Bleeding Heart

And just like that, we are a week away from Avery's birthday. Her 2nd birthday. Her second birthday spent in Heaven. How is it that's it's been 2 years already? It just doesn't seen possible. 

And with June only a day away now, I'm back in 2012.  Remembering and reliving the last week of my pregnancy. The sweet time I had with Avery in my arms and that awful morning. I'm still in shock that at this time just 2 years ago life seemed so perfect. Little did I know how upside my world would turn in less than 2 weeks. 

These days leading up to her birthday and angelversary are hell. The thin, fragile stitches I've been able to slowly sew over the gaping hole in my heart to keep from completely bleeding out are unraveling. My wounds are splitting open all over again. The pain feels so fresh, so raw like its 2012 all over again. 

I want nothing more than to crawl in bed, cover the windows and spend the next two weeks hiding from the real world and just let the pain have it's way. As crazy as that may sound, it would be so much easier just to wallow in my pain than try to hide it. It's absolutely exhausting to function when your heart is being broken all over again; to put on a smile, to go through the motions of life when all you want to do is hit rewind and go back. 

I know I cannot go back, I can only go forward. I have to let my heart bleed but I also have to keep working to mend the wound so I don't bleed out. Somehow, even through a bleeding heart, I am surviving. Even if these next 2 weeks feel like they will tear me apart, I've learned over the past 2 years, they won't. 

Every day, I miss her. Every day, it hurts. Every day, my heart bleeds. Yet every day, I'm surviving. 

Connecting and Healing through Blogging

As June approaches my mind has a way of more frequently wandering back; back to the days we had Avery, the day we lost her and those long days, weeks and months that followed where life was so dark. This morning as I sit feeding Harper before the sub rises, I am brought back to those dark, sleepless nights. 

It was maybe a few weeks after and sleeping at night was awful. Every time we laid down, I was reminded of our last night with her. Going to bed, laying there in the quiet was too much. No matter how hard I would try, the sobs would come. Eventually I would try to control myself long enough so that my husband could fall asleep but once he did, they were back. I would lay and cry for hours on end.

One night I remember grabbing my tablet and just searching for anything related to baby loss online. I wanted and needed to connect with people who had been in my shoes. I wanted to see people surviving this. And I wanted to know I wasn't alone. Eventually, I came across the Faces of Loss page and found hundreds of blogs. Stories of women who had been exactly where I was, their pain and heartache spilled out across the pages of their blogs. Their innermost thoughts coming across my screen. So many of their words, I could have written myself. The guilt, the anger, the overwhelming emptiness-they had felt it too. 

I somehow felt less alone. I spent the entire night reading blogs from beginning to end. From that night forward for weeks, I passed my nights by staying up reading story after story of babies gone too soon. These women who I had never met were helping me get through night after night without Avery.  I would pass my darkest hours lost in their words. 

I don't know why today I was reminded of this. Those nights were long but through these stories a little light began to peek through the dark. Friendships were made that are irreplaceable. And because of these women, most of whom I've never met, I slowly began to find my way again. Taking life one day at a time. I am so thankful we live in a age of technology, where we can express ourselves, share our stories and connect with total strangers. Without it, I don't know where I would be. 

Thank you blogged mamas for helping me get through day by day!

23 Months

23 months since the worse day of my life.

23 months since I held her last.

23 months since she took her last breath, laying there in her bassinet right beside me.

23 months since I rocked her to sleep.

23 months since I awoke to a nightmare.

23 months of learning to breathe without her.

23 months of living with this gaping hole in my heart.

23 months of waking up without her and going to bed without her.

23 months living the life I did not plan.

I cannot believe in one short month, she should be 2. There is not a day that has passed in the last 23 months where I did not miss her with every ounce of my heart.  There is not a day that goes by when I don't think about how much different I thought my life would be today. There is not a day that goes by that my heart doesn't ache for her. 23 months without her, it just doesn't seem possible.

This next month is going to be full of so many emotions. Milestones always are. Part of me wants to hurry up and get past it and the other part of me feels extremely guilty for feeling that way. As if I'm rushing to get past her. Part of me wants to run away and be far away from normal life those days. And then the other part of me feels guilty if we don't celebrate her birthday with friends and family.  All of me however, just wants to make her happy, to make sure she feels loved and to make sure she knows we remember her always.

You would think after 2 years, I would be less confused over how to feel and what to do for these milestones but truthfully, that will never happen. This journey never will  be easy and it will always be confusing because of the love we have for her. One year celebrating may bring us joy and another it may bring us more pain. I will have to take each milestone as it comes. I need to remind myself to go easy on my heart. There is no right or wrong, only what feels the best at that time.

I wish I weren't on this path. I wish, the decision for this milestone was what theme she wanted for her party not how to remember her brief life.  The journey is never ending because my love for her is never ending. And I have to remind myself of that daily.