Please forgive me...

I know I'm not the same person I was before May 3.  If we're being honest, I know I'm not the same person I was before December 29.  Before December 29, I was the happiest I have ever been in my entire life.  I was a mother to an almost 4 month old beautiful, funny, snuggly little girl with the bluest, most perfect eyes and widest, happiest smile.

Everyone always told me that our lives were going to be forever changed with a child and that we would feel a kind of love we've never felt before.  Every bit of that was spot on.  

We lost our girl, as we knew her, on December 29.  The amount of love that you have for this tiny human means the equivalent amount of pain and hurt that you feel when they are suffering.  The love is indescribable...The pain is indescribable.  Half of my baby's life was spent suffering.  That changes you, as a parent... As a person.  I am at a place in this journey right now that I can't even look at pictures or think about the things that she endured from December 29-May 3. It hurts so bad.  I hurt for her.  I hurt because there was nothing that I could do to take away her pain.  Literally all we could do was make the best decisions for her and love her.  And oh how we loved her.  It wasn't until Avery that I truly felt like I had a purpose.  She gave my life purpose.

She gave me so much.  She gave me strength that I never knew I had, she taught me a totally new kind of love, she showed us all what is truly important.  I know that Jesus was working through her.  I would choose my Avery Marie a million times over, if I had that chance.  You see, when someone comes into your life and makes such an impact, you become a different person, for the better.  When that same person leaves this life, you also become a different person.  It's inevitable.  Please forgive me for not being the same person I used to be...

I'm stronger, yet most of the time I feel weaker.  I'm more patient, yet at times I feel I have no patience.  I'm more giving, but find I don't have time for negativity.  I have a new focus on what's important and honestly get annoyed and offended by some people's issues.  I know, it's probably not right, but when you've had to watch your child fight for her life, someone complaining about silly, mundane things easily annoys you.  So please forgive me if I don't have the capacity to listen to these problems.  It's not you, I literally just don't have it in me.

Please forgive me for not being the same friend that was always laughing.  Yes, I am trying my absolute hardest to be happy, trust me.  I want to be happy.  Please forgive me for not reaching out to you the way I used to, the way I know I should be.  I am still here for you.  Please forgive me for not wanting to stay busy with (what should be) fun activities when the weekends come, I am mentally and physically exhausted.  All the time.  As much as I would love to change things, if I did then it would mean I also wouldn't have known all of the amazing blessings that came from Avery.  And please forgive me, but I wouldn't have traded her for the world.  

      

"Tune my heart to sing thy Grace..."

Our counselor told us that this first year would be hard...all of the 'firsts' that we will have to encounter... First birthday, first Thanksgiving, first Christmas, first Easter....without you. But who are we kidding, no holiday is ever going to be easy.  Ever.  From here on out.  I'm sorry, family and friends.  I know you may also have a moment of sadness yourselves (and/or for us) but please don't ever underestimate the feeling of loneliness we will feel, even surrounded by so many that we love.  We are getting closer and closer to your first birthday.  I struggle every single month on the 2nd and the 3rd.  On the 2nds, you would be another month older.  In a few weeks, you would be 1 year old.  I still sit hear in disbelief that I would have a 1 year old.  On the 3rds, it is another month that you've been gone.  Sundays are hard too.  That's the day you took your last breath and went home.  It's bittersweet having all of these daily reminders and dates that mark another 'should've been' or 'would've been'.  I never want you far from my mind but I also hate the reminders that you aren't here, where you should be.  Avery lived to be 8 months and 1 day old.  She fought until the end.  She went until her little body knew it couldn't be healed on this side of Heaven. I rejoice every single day that she has won and she is whole and well and PERFECT but oh how I hurt.  I don't tell you all of this for pity or sadness, I tell you to 1) keep Avery as alive as I possibly can, 2) try to cope with an unfathomable loss, 3) help others understand, we all have a story to tell, and 4) continue rejoicing in the love that can only come from a Father who is holding my precious baby.  As Avery's mom, I prayed for her before she was born, I prayed for her every day she was with us, and I pray for her now.  As a mom, you are given this amazing strength to do things you never thought you could do and an even more amazing power to love so deeply that you know it comes straight from above.  We hurt so bad because we love so good.  We miss you, our Avery girl.

I want to remember. I need to remember...

Your little fingers..your little toes..your perfect lips and nose. I want to remember it all. I need to remember it all.  I look at pictures because they are all I have.  

It is amazing (and by amazing I mean frustrating) how the things that I want to NEVER forgot somehow find a way to start looking foggy in my mind and the terrible things that I would love to never think about again won't leave my mind. When I close my eyes, I can feel your little body curled up in my arms, the way you nestled right in so comfortably that just melted this momma's heart.  When I look at your pictures of that beaming wide-mouthed smile, I can hear you cooing and laughing, remembering how it just made our whole day to have our baby look up at us with such love.  When I walk into your nursery, I can still smell diapers, blankets and clothes washed in baby detergent (yes, it has a different smell than Tide), and I pray these smells never go away.  It's funny how smells have a way of bringing memories rushing back.  I've had one friend come into my house and simply say, "It smells like Avery in here..." I know what ya mean...I am beginning to realize that all of the beautiful pictures that I have are all the pictures that I'll ever have of you, making them more and more precious every single day.  I look at these pictures so often, trying to burn into my memory (if that's possible) every detail of your sweet face, the unique little ways you held your hands, the curves of your feet.  I don't want to forget any of it.  I can't forget any of it.  It seems like a lifetime ago that life was so simple.  We had our routine (and oh it was glorious). Morning nursing around the time daddy was going to work, then snuggles in momma's bed (you always seemed to get your best sleep during that early morning 'nap'), then a good 'ol diaper change.  Insert many smiles and wiggles.  You loved when we would pass by a mirror and I'd sing "Who's that girl? Oh that girl...."  It was no nursery rhyme but it got you smiling.  The days went on as simple as this and I soaked in every minute.  I still think about what the pastor said at your service, that you were loved every minute of your life.  What a blessing.  How can we want anything more for our child?  Thank you for loving us.  You are my greatest accomplishment and deepest love.  And now you're being held by our Lord and Savior until momma can hold you again.  What a perfect life.    

Summertime and the livin's (not) easy.

This summer was going to be oh so much fun.  You were going to learn to walk, we would celebrate your first birthday, we would go to the beach and play in the sand, we would play outside, go on walks....

You were robbed of so much.  I'm so sorry baby girl.  There is nothing more that I wish for every single day than to have you back and for you to experience these things.  Your daddy and I try to stay busy with day to day tasks but at some point, the grief has to come out.  For me, usually it's in the mornings...For several hours... I have to let it just take over.  Some days, it's later in the evenings.  When it comes, it comes with no holding back.  So I look at your pictures that are everywhere...on the walls, on nightstands, on tables, on counters...everywhere. Your sweet smiles (still) light up every single room.  As it should be.  You're here with us, I just know it.

We miss you more and more every day...Love you my sweet angel girl.  

Too many firsts all at once..

So exactly one week after we said goodbye to our sweet girl, it was Mother's Day. This past weekend, we had to 'celebrate' Father's Day. Deep breathe... That's a lot. Avery made us mommy and daddy. For Mother's Day, I felt many things.. Shock- did my baby REALLY just die a week ago?? Is this really my life??  I never could've imagined Brad and I losing our baby... Sadness- This was going to be the first year that I'd get a little card signed 'Avery' (I'd thank Brad). My sweet girl was just robbed of so much. I'm sad at Mother's Day but she won't ever get a 1st birthday...Numbness- I was truly just going through the motions because I don't think I could recall what we even did that day. So when I say shock, sadness, and numbness, amplify it to a level unimaginable. And through that, we smile, we have breakdowns, we laugh, we remember... This past weekend we suffered through Father's Day. As Brads wife, I hurt so bad for him. There's something about a hurting father than nothing can make better. His little girl should've been there, sitting with him at church, being bounced up and down. But instead, we visited Avery at her resting place. And here comes the shock again... What?! Are we really parents yet our baby isn't with us?! Is this real life?!

I don't look forward to more 'first holidays without Avery' because it simply shouldn't be this way. I am so so thankful for all of the amazing people that acknowledged both Brad and I on those two recent holidays because there truly is no greater compliment than hearing someone say 'You are such a good mom.'

Allow me to introduce you to this sweet girl.. This is Avery Marie.  She would be 10 months old in a couple of weeks.  Her life was cut far too short but in her 8 months here on Earth, she was a difference maker.  She forever made me 'mommy' and my amazing husband 'daddy'.  I have always found great peace in journaling and my hope is to help others understand grief and the many (ugly) sides to it while remembering our sweet angel, Avery.