Wednesday, December 31, 2014

Returning to Work

November 5, 2014

Tomorrow I go back to work for the first time. I’m incredibly nervous to see all the people who know why I’ve been gone. How will we talk without me crying? What can I say if it’s not about you? Thanks to my understanding principal, I feel like I am able to set myself up for the best possible outcome. I am starting with a half day tomorrow. Jen will meet me in the parking lot to walk in with me. I feel like that might be the hardest part. Then I will teach one and a half blocks. And then I get to leave for the day. That will be enough! The students have been coached on what not to say and what is ok to say. I hope they can stick to it. I sort of wish I’d told them about you. Then they would understand better why I’ve been gone and why I’m still sad. They always say that our students are so compassionate when given the chance with our special needs students. I feel like this could be the same. But, alas, I was waiting to tell them until after the 16 week appointment and never got the chance.

Tuesday, December 30, 2014

One Month Angelversary

November 5, 2014

Dear Olivia,

Today is your one month angelversary. One month ago today I last held you inside of me. One month ago today I last held you in my arms. A lot has happened in a month. I am much stronger. I am still sad. I still miss you every day.

In the last month, I have written to you, admired pictures of you, purchased an urn and placed your ashes in their final resting place in my bedroom, bought you your first book, purchased a frame and put pictures of your hand and foot by my bedside, lit candles for you and the other babies we’ve lost, purchased a tree to plant in our front yard in your memory, and made mementos.

I love you, my sweet baby. I miss you, my precious daughter. I will carry you in my heart forever, Olivia.



Monday, December 29, 2014


November 5, 2014

We’ve embraced your symbol: the violet. I’m so glad we thought to choose a symbol right away. We went from no violets in our house to many. I am trying to turn my brown thumb into a green thumb with a violet plant. That will be quite a feat considering the finicky temperament of the plant. So far so good! I wear a violet charm with you near my heart. I cross stitched a bookmark with beautiful violets. I even had the perfect amount of space to add your name and birthday to it! The book I write in is covered in purple flowers! And your memory box from the hospital even has your violets. Daddy has added to our violet collection, too. He uses a violet mug now and he made the wallpaper on our giant tv a field of beautiful violets. Your sisters have their violet Olivia Collection charms as well. This flower that had no significance to us now means everything.

Sunday, December 28, 2014

Isn't It Ironic?

November 2, 2014

I. Hate. Needles. I've hated them since I was little. So it just figures that having babies for me means a whole lot more needles than for a normal woman. Due to previous losses, each new pregnancy begins with serial hcg and progesterone draws. Preeclampsia required many more blood draws than normal. The ectopic required multiple hcg draws as well as three IVs over 2 days. And if I'm being completely honest, the IV is the worst kind of needle. In fact, with the loss Olivia, the first panic attack I had was when I got the IV.

So isn't it ironic that I am desperate to be diagnosed with a blood clotting disorder so I will have some possible reason for all of our losses? This testing included drawing 20 vials blood, and I happily gave it for the hope of discovering the problem and having a treatment to try. I mean how can I possibly be pregnant again without feeling we are doing something different that time? How can I believe the outcome will be different if we just do the same things? So now I sit here desperately hoping one of these tests is positive so I can have the treatment of giving myself a daily blood thinner injection in my stomach. Now that's ironic!

Saturday, December 27, 2014


November 5, 2014

I feel like my emotions are fighting a paradox. On one hand, it feels like maybe this, you, are all just a dream. Did this really happen? Are we really the parents who lost our beloved daughter after surviving the first trimester? On the other hand, I have busily surrounded myself with reminders that you are REAL. You did happen! You were, are, and will always be my third baby girl.

Friday, December 26, 2014


November 2, 2014

So many things are tainted by negative associations now. The obvious: pregnancy, the doctor's office, the months of all our losses.

But there's much more. The people I know who are due right around when I was: Troy's coworker had the same due date as the ectopic pregnancy, two cousins (one with the exact due date again) with Olivia's pregnancy. So now I will forever more have visual reminders of what should have been at family gatherings. I'm going to see these kids grow up and know Olivia should have been right there with them.Then there are the many people on Facebook I have un-followed because they are pregnant and delivering babies.

Aside from people are the many places that remind me of Olivia: Red White and Boom, Florida, Moe’s, Auntie Ann’s, Sea World. I doubt I will ever visit these places again without thinking of Olivia.

And there are foods: I craved sour--limeade, pickles

And time of year: pregnant all summer, lost in the fall, due in spring.

Shows that I used to watch are off limits due to their pregnant characters: Jill Duggar (due right around when I was) and Parenthood.  I think the only other show I watch is Modern Family.  

Tuesday, December 23, 2014


October 31, 2014

50% of recurrent loss no reason found
50% of late miscarriage no reason found
25 to 33% of recognized pregnancies end in miscarriage
2% of recognized pregnancies are ectopic
1.5% chance of miscarriage at 16 weeks gestation

I should probably play the lottery.

Monday, December 22, 2014

It Happened

October 30, 2014

Tonight the thing I’d been dreading and basically hiding from happened. While out trick or treating with Lily and Ella, a neighbor we haven’t seen for about 6 weeks greeted me with an enthusiastic “Hello” and “How are you feeling? Do you need some candy?” I teared up and managed to whisper, “We lost the baby.” It hurt. It was awkward. It immediately made me feel vulnerable and exposed. She asked if she could do anything and we hurried away, me on the brink of full-out waterworks. Next we were headed for the bus-stop crew. I’ve avoided them for the last four weeks but at least I didn’t have to worry about it coming up since they already knew.

Sunday, December 21, 2014

Busy Hands, Busy Mind

October 30, 2014

I’ve tried to stay very busy with projects in these weeks since Olivia's been gone.  Some were intended to occupy my mind with something else so I could get some reprieve from constantly thinking about Olivia. The Lego sets I built (Falling Water and Trevi Fountain from the Architecture series) did a good job for this.

Others were intended to just occupy my hands. The various art projects filled this role. They didn’t take my mind off Olivia, but instead allowed me to express my feelings about her in an active way.

One project was a great combination of busy hands and mind.  I cross-stitched a bookmark covered with violets.  Counted cross-stitch certainly demanded my brain’s attention, and at the same time, my hands were busy making something to honor my daughter.

Last night I finished the bookmark I made in Olivia’s memory. It’s beautiful. It has her name and birthday too. I just can’t get enough of seeing those: her beautiful name and her birthday.

Olivia Claire
October 5, 2014

Saturday, December 20, 2014

The Last Test Result

October 30, 2014

Yesterday we got the results from your chromosome study. As far as I know, this is the last test we were awaiting. It confirmed what we already knew in our hearts. You were perfect.

Friday, December 19, 2014

What Should Have Been

October 30, 2014

Tonight would have been the 20 week appointment. We would have rushed from school to see Dr. L and hear your heartbeat. Then we would have rushed back home to trick or treat with your sisters. How I wish that were still our plan and that at this moment I could be anticipating that appointment. Instead, today marks four weeks of desperately missing you.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

Marking a Lost Milestone

October 30, 2014

This week was difficult. We passed the point that would have been halfway through pregnancy. Daddy and I hung a wind chime given to us by Mommy's coworker. We also put you in your final resting place that day. We originally thought about spreading your ashes somewhere beautiful. I thought maybe I’d find a public garden with violets. But once we had you home with us, we both agreed we could not imagine parting from you ever again. Instead we chose a tiny urn that sits in a heart-shaped box that is engraved with your name and birthday. Next to you is the book I read to you that night in the hospital. The title, Sleep Baby Safe and Snug, was not intended for this situation, but it is perfect.

Wednesday, December 17, 2014

A Double Edged Sword

October 28, 2014

Olivia was our fifth loss. And that makes it harder.  We thought we had passed all the risky times of the pregnancy. We blew the old loss milestones out of the water!  We thought she was our rainbow.  

Olivia was our fifth loss. And does that make it easier?  We know this pain. We’ve traveled this path before. We know that we can overcome the intense grief of losing our babies before we ever get a chance to meet them.

Tuesday, December 16, 2014

20 Weeks

October 28, 2014

Today I would have been 20 weeks pregnant. I would have been halfway to meeting my beautiful daughter in March. Instead I am empty. I am grieving. I am a week from returning to work and scared to death about how I will function. I am worried that I will never again have the opportunity to conceive, carry, and deliver a healthy baby. Today I would have been halfway to meeting my beautiful daughter and instead I’m three weeks past delivering her lifeless body.

Monday, December 15, 2014


October 27, 2014

I don’t want something else to control when we stop having kids or how many kids we have. If we want to have a baby then damn it we should be able to!  Why do some people get pregnant by accident and get to keep their baby? Why do some people do all the wrong things during pregnancy and get to keep their baby? Why do some people get pregnant in the worse circumstances and get to keep their baby? Why do we carefully plan, intricately follow guidelines, and truly desire a baby and keep being painfully denied?  

Sunday, December 14, 2014


October 27, 2014

I feel guilty. Why am I not satisfied with the two healthy children we DO have? Why can’t I just walk away and say that two is enough. Two is great!  There are many people who can’t even have one child. So what is wrong with me that I am not satisfied? We could spare ourselves so much emotionally. We could spare ourselves the cost of testing to try to find a cause. We could spare ourselves the uncertainty of will it ever end up happily again?

Saturday, December 13, 2014


October 27, 2014

We’ve had due dates in February, March (2), April, June, July, and August.  Of all those due dates, we actually had a baby in May (due June 15th but born 5 weeks early due to severe preeclampsia) and August.  We’ve had losses in June (2013), July (2009), August (2006), October (2014) and December (2011). I feel like certain times of year are just cursed and now it leaves me wanting avoid those months.  When you combine all the due dates and loss dates, there just doesn’t seem to be much left.

Perhaps a September-December baby would be just the ticket.  At least we haven’t had any due dates during that time of year. January is too close to the terrible string of February-April due date losses (4!) so it has to be omitted.  Let’s see, that means I would need to get pregnant in December-March.  It is pretty unlikely we will even begin to try until at least January due to recurrent loss testing.  Even January might be a bit of a stretch.  So then you have to remember that I only have one tube left and the likelihood of this specific timing seems pretty, well, unlikely.  

It’s silly to think that time of year matters, but at the same time it’s hard to ignore the reality.  Due dates in February-April equal losses in June-August (and Olivia in October).

Months that are completely “clear” of loss associations: May, September, November, and maybe January.

Friday, December 12, 2014

A History of Loss

October 27, 2014

I have been really struggling with this a lot.  Why is it our reality to suffer so. much. loss?  How is this our life? When we met as 18 year-olds on our first day of college, we certainly never would have guessed we’d have seven pregnancies over the course of eight years. And that only two of them would end happily.

The first pregnancy resulted in a very early loss and its effect was far-reaching. Never again would we be able to see two lines on a test and assume that we would walk away with a living baby in nine months.  Pregnancy would never be a blissful, carefree time of nothing but joy and excitement. But at least the loss was very early. We would be able to quickly pass that milestone with future pregnancies.

But the losses keep happening later and later.  The second one was at 7 weeks. The third not detected until the 8 week appointment that I had somehow patiently waited for. That loss stole another piece of my sanity.  Now I couldn’t assume that no bleeding equaled a healthy baby. That was the first missed miscarriage. My body took five weeks to finally realize the baby was not living and begin to miscarry.   

Loss four was a whole new kind of terrible.  I found out I was unexpectedly expecting.  I thought that was great. I didn’t have to stress about trying to get pregnant. Or about making the decision to risk another loss. The decision was made for us. Certainly this pregnancy was meant to be.  Or not.  Just a week (or was it less) after seeing the positive test, I started spotting.  HCG levels were not increasing as desired and it was assumed I was having another miscarriage.  But it was far worse than that!  Our family left on a long-planned vacation in Florida while I was just about six weeks pregnant. I was pretty much expecting to miscarry on this trip but also a tiny bit hopeful that all would turn out. After just a few days away, though, I was in terrible pain.  The first hospital ran tests and performed an ultrasound.  The HCG was still climbing, although slowly. And they coudn’t find the baby in my uterus, or anywhere for that matter. They sent me away and told me to schedule a follow-up appointment with the on-call doctor for two days later. Well, by the time of that appointment, I was awaiting surgery in a second hospital. They had confirmed my worst fear: I had an ectopic pregnancy and by this time my tube had ruptured.  I had my right tube removed at a hospital while on vacation.

So that left me with a whole new set of worries.  Now, I would have to wonder if I would GET pregnant with just one tube.  And if I did get pregnant, I would have to worry WHERE the baby implanted.  And if the baby implanted in the right spot, I would have to worry about whether I would STAY pregnant.

With Olivia, I once again had thoughts of “this is meant to be.” We had easily conceived her.  An early ultrasound showed she was in the right place, and we had made it past the first trimester.  Then the shit hit the fan--again.  This time was far worse emotionally than ever before. This wasn’t just a baby we were losing, she was our daughter.  Now, I’m left with a feeling that I will never feel “safe” at any point during a future pregnancy.  I feel like we’ve been robbed of almost all hope.

Why do these losses keep happening? Why do they happen later and later? Why has my body stopped recognizing the loss right away? Why us???? Why are we the couple who loses our babies far more than we don’t?

Thursday, December 11, 2014

My Favorite Time Of Year

Fall is probably my favorite time of year.  Our family has so many traditions. We pick apples. We go to Leed’s Farm for hay barn, corn, slides, rides, and bouncy blobs. We choose and carve pumpkins. We trick or treat all over: Spooktacular, Boo at the Zoo, North Market, and of course in our neighborhood.  And it doesn’t hurt that fall is also the time of my birthday.

As the season began, you were with us in my belly. You went apple picking with us. You were there for my birthday. But then the unthinkable happened and you were not with us anymore.  I am not sure what will happen to my favorite time of year now.  October will never again be the same carefree and fun time. We will still do our family traditions for your sisters but I won’t look forward to this time of year or be able to enjoy it the same as I did before.  

Wednesday, December 10, 2014

Your Time of Year

October 27, 2014

Your due date was March 16, 2015. You were to be our light at the end of winter’s tunnel. You were due the Monday of Spring Break. You were a baby with “perfect teacher timing”. You would be born and I would stay home with you until Summer break started. We would have five whole months together before you would see a babysitter.  

So when I began to think of a tree to plant in your memory, I immediately wanted a tree that would have beautiful spring blossoms. Spring, after all, is your time of year. I found delicate trees with spring blossoms and began to think about the beauty they would add to our yard in your time of year. But Daddy had other ideas. He pointed out that spring was your time of year but not anymore. Now you are our fall baby.  

I thought about that idea. Maybe I would need to reevaluate my plans for your tree. I began to research hearty trees that would show beautiful leaves in the fall. I remembered how I have stood outside in our front yard and longed for some shade. It was then that I decided to plant a tree that would grow big and tall over the years when you couldn’t. It would spread its limbs up and out and its leaves would provide the shade that I had hoped for. I found the Crimson King Maple that would have dark purple leaves during the summer months and then turn golden in the fall. Yes, Olivia, you are our fall baby and we will plant a tree to honor you and your time of year.

I hope that looking at your tree as I pull up to the house or glance out the window will bring me a sense of peace. I plan to hold your memorial ceremony around the tree once it is newly planted. I imagine taking family pictures by your tree for big events over the years. And then you will be in them in a way. I even dare to imagine that one day I will sit on a blanket under your tree and your little brother or sister will be there with me.

Tuesday, December 9, 2014


10/25/14 12:56 am

The day of the 16 week appointment, I was almost there alone. As I left school to drive to the doctor’s office in Hilliard, I tried to call Troy to make sure he remembered. Several times the phone went to voice mail. Once I arrived at the office, there were eight minutes until the appointment and I tried one more time to contact Troy. It turned out he had forgotten and was still at school in Dublin. He asked if I needed him to come and I said, “Yes. Leave right now.” I could tell he was hoping I would let him off the hook though. So I immediately called back to say that he didn’t have to come after all. I told him, “You don’t have time to get here.”

I went on in to the office, signed in, waited in the waiting room, and went back to a room by myself. I also got a flu shot while I waited to see the doctor. I was sitting in the room alone and all of a sudden, Troy was there at the door. He had misunderstood my second phone call to say, “You have time,” and had not-so-happily rushed over.  

Thank goodness for our terrible communication that afternoon. I can’t imagine receiving the news that day by myself. I can’t imagine having to tell Troy the news over the phone from the doctor’s. That would have taken the unimaginable and made it worse.

Monday, December 8, 2014

Olivia Was There

4th of July
Movie theater
North Carolina
Sea World
Ella’s Swim lessons
Irish Festival
Ella’s birthday
Lily’s Summer Showcase dance
Labor Day
Apple picking
OSU vs. Virginia Tech (although we would all have rather not been at that game)
Pinney Palooza
Mommy’s birthday

Sunday, December 7, 2014


October 24, 2014

The loss of Olivia is just different from the other losses. For one, we knew about her for more than twice as long. We knew she was a girl. Our daughters knew about Olivia and were anticipating her arrival with us.  My body had already grown to accommodate her.

It was different also because she is the only baby we lost after seeing a heartbeat.  And we saw or heard it four times from seven to 12 weeks. She’s the only baby we lost after we were “in the clear” of the second trimester.  

But what really makes this different is we knew her as our daughter.  And the girls knew her as their sister.  We had chosen her name. We had talked about her. We had looked ahead and imagined our life with her.  Of course we’d imagined our life with each of our other losses but this time our imaginations had more detail, more reality to pull from.

And perhaps the most bittersweet: we had more time to fall in love with her.


October 24, 2014  11 am

It’s crazy how time works. Every day is the same number of hours, every week the same number of days. Why, then, does time seem to move differently now than it did when I was pregnant?

It has been three weeks since we learned of Olivia’s death. The time has just happened, seemingly in a blink of the eye. Yet, the first three weeks of knowing I was pregnant were the longest, slowest days and weeks. I was waiting until I could see her on the ultrasound with her heart beating and it seemed to take forever to get to that point. The three weeks between appointments at 9 and 12 weeks were agonizingly long too. So how did these three weeks come and go so quickly?  

We knew about Olivia for almost 13 weeks before she died. At this point, then, we have known she died for about one fourth of the time that we were anticipating her arrival. And by the end of next week, it will become that we were happily expecting her for three months and we’ve been sorrowfully missing her for one month. That swings the ratio to one third. We will already be without her for one third of the time that we were with her. How did that happen?

It’s crazy how time works.  

Saturday, December 6, 2014

Excuse Me?

On October 15th, just 10 days after giving birth to Olivia, my doctor’s nurse called.
“How are you doing?” she asked in a too-chipper voice.  I was annoyed right away. How could she speak so normally to me after what I’d just been through?
“Uh, ok,” I managed in a voice that definitely didn’t match my answer. The nurse seemed a bit taken aback by my less-than-peppy response.
“Well, I was just calling to check on you. How is the bleeding? How is breastfeeding?” Hold up, WHAT!?! Now her sense of surprise became clear.  She thought she was calling a blissful mother of a newborn.  I was anything but that.
“My baby died,” I snarled through the phone.  Immediately, her tone changed and she became very somber.
“How are you doing?” she asked again in her new pittying voice reserved for mothers like me.
“I can’t talk to you right now!” I responded right before chucking my phone to the floor.

This phone call came while I was still hiding from everyone I knew.  I had stopped going to the bus stop (I still don’t go there). I hadn’t been to Lily and Ella’s dance.  I had been nowhere I thought I might see someone I knew because I was avoiding the terrible moment when someone would ask about my baby without knowing that she was dead.  Of all places, the office of the doctor who delivered Olivia should have been safe from that!

I still remember this conversation word for word nearly two months later.

Not Hidden

Your ashes are on Daddy’s dresser
The book we read to you is propped beside you
Your birth announcement with your footprints hangs next to Lily’s bed

If we keep all these things out in the open, can we keep your memory alive forever?  Someday will we look at these things without sadness?

Friday, December 5, 2014


October 23, 2014 11:50 pm

The Snoogle is shoved under my bed
My maternity clothes are thrown to the top shelf of my closet
A box of baby samples is in a corner of the nursery toy room closet

If I hide all these things can I forget about them?  Someday will we get to bring them out and use them?


October 23, 2014

There are so many should have beens:  
-I should have been 19 weeks pregnant today.
-October should have been a great month of reassurance. I looked forward to this month because I should have had three appointments to show me you were alive and well. Instead, the first one shot that all to hell.
-I should have had the Big Ultrasound last week.  
-I should be almost half way done with your pregnancy.
-I should have an ever growing belly instead of an empty one.
-I should feel you kicking me.
-I should be uncomfortable: heartburn, hot, ever-expanding belly.
-I should be wearing maternity clothes.
-I should be buying more cute things for you to wear.
-Ella should be still hugging my belly and dreaming about the day she can see and hold you.
-We should be planning your nursery.
           -We should be happy and excited.


October 21, 2014

Someone commented that they were sure I was enjoying my time with my girls while I was home from work for the month of October. And with that I knew they had no idea.

For the first two weeks I was in a daze.  Time just passed without me knowing it.  I could hardly take care of my basic needs let alone take care of my kids. Barely sleeping, bathing once a week when I could no longer avoid it, eating maybe once a day. I remember trying to feed Ella one meal about a week into this experience. It felt like so much work. It took so much energy and my presence.  How could I go through these motions when my mind and heart were with someone else? Without Nana and Grandma, the girls wouldn’t have been bathed, fed, put to bed, or done homework.

So, no, I haven’t enjoyed my time with my girls while not at work. I haven’t enjoyed my time period while I’ve been off work. MY BABY DIED!!! That is not enjoyable no matter how you spin it.

My Birthday

October 21, 2014

Five days separate my birthday from the day we learned your heart had stopped. On that day, much of my celebrating revolved around you. My present was a Snoogle pregnancy pillow to support my growing belly. When Daddy and I went out to dinner, we spent the first part of our date shopping for clothes for you. We picked out adorable baby girl fashions for spring and summer. Giraffes, stripes, flamingos.  Dinner was at The Melting Pot. I carefully timed how long I cooked each piece of meat to avoid any sort of bacteria that could harm you. This was a night of great happiness for us. We imagined our family complete in just a few month's time.

Five days is all that separates the happy time of my birthday and the awful day of my 16 week appointment.  Now we wonder if you were even alive on my birthday as we happily incorporated you into our celebration. It's very possible you weren't. You had measured several days ahead on your last few ultrasounds. So if you were measuring 16 weeks after death, it is likely that you died right around my birthday.

It's sad to think about us happily going about our business and not knowing. But maybe it doesn't matter. We celebrated with you. You were part of the day and that made it better.

I love you Olivia.

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Quotes from Dr. L

“You're not having a miscarriage.You're not having an ectopic.You're having a baby.”  9/4/14 12.5 weeks

“Don't do this to your momma.” 10/2/14 16.5 weeks

“If you still want to have a biological child you may want to consider a surrogate.” 10/5/14


October 21, 2014 (10 am)

July 5th positive pregnancy test
October 5th Olivia's birthday
5 days between my birthday and learning you were gone


October 21, 2014 (1:30 am)

I waited with anticipation to get the pictures the hospital took of you.  This would give me a glimpse of you that I hadn’t seen yet. I already cherished the pictures we took but I had looked at them many times over and I was excited to see more.

When Daddy walked into the house after exchanging the other family’s photos for ours, he told me right off the bat that he thought I would be disappointed.  I took the envelope ready to look and judge for myself.  Right away I could tell the envelope was much lighter than the old one. There were far fewer pictures than the other envelope held.  

I leafed through the images. They did show that you had touched the bear and blanket, which I was hoping was true.  But the images didn’t match how I remembered you. They didn’t match the pictures we took of you.  I could tell time had not been kind to your body.  One or two of the pictures were ok.  Several more were downright disturbing.  I carefully placed the best few on top and the most upsetting photos on bottom.  

I don’t know what to do with these images that I anticipated so much.  Should I just keep the few that most resemble you? But how can I possibly choose to not keep ALL the pictures when these are all we’ll ever have?  I’m torn. 

Ways You’ll Be Remembered

tree in our front yard
memorial ceremony
necklace for Mommy
pictures of your hand and foot in frame
violet charms for Lily and Ella
violet mug for Daddy
memory box from hospital: hand and foot castings, footprints, bunting
violet cross stitch bookmark Mommy made
urn engraved with your name and birthday

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Light and Dark

October 20, 2014


On the way
Excited and nervous
Strong baby
Complete our family
Safe and Sound
Heartbeat pumping away!
Right where you needed to be
Tears of joy
Our family’s little secret
How much you were wanted
Feeling good
Upcoming arrival
A healthy baby girl
Over the moon
A baby sister
Flutters and nudges
A wonderful feeling
An exciting time for our family!
Our strong girl
Nothing to worry about
Your staying power
Olivia Claire
The symbol of a violet
Close to my heart
Carrying you
Your birthday, October 5th
Sweet baby
Our baby, beautiful and precious
Held your hand and foot on our fingertips
So tiny and so perfect
Our third baby girl
Forever our daughter
Carry you in our hearts


Hearts not complete
Heart-wrenching silence
Long and uncomfortable
No heartbeat
Steal memories
Short time together
Disbelief, Anger
Deep, Intense
Incredible sorrow
Your birthday, October 5th
We cried and we cried
Hardest day of our lives
Fragile little body
Lost opportunity to raise you
Sadder than we’ve ever been
Taken a lifetime too soon
Miss you
Long for you
Our third baby girl
Time is slipping
Days continue without me
Will I ever be the same without you?
A bad dream
A wave of despair
Stumbled out crying
A broken mommy
Miss you
Tears, frustration, agony
No answers
Please forgive me