journey

This blog, and my life, is not just about a journey through grief.  It is about the journey of a mother and a daughter.

It started Tuesday, February 19th 2013 at about 10:20 in the morning, when I took the first positive pregnancy test I have ever taken.

I fell in love.

In the following weeks I was convinced I was having a boy, I just knew it.  Around the end of May we found out I was wrong, it was our beautiful daughter in there.

She grew.  She moved.  There were things I could tell she loved and things she hated.  She hated being hot, and things being too tight.  She loved jazz music.

I did all I could to help her grow.  Read all the books.  Ate the good things.  Avoided the bad.  Carried her, read to her, sang to her, played with her.

Thirty-nine weeks and four days was as long as her journey on Earth could be.  And my journey on Earth since her death has been well, a nightmare.  I was devastated, I was destroyed by her death.

But no matter what, she is--on Earth, beyond it, no matter where that little soul went to when she left us in that hospital room--she is still my daughter.  And our journey as mother and daughter continues.  Death cannot take that from us.

I watched a video the other day that said "You were made from love, to be loved, to spread love."  And that she was.  She spreads love everyday.  She teaches me things everyday.  I write to her, talk to her, sing to her, blow her a thousand kisses e.v.e.r.y.d.a.y.

This is not the journey I planned for us, it's certainly not the one I wanted.  But it is where we are.  And if God came down from the heavens today and said, "I'll give you a living baby right now, one her age, one you can have on Earth, but it won't be her and she won't be your daughter anymore" I would tell him immediately to leave.  I wouldn't choose any child but her.  And if her life was meant to be short and my life was meant to be missing her, so be it.  I'll be on this journey, as long as it is with her.



"You were chosen to be their mother.  Yes--chosen.  And no one could parent them better in life or death than you do."

from this, by Angela Miller