's not the way you feel
But one day you will

One day you will
Oh one day you will

See You Again by Carrie Underwood

Said goodbye, turned around
And you were gone, gone, gone
Faded into the setting sun,
Slipped away
But I won’t cry
Cause I know I’ll never be lonely
For you are the stars to me,
You are the light I follow

I will see you again, whoa
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, oh
'Til I see you again

I can hear those echoes in the wind at night
Calling me back in time
Back to you
In a place far away
Where the water meets the sky
The thought of it makes me smile
You are my tomorrow

I will see you again, whoa
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, oh
'Til I see you again

Sometimes I feel my heart is breaking

But I stay strong and I hold on cause I know

I will see you again, whoa
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, yeah, yeah

I will see you again, whoa
This is not where it ends
I will carry you with me, oh
'Til I see you again.

'Til I see you again,
Oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh oh
'Til I see you again, whoa
'Til I see you again,

Said goodbye turned around
And you were gone, gone, gone.

Grand Distraction List of 2015

I'm not one for New Year's Resolutions, but for 2015 I have resolved to do one thing: distract myself. I'm still riding the intense waves of grief and missing my daughter more than I ever imagined was possible, but I am also trying really hard to move forward and keep living. And the biggest part of keeping living is staying busy and distracted. If I let myself, I would be drowning in tears one minute, obsessing over my possible ovulation symptoms the next, replaying the traumatic events of October 5th (the day before Charlotte was born--the day we learned she died) the next, frantically reading about success rates of Clomid after that, and then sobbing once more. However, I can't live my life like that, so I have resolved to distract myself.

The first thing on the Grand Distraction List of 2015: card making! I have always loved to do crafty things and have dabbled in a few different crafty hobbies, but card making is one that I am super excited about. I spent way too much getting started, but hey, what else does a grieving mother have to do if not to spend lots of money? I bought different patterned papers, some paper punches, stamps, washi tape, buttons, and a lot of other embellishments. I've made a few thank you cards, some encouragement cards, and 5 Valentine's cards so far. I've got my dad's birthday, my goddaughter's 1st birthday (which we happen to share), and my mom's birthday coming up, so I will be busy busy in the crafting department. I even went and ordered a personalized Erin Condren address book. ...God I love spending money... So, instead of wallowing in my grief and obsessing over ovulation, I will be making homemade cards.

Next on the list: finishing the house decor. We own a beautiful farmhouse that was built by my husband's great-grandfather. It has been in the Larson family since 1922 (minus the 7 years before we bought it). It's in great condition, but we have had to work on each room one by one--painting, buying furniture, and decorating. Our downstairs rooms are all done and everything is cozy and country-chic just the way I like it. (Yes, I know I sound like a douche-bag when I say country-chic, but that's the best way to describe our house.) Now it's time to leave the poor college kid vibe that we have going on upstairs.  Well, most of the upstairs. The nursery is quite beautiful and peaceful....and empty. Anyways, we are going to finish our bedroom first. It has a god-awful "always kiss me goodnight" painted above one of the windows...in red paint....wrapped in green vines. It kind of looks the the previous owner painted it in blood...creepy! When we moved in I said that had to go PRONTO, but here we are almost 3 years later and it's still there. In the year of distraction, it is finally going to go. We're going to paint, finally hang up the headboard for the bed, buy new window treatments, and find a cute vanity and chair. We'll also repaint and decorate the bathroom and upstairs landing. YAY for not being embarrassed by our upstairs anymore!

Third on the list: be an awesome teacher. I really enjoy teaching and I spend a lot of time outside of school working on things and surfing Pinterest, but for distraction's sake, I will be doing even more school work. This year's kids are pretty lucky! ;)

Fourth, I am going to dabble in a little violin playing. My mom is really into music. She sings in a choir, plays guitar and piano, and is taking cello lessons, so she is very excited about this distraction. In college, I took about 2 months of violin lessons because I thought it would be a fun hobby, but I was so busy then that I didn't keep it up. Well, now that my number one goal of 2015 is distraction, I will be trying the violin again. I just feel bad for my husband and dog who have to suffer through the practicing....

It's going to be a long, hard year, but hopefully with a little bit of distraction, I will make it through. I will still be pretty preoccupied with trying to bring our second child into the world, breathing, but I am going to need to keep busy with other things, too, so that I don't drive myself over the edge. So, I'll work on my Grand Distraction List of 2015 by taking a deep breath, making some cards, spending some money at Home Goods, surfing Teachers Pay Teachers, and squawking along on my violin. This will be an okay year.

Hello and Goodbye

2014 was the year of Charlotte. For most of 2014, my every waking moment was consumed with blissful fantasies of raising my baby girl. All I thought about, talked about, dreamt about, was her. I was happier than I had ever been. Each day brought new joys and excitements and bigger plans for our future together. In October, her year changed. I was no longer consumed with glee and anticipation, but drowning in grief and loss. I spent the last months of 2014 in survival mode. Struggling my way through each day, grateful for the arrival of sleep and a short respite from my grief. But whether I was feeling immeasurable bliss from hearing the thump of her heartbeat or the aching arms of a grieving mother longing her child, 2014 was her year--the year of Charlotte.

Now I have to say goodbye to her year and hello to the next. This first day of 2015 has been bittersweet. I feel deep sorrow for leaving Charlotte's year behind, but also great anticipation that this will be our year of hope and healing. I pray this is the year that welcomes happiness back to my life. I hope that this year brings us comfort, peace, acceptance, and love of our life as it is.

Charlotte was my 2014, and I can only pray that Charlotte and her sibling will be our 2015.

Next Christmas Will Be Better

Christmas is finally over. It used to be a day that I would look forward to for months. I loved the entire Christmas season-starting the day after Thanksgiving and eventually coming to a close on New Years Day. I would be giddy over all the homemaker-y things that I love--baking, decorating, wrapping gifts, and sending Christmas cards. My husband loved Christmas, too. We would always cut down our own tree and then marvel over the gargantuan sized Evergreen tucked tightly into the corner. We would listen to Christmas carols and eat Christmas cookies until we felt sick.

This year was so unbelievably different.

I mostly ignored the fact that Christmas was coming, which was hard to do being that I am a second grade teacher and the #1 conversation topic in a 2nd grade classroom in December is the nightly mischievous antics of each personal elf. Somehow, though, everything I did in my classroom that even remotely revolved around Christmas bounced off my Grinch-style anti-Chrismas outer layer of steel and didn't make me depressed. We made Christmas ornaments for their parent gifts, I read The Polar Express, so obviously we watched the movie, too. I even printed out golden Polar Express tickets to give to each child. And oh how adorable it was when one sweet little blonde asked in the most fragile and awe-struck of 7-year-old voices, "is this for the real Polar Express?!" I was going strong. On the Thursday before break I ignorantly proclaimed to myself, I made it! I made it through 2nd grade Christmas. ... I obviously hadn't reached Friday yet.

Every year we do an all school sing-a-long in the gym. I usually eat. it. up. It really is amazing to hear almost 600 children singing "The Blitzen Boogie." Like I said, this year was so unbelievably different. Silent Night. The words were projected on the screen as we sang, "sleep in Heavenly peace." I had to leave. That was too, too much. After a good 5 minute silent sob in the girl's bathroom and few deep breaths, I made it back to my class just in time for the Penguin Polka. I survived, but it was so hard.

Christmas Eve was difficult, but I hosted it at our house and overall, I enjoyed myself. I love hosting and we played a fun grab bag and guess-which-celebrity-is-on-my-back game. I prepared way too much food, but that's ok. Now I don't have to cook today. Before we ate, we lit a white candle for Charlotte next to our nativity and had a moment of silent prayer. It was beautiful, peaceful, and perfect--just what I needed to get through the rest of the night.

Christmas morning at home was better than I expected. My husband loved his gifts, and that made me happy. We then went to my in-laws for breakfast and presents, and that was very hard. It was another moment that I specifically fantasized about doing with Charlotte. Walking in on Christmas morning, all smiles and joy, everyone fawning over our beautiful baby girl. It wasn't like that. She was missing, and I felt so empty, lonely, and sad. It overwhelmed me for a few minutes, but, thanks to my husband's strength, I pulled it together and was able to make it through the rest of the day.

Dan went to visit her grave at the cemetery and put out a Christmas floral display, but I still wasn't ready. Instead I played with Clyde and his new rope toy in the yard until Dan got home. We spent a few hours at his aunt and uncle's house, but getting cuddled up on the couch together that night was the best part of the day.

Now that Christmas is over I feel a little bit of relief. After coming off our miscarriage last October, we kept telling ourselves "next Christmas will be better." Well, here we are again. And although I am immeasurably more sad and lost this year, I still keep telling myself, "next Christmas will be better."