I'm pretty sure the crazy has been kicking in extra strong these days. It's hard to tell since crazy has turned into the new normal. Maybe it's the hormones. Maybe I'm pregnant (nope).. maybe my period is coming that I feel especially discouraged and down. Maybe its because I share a birthday month with my angel and I wish it didn't have to be this way. Whatever it is, and for all that it is...I never thought my 26th year would look like this. I never thought that at 26, I would have to fight to be happy.
Theres not a single day that doesn't go by that I don't do these two very important things. Remember my son, and pray for and over my rainbow. Although it hurts, I have chosen to look to God through my terrible grief, He has lifted me up and given me strength to dream and hope for a tomorrow that comprises of a living child.
First of all I kind of hate you. Let me explain, I don't mean it in the actual "hate" hate way, but kind of in the way you hate the girl across the room with the kick ass shoes you know you can't afford. I know it doesn't make any sense... am I seriously comparing a baby to shoes?! I'm not even that big on shoes. The point is, when I see a pregnant woman, there is a small percentage of me that is, well, a little jealous.
When this Sunday comes along, I will remember how amazing it was to be a mother. I will remember the amazing gift God gave me but then took away. I will remember my naps with him, my talks to him, the prayers I used to say and the songs I used to sing. His nursery is still set up in my home, the dreams I had of his life are still set up in my heart.
I always knew it was only a matter of time before getting a tattoo that symbolized the love I have for my son. I have always seen tattoo's as beautiful body art, especially if they are tasteful and meaningful. I spent months deciding how I could capture his memory in a timeless and elegant way. I thought of wings, his little feet, his birth date, flowers, etc. After hours, no, weeks of Pinteresting, all I kept going back to was his beautiful name. How I picked it so tenderly for my perfect angel. I chose it with such love and it was perfect for my sweet boy.
Im so thankful for online resources and the community I found in PAL. It has been so healing being able to share my journey with other TTC Loss moms and exchange questions and concerns about this crazy journey. It also brings me so much hope every week to see the mothers holding their rainbow babies... knowing one day that is going to be me!!
When I fell pregnant, I was completely drawn to the idea of having a natural birth experience. I was in love with the concept of a mindful pregnancy, completely trusting and allowing my body to grow my child the best way it already knew how. I was even more fascinated and excited when I chose to have a midwife accompany my pregnancy and perform a beautiful home birth where I would get the pleasure of birthing naturally and in the comfort of my own home. The midwife I chose came highly recommended to me by someone I trusted. Everything was perfect. I was a new mom and I completely enamored with the fairy tail of it all.
The surgeon who performed my cesarean made a statement that it would take me about 6 months to "move on" after the loss of my Solomon. Still in shock from it all, I had no room for anger. My heart was already so wounded. I accepted anything and everything the Doctor told me and suggested. He was a professional after all, someone I could trust.
A couple of weeks ago I went on a small rant of my noticeably increasing Hair loss. I was so frustrated that all my thick healthy hair I acquired while pregnant was falling out. Especially in the hairline region, not cute! After posting on Facebook, I was relieved to discover through the comments that many other mommies also experienced Postpartum Alopecia and that it is actually totally normal! Look at me, learning new things everyday.
I officially nominate myself for the #MotherhoodChallenge.
It may be something silly going around Facebook right now, but I do identify myself as a mother. Bereaved, yes. Although my son was Stillborn and I am Still his mother.
These six pictures may bring me woven emotions, but all those feelings are stemmed from a place of extreme and unconditional love.