Today I walked into my grief counselors office and had to hit myself. I thought, “this is a dream, isn’t it? I didn’t really have a daughter who passed away. Wait, you mean I’m 28 years old and I am walking into a grief counseling appointment because my baby girl passed away, seriously, this is real???”
I find that many days I am still in denial about all of this. How could it be? How could it be that almost a year ago I bore a beautiful child of God, a gift and blessing like no other, the most beautiful thing I have ever seen or felt and it was snatched from me. Every day I wake up hoping that my nightmare will end, that none of it true. Except, that it IS true. It is sooooo very, very TRUE and REAL.
The other days that I am not in denial I’m usually ready to scream my head off at the world. I see the silliest things happening around me and I just want to shake some people and knock some sense into them. You know, let them know that things aren’t that bad for them. But then who am I to talk? I have to keep reminding myself that my journey is different (blah, blah, blah)…that whole compassion thing or something? I dunno?! (That was a little blunt, huh?) The rest of my days I just carry on because thats what I have to do. Most of my time is spent thinking about Jane, all of her cute, tiny details of her body and of course when Christ plans on returning because I’m losing patience every day. PLEASE HURRY!!!
So here I am and another year has come and gone. I definitely have not made any resolutions this year. I think I will just see where the wind takes me. Thats what I have been doing and I seem to be getting by. I will continue to ask God and seek His peace, the peace that surpasses understanding. Maybe, just maybe…I’ll even seek joy. (but let’s not get too carried away
It’s hard to swallow that its been a year already since my little girl was born. I often reflect on all the things that were going on around this time last year. I remember on the 17th I had breakfast at my aunts house with my Australia cousins. After breakfast, Daniel and I went to a fetal monitoring appointment. (which had become normal for us) Jane still wasn’t scheduled to be born until early February. We showed up to the appointment and that morning was the last time I would be home for the next 7 weeks….of course we didn’t expect any of that. Jane wasn’t moving around and tumbling as much as she usually had so the nurses sent me to the hospital to be checked in for overnight monitoring. Between bed pans and constant monitoring, not being able to get out of bed and needing to shower Daniel and I got comfortable and spent the night at St. Joes. In the morning on the 18th, Dr. Anzaldo came to visit us and told us that after much thought and weighing the pros and cons he would be doing a c-section that afternoon. DEEP BREATH….here we go…
I remember everything about that delivery. Side note: I was a volunteer at Hoag Hospital for a while so I watched several c-sections and had a good idea what was going on around me. I remember coming into the OR and it was too quiet. I asked the nurses where the music was and soon enough it was playing throughout the OR. After anesthesia and the whole process….Jane was born at 4:17pm. As soon as she was delivered a peace came over me like I had never experienced. My nerves were calm and I was so glad she was alive, that she had blessed us with her presence into this world. Daniel went right over to see her. I was sooooooo HAPPY and JOYFUL she was here!
Fast forward a year and here I am now….empty-armed, yet remembering everything about her, about my Jane. So, on her birthday we went to the cemetery to “visit” Jane. I guess I look at it more as a time to just stop and think about Jane, to cry, to remember. I went to the cemetery with my mom, my sister and Daniel. My in-laws placed 18 beautiful pink cyclamen at her grave. My mom brought a vase of vibrant flowers and 3 pink balloons. We released one of them up to the heavens. We all laughed and thought that if for some crazy reason that pink balloon really reached the heavens Jane would surely know it was for her. After we all had our moments of silence, our own personal thoughts about Jane we left the cemetery and went back home to prepare for dinner at the Ronald McDonald House. Daniel and I decided that we want to cook dinner at the Ronald McDonald House every year in celebration and honor of Jane’s birthday.
We had a nice time cooking dinner that evening. We even got to hear what other peoples lives were like at the moment and share the story of our Jane. There were tons of leftovers, but we were assured that the food will be eaten. Of course we know first hand the schedules of the parents with children in the hospital can be a little miscalculated.