Gift Number Three

"Hey [Peach] I hope the holidays are treatking you ok this year. I wanted to let you know he did Olivias wish. I dont have any pictures but ill tell you the story... I have a friend who is going through a really bad divorce. She is supporting her kids on a very low income ther werent getting much for Christmas so L**** and I decided to do sub for santa for them. So they could get what they really needed we just gave my friend the money and watched the kids while she shopped. The little girl is 3 and so the money we gave to her I did in honor of Olivias wish. I hope her Christmas is just a little bit brigther this year. Much love [Peach]!!"

What a blessing to this family! How generous of you. This is what Christmas is all about. Thank you so much.

Gift Number Two

"Hi [Peach], T**** and I did donate to Toys for Tots in honor of Olivia's Christmas Wish. The link for Memorials is broken so I went ahead and made the donation and created the card that I was going to send. I am going to email in pdf. We went to Brunswick yesterday and talked to Toys for Tots, they said that the donations are still down this year. The younger children are good, but the 10 and up are hurting. Olivia, should be able to help some. A cute story, while we were at the mall in Brunswick we heard a dog bark in the mall...there is not a pet shop. We went to find it. It was the Humane Society. After looking around at the animals were getting ready to leave I had the distinct prompting or remembrance whichever you want to call it, of one of your posts about being sure that Olivia loved animals as much as you. I talked it over with my husband and asked him if on our way out of the mall we would donate to the Humane Society as a part of Olivia's Wish. We did. [Peach], you will never know how blessed my life has been to see Christmas this year through Olivia's eyes. These are only two things. I guess since I do not have children, Christmas has always been somewhat painful. But this year, it's been different for me. I have searched through the eyes of a Celestial child, yours, for opportunities of service. They are all around. I have been blessed. Yes my arms are still empty this Christmas, but my heart is full. Olivia's Wish helped put me in the mind set to focus on my Savior. I have not doubt that your little girl has a part in her Christmas wish, because there was an excitement there that I have NEVER felt before. I wish I could explain. Thank you again [Peach]. Merry Christmas!"

Oh S*****! Thank you ever so much! You have no idea how much this means to me. I sit here so touched with tears in my eyes. You are a wonderful woman with such a mother heart. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Our Gift

Our city hall has an "Adopt An Elf" tree. On it are elves with a child's needs on the back of them. I didn't see any three year old little girls so I picked a two year old little girl. She had only one wish - a "Cinderella princess doll". I hope this sweet little baby has a good Christmas this year.

Olivia's Christmas Wish

Give to someone in memory of our little angel. She would be three years old this year. Pick a gift you think she would like then give it to a child. Then e-mail me a picture and/or a description of your gift and I will post it here on her memorial blog. Merry Christmas!

I Bet

I bet you love animals just as much as your momma.

Expecting

"I don't think most people realize just how much is lost when a baby dies. You don't just lose the baby, you also lose the 1 and 2 and 10 and 16 year old that she was going to become. You lose Christmas mornings and loose teeth and first days of school. You just lose it all."

from Still.
a collection of honest artwork & poetry from the heart of a grieving mother
by Stephanie Paige Cole

Tonight

As I sit here tonight, listening to this beautiful music, watching little Liv's slideshow, crying my heart out, I am filled with utter and seemingly endless grief. But I know that's okay. Evey now and then it needs to be so. I will be okay. She will be mine forever. I will see her again one day. But for now someday isn't soon enough. I want it to be today. Tonight. In my arms being rocked. Little three year old curly headed princess. I love you.

Too Good For This World

Remember in the Walk To Remember post I said I'd let you know where you can download the song Kevin Burdick sang for free? Here's the link: http://www.dempseyburdick.com/free_mp3.html. A donation would be very much appreciated as it goes toward providing headstones for babies whose families cannot afford to do so.

Headstone Help

If you or someone you know needs financial help purchasing a headstone for their baby please visit this website: http://www.dempseyburdick.com/index.html.
I have always had the same thought. I thought of doing a fundraiser to buy the small temporary metal haedstones that are flat on the ground for the babies without headstone in Olivia's cemetery. Now I'll just try to contact the families and give them this information.

Thank you Kevin Burdick.

2,000 Faces

2,000 faces to represent the 2,000 women who lose a baby to miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss, every day, in the US alone. I am face number 1,136. Click here to view my face: http://www.iamtheface.org/?page_id=2552.

Walk To Remember

Every year our local chapter of SHARE holds a Walk to Remember at a local park. Every year the day of the walk we have been out of state visiting hubby's family. This year I was bound and determined to go. I'm so glad we did.
We all gathered in the amphitheater.

The back of the t-shirts.

Display as you walk in. Click on it to make it larger. Brought back so many memories of the day Livy was born. Little dress. Little bear. Little hands and feet.

Waiting for the program to begin.

This is me, Olivia's momma.

The fella who read a poem.

This fella came from Arizona to talk and sing for us. He lost a daughter. The song he sang was absolutely beautiful. I'll post the link as soon as I find it. Check back later if you're interested. His name is Kevin Burdick.

The walk.



Others on the walk.



Livy's balloon.

A balloon for each baby lost to this world.


Remembering a friend's baby since she wasn't able to be there.

Two gals read all the babies' names and as each name was read they're loved one(s) released a balloon for him/her.

My friend's baby's balloon flying high.




Olivia's balloon on it's way to heaven.


Silent tears fell down my face the whole time. It was such a wonderful experience. Loved it. So glad we went.

Wave of Light

Acceptably Painful

Last month was the first time I haven't been to Livy's grave at least once a month. She had no flowers or figurines or anything at her place last month. I thought about it every couple of days. I never planned on going though. Each time I'd think about it it felt acceptably painful. I no longer had to go. I wanted to go. But I'd let the idea of going sit in my brain for a minute or two and the thought passed. October came so so quickly. Before I knew it it had been a whole month and I had not driven that drive up the hill. I was a little shocked. A whole month. I do feel guilty because our little Olivia's place had no flowers for a whole month, but as far as how I feel just about the fact that I didn't go to "see" her, it feels acceptably painful. No longer a dire need. There is no longer an insurmountable urging force. And I think that's okay. Maybe.

Walk to Remember

Every year we have been out of town for our local Walk to Remember. This year I am bound and determined to be there no matter what. Visit www.nationalshare.org to find a Walk to Remember near you.

That's Strange

We have adopted a baby girl. Twice now I've called her Livy. That's strange. I'm sure it's just an oopsie like when my momma would call me by one of my sister's names. But it felt like a slap in the face each time I heard myself do it. That's strange. My husband's done it twice now, that I've heard, too. That's strange. I guess she's just on our minds. Having this baby girl reminds us of what we never got to have with Olivia.

In Two

When I found out that you had died,
My heart split in two.
The one side filled with memories,
The other died with you..
I often lay awake at night
When the world is fast asleep,
And take a walk down Memory Lane,
With tears upon my cheeks.

Remembering you is easy,
I do it every day,
But missing you is a heartache
That never goes away.
I hold you tightly within my heart,
And there you will remain.
Life has gone on without you,
But it will never be the same.

For those who still have their children,
Treat them with care.
You will never know the emptiness
As when you turn and they're not there.

-Unknown

You Don't Have To

"You don't have to be strong for others. You are not obligated to get back to normal so that others are comfortable around you. Grief is a sign that you are healing and growing as a person. Let it happen." -Unknown

Fingerprints

Your fingerprints are on my heart,
Ever since I held your little hand.
You touched me.
Even though I never heard you speak
You taught me.
You taught me about love.
You taught me about caring.
You taught me about courage.
You taught me about faith.
You taught me about happiness.
You taught me about sorrow.
You brought me closer to my loved ones.
You brought me closer to myself.
In the time I cared for you
My life changed,
Never to be the same again.
Because of you
I know I will be more prepared for life.
All this from tiny fingerprints
That touched my heart.
Because of this
You will forever live in my soul,
Never to be forgotten.
I will always love you.
You are my child.

-Unknown

Men Do Cry

by Ken Falk

I heard quite often "men don't cry"
though no one ever told me why.
So when I fell and skinned a knee
no one came by to comfort me.

And when some bully boy at school
would pull a prank so mean and cruel
I'd quickly learn to turn and quip
"It doesn't hurt" and bite my lip.

So as I grew to reasoned years
I learned to stifle and tears.
Though "Be a big boy" it began
quite soon I learned to "Be a man".

And I could play that stoic role
while storm and tempest wracked my soul.
No pain or setback could there be
could wrest one single tear from me.

Then one long night I stood nearby
and helplessly watched my baby die.
And quickly found, to my surprise,
that all that tearless talk was lies.

And still I cry, and have no shame.
I cannot play that "big boy" game.
And openly, without remorse,
I let my sorrow take its course.

So those of you who can't abide
a man you've seen who's often cried,
reach out to him with all your heart
as one whose life's been torn apart.

For men DO cry when they can see
their loss of immortality.
And tears will come in endless streams
when mindless fate destroys their dreams.

Embrace

We must embrace pain and burn it as fuel for our journey.
-Kenji Miyazawa

A Day, A Month

A day of grief lasts longer than a month of joy.

-Chinese Proverb

Still

Please don't tell me not to cry.
Please don't say there's a reason why.

You don't know what I am feeling,
Or how mush I hurt.
The wet spots are from tears,
On the collar of this shirt.

You think I should go on with life-
Forget about it and be strong.
But deep down I am sad,
And I don't want to go along.

I don't expect you to understand why
For no apparent reason I break down and start to cry.

My life has changed forever, you see.
And that is why I'm not the same ol' me.

So please don't try to act like nothing happened
Because it's changed my life forever..
I will never be the same again-
Not today, not tomorrow, but never.

The best thing you can do for me is just be there-
Just like always, my friend.
My broken heart is hurting bad
And it will never mend.

-Unknown

From A Friend

It touches my heart when other people remember her. Thank you.

It's Personal

Some gals who check this blog regularly ask why I never post anything personal. I'm really not sure why. It's not that I don't still grieve a little every day. It's not that I'm worried that friends and family will read it and judge me. I don't know why. Lately I've been wanting to post something personal. It's some feelings and thoughts I've been having. I've been thinking it over in my mind for about a week now and had all the perfectly formed sentences in my brain to correctly express what I wanted to convey. Now it's all left me. However, it seems important to me so I'll press on.

Olivia's third angel day or birthday, or whatever you'd like to call it was May 1st. It's never overwhelmingly depressing. Actually a little bittersweet. The reason for the bitter is obvious, but the sweet seems surprising. Just now I'm wondering where that comes into play and I think it must come from the knowledge I have of where she's at and that we are an eternal family and that I will see her again one day. Point is that it wasn't a horrible day/week. Of course I was sad and cried and had a tough time, but it wasn't horrible...until the next weekend.

The little boy across the street was born a week after Livy. I remember being pregnant right along with his mom and chatting a couple of times about the babies. And about a month after Liv was born, on my first venture to the mailbox, her husband asked if we had our baby early because I was obviously not pregnant any more, I said we did, and because of the smile on his face that told me he was going to say congratulations or something of the sort I immediately spat out that "she didn't make it". For some reason I remember the exact words I used. Which somehow reminds me of how the cleaning ladies at the hospital the day after Olivia was born and we were in a postpartum room told us congratulations and I somehow smiled and said thank you.

Anyway, every time I see this precious little boy playing in the yard I remember Olivia. Every time he falls I want to run to his rescue. Every time he does something big for his age I feel a little proud. It is odd. It feels odd to me. But it just happens.

Well, this little fella had a huge third birthday party in his front yard with balloons, decorations, a big bounce house, lots of family, and tons of presents. That was a horrible day. I couldn't tear my eyes away. I sat just inside a front window in the shadow and balled. I tried to move. Then I walked away a few times, but I always came right back. I watched this family celebrate the third anniversary of this precious boy's birth and grieved at the emptiness of our home. Yes, we have been blessed with a rainbow baby. But that rainbow baby should have an older sister. There should be half deflated balloons in our home from the previous weekend when we had his sister's third birthday party. There should be a room downstairs painted pink with lacy curtains. I should have been telling her to hush as not to wake baby brother from his nap. It was the worst day I've had in a long time.

Then came Mother's Day. I didn't go to the first hour of church because our rainbow baby was napping, but I doubt I would have went anyway. I have gone every Mother's Day in years past, but because of that birthday party this Mother's Day was harder somehow. All in all it turned out to be another bittersweet but not horrible day.

Then there was Memorial Day. This day has never really gotten to me. I think I recall in a past post saying the same thing. Where I grew up, in the South, Memorial Day was a day to honor the deceased military. Not until I moved to the West did I learn that people used it as a day to remember all their beloved dead. My first Memorial Day after losing Olivia was spent in frustration at all the children at the cemetery who trampled the lawn and played with all the flowers, wind chimes, and toys left at the angel's graves. The next year I bought and put up a picket fence around Liv's grave to keep the kids away. It actually worked. It's been more of a day to protect "her" than to remember her/grieve for her. When I went the day before Memorial Day this year to put up her fence it was dusk. As I started to push the stakes of the fence into the ground tears started to fall. Angry tears. Anger from having a daughter's grave to have to protect. Angry that she wasn't here and I had to care for her grave instead of her. Then they turned to tears of sadness and I wept. I got all the fencing put down except for the piece at the bottom of her headstone. Though there were people around I knelt down, laid my head on her headstone, and wept. I felt I had no strength to do anything but that. No strength left to hold back the tears. No strength left to pick myself up and walk away. It just happened. And gratefully the few people there just let it happen. It didn't take too long for me to use the happy thoughts of where she is and how I'll see her again one day to drive the sadness away and dry up those tears. I suppose it was a needed cry. Well, anyway aren't all cries needed cries? I drove home sane again, for every mother of an angel goes through seconds of insanity during these brief and intense grieving moments.

The next day we visited her grave. The cemetery was absolutely gorgeous. It seemed every grave was decorated with flowers and/or balloons. Driving to "Baby Land" Liv's place was easy to see thanks to the pretty, white fencing. Our earthly family of three got out and placed our gifts there for her. Sometimes my visits are unfeeling, like I just haven't got the energy to let myself feel anything. This was one of those times. We took our pictures and left.

Just now while typing this I realize how the fencing is the only way I can show my motherly protection for her. I've always realized how the flowers, ribbons around the top of the vase, dolls with bottles, figurines and trinkets are the only gifts I can give her, but just now realized what that fence truly means to me.

So, it's been a tough month or so, on and off. I do feel. I do grieve. Though I don't post it often here I am experiencing these things right along with you angel mothers, and I wanted to share this most recent span of grief with you. You are not alone. All my love.

Another Birthday