5 not 6

I went to a baby shower for a dear friend when I was just 13 weeks pregnant with Avery. She was 29/30ish weeks pregnant and expecting her second. At the shower there were 5 of us all pregnant. One who went into labor that day and the rest of us spread over the next 7 or so months. We took a photo of all 5 of us, varying bump sizes. Over the next few months each of us welcomed sweet babies into this world. 

I looked forward to Avery being just 2.5 months younger than one of my best friends kids. I saw family vacations, lots of fun playtime as we got together and watching our kiddos grow up together. We all know that didn't turn out the way I imagined. 

Most days, I've tucked Avery into her special place in my heart. Most days, I have no idea what it would be like to have an almost 3 year old. She's still that tiny baby in my head. And unfortunately, that's how she's always going to be to me. But this past weekend I got a glimpse into what it would be like to have a 3 year old. My friend and her family came to visit. My friend and her son, the one Avery should be playing with. There he was in all his 3 year old glory. Running, talking, playing, potty trained, independent yet still in need of good snuggles. 

Somehow it didn't really sink in how much Avery was missing until we tried (unsuccessfully) to get all 5 of them to sit, stand and face the camera. Little E, who should be Avery's playmate, refused to sit with the rest of the group, resulting in a big gap. A big gap where Avery should be. There should have been 6 of them in that picture. Avery should have been playing with the kids, should be in that picture and should be keeping me on my toes. 

1:4 will lose their baby. I had no idea when taking that picture at that baby shower that was the statistic. I was 13 weeks, we were in the safe zone. But we weren't. 

Unfamiliar Territory

I've hit an odd place in my journey. 

Early on the tears flowed like waterfalls. Everything was dark, pitch black. There was no hope, there was no happiness, just a black hole of never ending pain.  And I truly couldn't imagine a life that was any different. I mean, how could I? 

My. 

Daughter. 

Died.  

It seemed like it would be a life sentence of misery. Even when on the outside, I put on my fake smile, I was dying on inside. 

As time moved me forward, the darkness slowly started to lighten and I was somehow being pulled out of the black hole. Smiles that were genuine began again. Laughter came but just as often as their were periods of happiness, there were equally periods of deep sadness. Some days I truly felt crazy. Who goes from having a great day to a heap of a person sobbing on the floor? I did. And sometimes multiple times a day. The grey period was interesting; learning to navigate my emotions, learning to live without a piece of my heart, learning how to move forward without moving on. 

And then it happened, the rainbow after the storm. And I have to admit, I am very hesitant to write this so let me be clear, a rainbow does NOT replace the child lost, does not mean the parents have moved on or that they will no longer be sad and long for their baby gone too soon. Having Harper brought so much hope and love back into my broken heart.  Her first year of life was trying to say the least. And I had about a million panic attacks thinking I would

lose her too. She keeps us busy, she makes us smile, she makes us cry, she makes our hearts fill with so much love. She makes me wonder a thousand times a day what Avery would have been like. And she never stops surprising us with her sweet love for her sister. 

She has brought light back into our dark lives. She has taught me that it's truly ok to be happy, to love, to smile, to laugh. She has been such a blessing and has helped me so much on my healing journey. I think she's part of the reason I feel like I am in such a odd place right now. Maybe odd isn't the right word, maybe it's just unfamiliar. 

I'm in a new place where I no longer feel the need to wear Avery on my sleeve. Early on, I needed to tell every person who would listen about Avery. I needed to scream her name from rooftops, I needed to do as much as possible to outwardly remember, recognize and honor her. But I'm not there anymore. For a while I felt guilty for feeling that way. Like I was ready to pack her up and move on. But I've come to realize that's not what I am doing. I've come to a place where I don't have to do the outward things to feel like her mom. I don't have to scream her name for a to hear to show the world my love for her. I don't have to prove to anyone she existed. I know she existed. I know how amazing she is and I know how much I love her, how much I think about her and how much I miss her every day. 

This place is unfamiliar. I don't know what it means. And that scares the hell out of me. I don't know how to manage this new place. But as I've been doing for almost 3 years now, I plan to just take it one day at a time and see where I end up. 

Experiences

This time of year I am hesitant to take a look at my daily time hop app. Some days they are all Harper but others there are bittersweet, heart wrenching reminders of Avery. From now till June, she was very present in my growing belly and in our arms for those 6, all to quick, days. Monday, this was my bittersweet reminder of what I am missing. I wanted badly to take amazing trips with Avery and share the world with her but that was taken from me. And as I started to let my mind wander to all that Avery (and I) were missing out on, I thought back to all that she did get to experience. 

Before I knew I was pregnant, I spent a long weekend in NYC visiting my former college roommate and one of my absolute best friends, Sarah. And while I didn't know it until a few days after I arrived home, Avery was with me for that trip.  She was around 4 weeks at the time and got to experience all of NYC as a little gummy bear.

Avery got to experience Times Square, a Broadway show, the Statue of Liberty, Rockefeller Center, Central Park, Macy's, lots of amazing food and lots of great shopping. She flew on a plane. She rode in a NYC taxi and the subway. And that is not all she was able to do while she was with us. 

Avery went on boat rides, saw beautiful sunsets, went to the beach, the spa, the movies. She visited the Keys twice. She went shopping, had amazing fondue, heard Christmas music and experienced a Thanksgiving dinner. She went to work with me and cuddled up with her Daddy and I on the couch. 

She spent 9 months and 6 days knowing nothing but love. True, unconditional, never ending love. I didn't get to show her the beautiful sights of the world, but she has now seen more than I ever will in this life. And through her brief life she has shown and taught me so much more about life than I ever thought possible.

Life isn't how I planned but now it's all about perspective

and how I choose to live the life I have been given. And I will continue to do so in a way to make both of my daughters proud.  

Unplugging

From the title of this post one may assume the subject matter will be about how we need to utilize technology less, put down our phones, live life, etc, etc. and while I do agree with those statements, that's not what this is about. Well, actually it is but not in the sense most would think. This post is about my safety blanket, my peace of mind, my angel care monitor. 

If you aren't a new parent or you haven't lost a baby to SIDS you may be thinking, "angel care monitor, what is that?" So I will fill you in. 

The angel care monitor is a baby monitor. It connects my bedroom with Harper's. When she cries, I can hear her.  This lovely device also has video. So, not only can I hear her when she cries but I can see her too. I can watch her playing, sleeping or losing her mind if I take to long to go to her room. So why is this monitor so great? The big selling point for me wasn't these features. Let's be honest, there are a million other monitors with those features (and better cameras) but what this monitor has that others don't is a movement sensor. These is a sensor under Harper's mattress that senses her breathing. If it doesn't detect movement, it alarms me to check on her. And on the monitor in my room I can lay and watch the little pendulum swing with each breath. I can literally watch her breathing. 

This machine has given me restful sleep, something I didn't think would ever be possible after losing Avery. That is until recently. Lately, my sweet, little, innocent Harper has decided she will sleep great but keep me up. She now likes to do a sleep crawl around her bed at night. She loves to squash herself up in the corner in a tiny ball, knees tucked under her. Cute yes, problematic for me, yes. The problem with this is, her chest is raised off the bed and she's as far away from the sensor as she can get. Needless to say, Harper is giving us multiple false alarms every night lately. And by multiple, I mean like 6+. 

My once loved peace of mind monitor is now doing the opposite and keeping me up. One would think the easy solution would be to stop using the sensor. And yes, that would be the easy thing to do but my life is no longer easy and I can't. I have this completely irrational fear that the first time I try to let her sleep all night without it something will happen and she will stop breathing and I won't know. I won't know until it's too late and I will have to relive that horrible nightmare all over again. 

Irrational, yes. But can anyone tell me without a doubt that will not happen, no. And because of that I cannot simply unplug the damn thing like I would love to. I would love to be a normal mom. Once who doesn't have the crazy woman monitor in her baby's room. One that doesn't have to see the pendulum swinging every time she wakes up at night. One who just does a peek in to check on their baby. Not the one who absolutely cannot sleep without a machine telling her it's all ok. 

When you lose a child, rational thoughts seem to go out the window. Your paranoia increases a million times more than the normal parents. Nothing is as easy as just simply unplugging that sensor.  The sad thing is when it does sound, I'm numb to it. I'm not even afraid that something is wrong. So why can't I pull the plug?!?!?

I'm addicted to this piece of machine. I can't let it go. I can't sleep without it and if I try, I'm paranoid and I end up turning it back in and falling into the old routine. Just a few more weeks I keep telling myself. Once she hits one and the SIDS risk diminishes. Once she hits one.  Until then, I guess I'll just wait for the inevitable false alarm. Back to living on a few hours of sleep and lots of caffeine I guess. 

Christmas is coming

I've been waiting for the day when I could send out cute photo Christmas cards. When we first got married, it was just us and let's be real, nobody wants a card with pictures of a newlywed twenty something couple on it. So we waited. Then Avery was coming and I looked forward to Christmas and getting her all dolled up for Christmas cards. Her first Christmas she would have been 6 months old. I had the cards all laid out in my head. Those cards never happened. Nothing I had planned happened. So I gave up on the perfect Christmas card idea. 

That was until Harper came. I've been looking forward to her first Christmas. She's almost 11 months and is so much fun. We spent a cool November morning at a Christmas tree farm taking pictures for our cards. I planned to bring the Avery best with us, but it was wet and a hike through long, wet grass to get to the photo spot. In fear of getting the best dirty, I left her in the car. It wasn't a big deal at the time. I planned to take some pictures at home for Christmas with Harper and the Avery bear. But once we received out pictures back of Harper my heart broke. 

I hate that I have 2 beautiful girls but only one gets to be smiling in our pictures. I took some of Harper and the Avery bear in front of our tree, but it's not the same. It's never going to be the same and it's never going to be what I want. Never. 

My next dilemma can when it came time to make those perfect little Christmas cards I've been picturing since we got married. I had the oictures, even if they weren't how I imagined, both girls had representation. I found a cute design, picked the pictures to be used but then stopped when it came time to sign them. Do I include Avery and risk people thinking I'm absolutely weird for including my dead daughter? Oh do I leave her off and add another huge crack to my already overly scarred heart? I chose the later. 

I picked up the cards this week and thy really do look great. It just still breaks my heart that she's not there, sitting next to Harper, smiling, posing and hamming it up like her little sister. I'm sure I'll go through this same heartache very year. Maybe one day it will get easier. But this year, it still sucks. 

In so many ways Harper has helped heal our hearts but there are equally so many times where having her here and getting to experience things as parents is an ever present reminder of our missing piece. 

To be honest, I thought I was ready for Christmas but really, I'm ready for it to be over. 

Tomorrow makes 2.5 years since we lost her. 2.5 long and painful years and tonight I just can't keep it together. Can someone please push fast forward and get me past this month?

Capture your grief 2012

I initially decided to participate again this year because I find this project to be healing and eye opening. I started off strong but found myself having a hard time towards the end. It was actually in the day of self care. I was mentally and physically exhausted from a busy month so I decided to take a break. Part of me feels like I failed, whereas the other part of me knows the project is for me so there is no failing. Here are the days I completed:

Day 1: Sunrise- Titusville, Fl

With every new sunrise, I'm reminded it is a new day, a new chance to make a difference in this dark world. This is my 3rd year participating in this project. This year, I am in a new place. A place where I've found healing (and am still finding healing daily) but one where I am beyond honored to be given opportunities to help support others who are on this healing journey. 

I find these lyrics fitting to where I am currently and the topic for today, "We were born to be the ones, To show the faithless what we've done

And there's a fire inside, It burns like the surface of the sun."

Today, at the beginning of my third year of this project, like they sun, in on fire to help others through their journey. 

Day 2: Heart ❤️ I hold both of my beautiful daughters in my heart.

Helen Keller said “The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen or even touched. They must be felt with the heart."

One of the best things to ever happen in my life was and is the birth of my first daughter, Avery Diane. And while we only had 6 short days with her, she will always be with me. She will always be part of me because she will forever be in my heart. I can no longer see her or touch her but every day I feel her with me, with each beat of my heart, she is here. 

Day 3: Before

Before Avery was born, it was just the two of us. Young, carefree, innocent, naive. Having fun, taking trips and experiencing the world. Neither of us had experienced true tragedy first hand. Neither of us knew just how much our world was going to be rocked. This photo was almost a year to the day the before Avery was born. It was our last summer getaway with friends before we would be forever changed, forever different. I look back at this couple and it feels like ages ago. We aren't these two naive kids anymore. 

Day 4: Now

This is what I and my family look like now. To the outsider, we look like a happy family of three but that teddy bear is more than a prop, it represents our 4th family member, Avery. On the outside, the us now and the us then look similar. 

But Avery's brief life has irrevocably changed the person I am. I am more sensitive, I love more deeply and I realize how short and unpredictable life can be. I am forever grateful for those who are currently in my life and accept the new me, and realize I will never be the old me again. I am content in my now, I have an amazing husband, my beautiful rainbow and a great support system. I continue finding healing daily. But it's not all sunshine and butterflies. 

At times I can be completely overcome by fear and anxiety. A fear so strong it can be paralyzingly. One words cannot even begin to describe. I just keep waiting for tragedy to strike again. I feel very jaded at times and find it hard to be optimistic in this very cruel world. 

I hate that life is broken down into a before and after but this is my life. And the 'now' me is driven to help others who are on similar paths. This isn't the way I dreamed my life going but I vow to use my experience to help others. 

Day 5: Journal

In the beginning I wrote, pen to paper, daily. I wrote to Avery and poured my heart out. Over time my paper journal turned to blogging. My blog is a way to not only express myself but to give others a glimpse into this crazy world. The good, the bad and the so often, very ugly. I found so many blogs helpful when I was starting on this journey. Even if my words touch just one person, it is worth sharing my heart and pain, open and honestly with the world. 

You can ready my blog entry for the day here:  http://missingavery.blogspot.com/?m=1

Day 6: Books

There have been many helpful books in my journey. I've posted then each year of this project. This year I wanted to share a book that I look forward to reading to our rainbow. This line page gets me every time. "You get to meet a lot of people in Heaven....and my big sister was so excited to see me that she wouldn't stop hugging me!"

Day 7: Sacred Place

Picking out Avery's headstone was surreal yet something we put a lot of thought into. It was the last and only tangible thing we were able to do for her. As odd as it was seem to many, I find peace visiting her place at the cemetery. It's a very beautiful space and her area and headstone are unlike any others there, unique and beautiful just like her. 

Growing up, I was always creeped out by cemeteries as I never went to them. It's crazy to think how different  Harper's life experience with cemeteries will be as they are part of her everyday, normal life. 

Day 8: Resources

There are many resources that have helped me along my journey in these shoes. These organizations have helped me learn to deal with these new shoes I'm forced to wear daily.  I am forever grateful that there are so many out there to help families like mine. 

A Pair of Ugly Shoes

Author Unknown

 

I am wearing a pair of shoes.  

They are ugly shoes. 

Uncomfortable Shoes.

I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.

Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.

They are looks of sympathy.

I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.

They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.

But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.

There are many pairs in the world.

Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.

Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by

before they think of how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Day 9: In Memory

Today was a hard day to decide what to post. I feel like daily I'm doing something in Avery's memory. Whether it's random acts of kindness, volunteering to help other baby loss families or just taking in the beauty of a sunset, I feel like everything I do is in memory of Avery. 

But one of the more tangible things that has been done in her memory is the building of Avery's Place. This playground was built solely based on funds raised at the 1st Annual Avery Diane Hanson Memorial Golf Tournament. The outpouring of love and support from our friends, family and strangers who took part in this tournament inspired us to hold a golf tournament in her memory annually. In addition to building Avery's Place, we've raised money for Molly Bears and SIDS research and are working to bring more support to families in our area. 

Day 10:  Support

Friends and family were a great source of support for us after losing Avery. We have great people in our life who will be there at any time for us. Whether we need to talk, cry or simply escape reality, there are so many who are there for us. But my biggest support, the one who truly knows what's going on in my head is my husband. 

He's the one who kept me going when I couldn't reach out to anyone else. He's the one who spent countless nights with me through the endless tears. He's the one who knew the answer to the question, "How are you doing?" He's my rock. He's my greatest support. 

Day 11: Alter

I don't really like the word alter. To me it implies worship. And while I love and miss Avery with all of my heart, I don't worship her. But I do have multiple spaces in our house where I've dedicated space to her. This space in our room is the only space dedicated solely to her. Everything here has special meaning to us. 

Flowers from her service, multiple pictures of her name taken all over the country, trinkets with her name we've picked up over time, the drum sticks I had made for my husband on his 1st Father's Day (which was the day after we buried her). 

This is one of the first things we see in the morning and the last we see when going to sleep at night. This is just another way that Avery is part of our everyday life. 

Day 12: Music - See Me Smiling by Yellowcard

There are so many songs I turn to on my journey. Lately, I've been spending lots of time in the car. My phone seems to shuffle to this song more frequently than the others and every time, my mind goes to Avery. 

She's always on my mind and in my heart. The pain is always there yet through it all, I hold her close and I am able to smile, I am able to live and I am able to love those in my life. 

Day 13: Season

Summer will always be Avery's season. Even though she was technically born before the official start of summer, summer had already started here in Florida. It seemed as if the day we were in the hospital to deliver her was the first day that the afternoon Florida summer storms started that summer.   It was hot, humid and the storms raged that afternoon and every afternoon she was here. The beginning of the summer storms and the summer heat will always remind me of her. 

Day 14: Light/Dark

Early on it seemed as if I would never be able to break out of the dark. And on many days, I didn't want to. But even on the darkest of days, there was always a small glimmer of light and hope. A hope and faith that this goodbye was just temporary and one day, Avery and I will be together again. 

If I were to say that my faith has remained strong through all of this I would be lying. I've questioned God a million times. I've begged for answers. I've pleaded for her back. And while none of this had happened, I do know that He still loves me and Avery. It will never make sense to me in this world, and I will probably spend the rest of my life asking why. But I do have light and hope in knowing that is is not the end. 

"So when the walls come falling down on me
And when I'm lost in the current of a raging sea.  I have this blessed assurance holding me. All I know is I'm not home yet.  This is not where I belong. Take this world and give me Jesus.  This is not where I belong." Building 429

Day 15: Community

Today is the wave of light and once again I am beyond touched at everyone who has lit a candle in memory of Avery and all babies gone too soon. Being part of the baby loss community is not a club I wanted to join but I am so thankful this community of strong families exists to support one another. Thank you to everyone remembering our babies today and every day. 

Day 16: Retreat

This week has been amazing but I have been very busy. I was able to tell Avery's story and share the TEARS Foundation at an infant mortality press conference, spent time remembering Avery and her friends by releasing sky lanterns into Heaven and today I get to facilitate my first Babyloss support group. 

Today my heart is full and heavy. I'm honored to be doing so much in Avery's memory but it can be a lot to take in. 

Today I will be retreating from doing too much but as always, our babies are in my heart.  

Day 17: Explore

The journey I am on is life changing and lifelong. Once you begin on this journey, there is no end. In the beginning, the path was rough, full of quick sand, sharp rocks and huge boulders. Every step was unpredictable. Some days, moving forward was impossible and others I was pushed further back. But as I've continued down my path, I've met others who have helped teach me how to scale the cliffs, escape the quicksand and mend my bleeding heels. 

Over time my path has leveled out. There are less jagged steep cliffs and sudden drops. The ground is more firm and the rocks are less sharp. There are still days the path surprises me with a twist, turn or sharp edge but most days I am navigating this journey fairly well and continue to explore where this journey leads. 

Day 18: Gratitude

There are so many people in my life that I am thankful for. So many friends and family who support us daily.  But today, I want to recognize those who we take for granted until we need them. The nurses, doctors, police officers, fire fighters and paramedics who daily keep up safe yet many times are not recognized. 

I will be forever grateful for all of those who were part of that awful day we lost Avery. I know they did everything they could. They showed us so much compassion and love during an awful time. Here is a blog post I wrote a while back about this: 

http://missingavery.blogspot.com/2013/12/gratitude-for-those-who-remain-faceless.html?m=1

Take time today to appreciate someone who does something you take for granted!

Day 19:  Give

For Avery's 1st birthday we asked friends and family to do random acts of kindness in her name. Since then our Avery's Light RAOK have grown. A friend had special coins made up to pass out when doing a RAOK and since having 1000 made last year, we had to have another set of 1000 made. Her RAOK coins have traveled all over the US and to other countries too. 

It's always a pick me up to perform a random act when I'm having a bad day or a day where I'm just really missing her. And the stories we hear back about how an act done in her name touched someone warms my heart. She may be gone but she lives on in love through us. 

Day 20: Breathe

Some days, all you can do is simply breathe. And that is enough. And when life is crazy, take time to enjoy the beauty around you.  You never know what you will see. This heart was in the clouds over my house yesterday. 

Day 21:  Relationships

Today my rainbow, Harper, turns 9 months. She's my second daughter but the world sees her as my first. Because of what happened with Avery, I'm not a cool and calm second time mom like those damn diaper commercials make you believe. I'm an anxiety filled, fearful, worrisome, paranoid, wish I could put her in a bubble and live there forever, second time grieving mom. I struggle watching Harper grow because I know the reality that if Avery were here, chances are, Harper wouldn't be. Wrapping your head around that is almost impossible. 

But because of losing Avery, I love watching her grow. While I can't believe it's going so fast, I don't find myself sad she's growing fast but rather joyful that she is in deed growing, something I don't get with Avery. Every milestone, round of shots, tooth and sleepless night is something I never got to experience before. 

Grief plays a role in all relationships. I struggle and worry about how it will affect Harper. How do I raise her to love her sister without her feeling like she's living in her shadow? Living with one in your heart and one in your arms is challenging in so many ways. 

Journal

As part of CarlyMarie's Capture Your Grief Project, I went back through my paper journal today (day 5 is journal). And it really brought me back to those very dark days following Avery's death. The pages are tear soaked and there is so little hope in my words. I had no hope, I could see no light, the world was simply a cruel place. 

In those early days I would have told you I would always be completely and utterly distraught. I would never find joy or happiness again. It's been 2 years and 4 months (tomorrow) since she was born and Sunday will make 2 years and 4 months since she left us. And in that time, I've evolved, I've changed. 

The babyloss journey is one where you are constantly changing and evolving as you continue on your journey. Sitting here, thinking about the changes I've gone through is crazy. And to be able to recognize that though this journey I will be forever changing in who I am and where I am on this journey and be content with that is well, big.  

Early on, I didn't want to hear that the good days would eventually outweigh the bad, but they do.

Early on, I didn't want to go a day without tears staining my pillow because somehow that would mean I missed her less, but that happened. 

Early on, I didn't want to hear that the world keeps turning, but it does. 

As time has passed, the gaping wound has scabbed. I've come to realize that it's ok that I have good days more often and that I don't cry myself to sleep every night. I needed that early on. But in time I also needed to realize those actions aren't my only connection or outward way I show that I love and miss Avery. This world is cruel but it doesn't stop for me. It keeps spinning. And I can either choose to let it spin without me or start spinning with it. 

Now, I've realized I can live here in the present with her in my heart. I can smile and laugh and still love her. I can have joy in my life without feeling guilty or that I am leaving her behind. 

I'm so thankful that as I travel down this path, I've found others to help me along my way. To help me continue to evolve in my grief and continue to keep Avery with me in my everyday life.