How Great The Pain of Searing Loss

What a month this has been. How quickly a change in life and a sense of normalcy has also followed.

Just before all of this happened, I had an appointment with my therapist. February and March always seem to be hard months for me. Every year I admit I'm struggling, but don't understand why. Lack of sunlight? Winter blues? Lack of exercise during the cold months? Maybe. But my counsellor was quick to remind me that April is just around the corner, and grief isn't an unusual response for me this time of year. Year after year it always feels a bit surprising. I'm not thinking of Brooklyn any more than usual, but my body is responding in a way that is anticipating the sadness to come. "The body remembers what the mind forgets" - Martha Manning.

The past month my emotions have been very up and down, as I'm sure many people can relate to. The uncertainty in this time leaves me feeling a lack of security. I'm such a planner. I like knowing what is around the corner and being prepared for it. That just isn't realistic these days, and so I've struggled with that at times. On the other hand, all of the forced time at home has made me slow down and appreciate things I was too busy to be noticing. Aubrey and Aveline have such a sweet friendship and I have seen that flourish in really cool ways this past month, even though it doesn't come without moments of arguing... Our 4th baby Sullivan was born September 2018 and he is 18 months old now, in a really fun stage of exploring and displaying his personality. Being our last, we have really been taking in all of the "lasts of the firsts" with him. Not rushing to be places all the time has made this stage especially sweet. Derek has been working from home in our basement office, and I've been able to help him plan youth programming in ways I'm normally unable to. We've had some great conversations and have been able to connect. Despite the lack of control and the chaos in the world around us, there have been some really big blessings during this time.

Right now it's 2:34pm on April 4th. When I think back 6 years ago, I had been in labour for over 12 hours with Brooklyn already. Things were picking up and getting more intense, and just 3 hours from now we would find out that our sweet girl had gone to be with the Lord. I would still labour and deliver her lifeless body, into a world that would feel even more broken than before.

I wrote a post on April 21 about the stages of grief. A friend just posted recently on how collectively, the whole world is grieving right now and it reminded me of these stages and how I've felt each one of them at some point this past month.

It's so true. We are all grieving right now. For some of us, it's the loss of baby showers, wedding celebrations, trips planned to see loved ones. For others is loss of employment, loss of loved ones and friends. For a lot of people it's losing their sense of self. Trying to understand who they are without their usual routines, social outings, workplaces etc. COVID-19 has taken a lot of things from so many of us.

When we're going through hard (read... very hard) times, it can be easy to think we are alone in our feelings and hardships. Right now, everyone is suffering a loss in some way, shape or form. It can be overwhelming, feel impossible to come through when there is no end in sight,  It can also be easy to become self focused right now. Trust me, I'm there. While it's important to feel all the feelings and not push against them, I'd like to offer it's important to push against the grain, and be a light in these dark times.

We were so blessed in our time of greatest darkness to have others offering us light. This came in the form of meals (totally my love language...), time spent at our house with us, prayer, encouragement, people speaking Brooklyn's name when it felt like everyone was forgetting her. 6 years later and we still have people offering light to us on this weekend that feels dark and heavy. People texting us saying they're remembering her, cards being sent, etc.

While we're collectively grieving as a society, yes we need to take time to process, feel and care for our own families. And I agree it's not a time to overextend ourselves. But we also need to remember that these times are dark for everyone. If we're all caring for our own and not reaching out (from a distance), how will the world ever see light again?

As we remember our sweet daughter who would be SIX this year, it comes with mixed emotions. I pray that her life and her loss continue to point people to Jesus, to help others going through similar loss and to push us to offer light to other people during hardship.

Climbing out of the Trenches

A little while ago, I realized that between July 2013 and September 2017, my body had just one month where it wasn't nourishing or growing a human being. And boy was it feeling the effects...

I haven't written in a very long time. A few people have asked if I will again. I have always wanted to keep writing but to be honest, every time I went to write I would get scared of the vulnerability it would take to be real. As I scrolled through old photos tonight, it felt like it was time to write.

I'm very sensitive to the fact that it has been a privilege and a blessing to grow three humans, and nurse two of them. I know there are many women who long for the opportunities to experience these things. But in the winter of 2016, I realized just how tired and weary I had become.

I knew I hadn't given myself the proper space to grieve. We got pregnant with Aubrey so quickly, and then I was busy learning how to be a mom. Then 8 months later we got pregnant with Aveline, and this time I was learning how to be a mom to two. I was learning how to manage the different needs of two people who at times needed me equally. It felt overwhelming. I didn't realize how the beautiful chaos of raising children would bring to light so many internal struggles I had.

My days with two kids 17m apart felt very long. The routines felt never ending. My patience and energy felt thin. I started to feel overwhelmed with all of the things I had once longed for. Then came the guilt - "I should feel so thankful for all of this, after losing a child." "Why can't I just speak calmly and remember they're still learning too?" "Why can't I just be more like _______'s mom. They seem to have it altogether."

I remember a specific day standing in my kitchen thinking "this is what it feels like to have a mental break down. I can't handle this anymore. The girls would be better off with another mom who had the patience for them." Thankfully, I was able to recognize what thought patterns like those mean. And after talking with some people I trust who struggled post-partum, I decided it was absolutely necessary to get help.

Through this journey has come so much self-discovery. I've worked through a lot of the grief over losing Brooklyn and all of the guilt I didn't realize I was holding onto, as well as some personal issues that have been weighing me down for a very long time.

We can try to push grief, anger, sadness, etc. so far down, but eventually it will get to a point where it starts overflowing like a boiling pot. That's the point I was at in my life. There were too many things I had pushed down, trying to just keep pressing forward in life. But eventually my heart and my mind weren't able to manage simple every day tasks because they were so busy trying to process things I kept pushing away.

I am no where near the end of this journey, but some very positive things have come from realizing I can't do everything with my own strength. I'm learning what it means to rely on Jesus and praying through moments when I would have lost my temper before. I'm learning what it means to ask other people for help (this is a very hard one for me...) I'm learning what it means to set healthy relational boundaries. I'm learning what it means to ask for forgiveness from my children when I do lose my temper. And most of all, I'm learning how to be genuinely gracious with myself, and not hold onto guilt, because it's not actually mine to hold anyway. I'm not perfect at any of the above things. I still fail every day. But that's the beauty of grace.

Through lots of work and discussion with my therapist, I can now say with full confidence (and full belief) that there was nothing more in my power I could have done to save Brooklyn's life. This was one of the biggest realizations I had in therapy. I was holding on to thoughts like "if I had pushed more for an ultrasound", "If I had just told my midwife I was really concerned", etc. When in reality, I did those things and more. There was nothing more in my power I could have done. I am very much at peace with that now.

I am at a place where I can think of Brooklyn and actually feel joy sometimes. I know that may sound crazy, but now when I think about her, I'm able to remember the feelings I had of anticipation and joy when I was expecting her, and not JUST the feelings of deep sadness and longing. I will say I still have days and moments where my heart so longs for her to be here. I think that's part of living in this broken world. My heart longs for her because it isn't right to be without her. When Aubrey asks about Brooklyn, or says that her big sister is in Heaven with God, instead of crying tears of sadness, I'm now able to have tears of joy. When Aveline points to the canvas photo of Brooklyn outside of her bedroom, I feel excited to tell her about her big sister when she can start to understand a little bit more like Aubs does.

Reading this over, I realized my thoughts are so scattered. I just want to give hope to some parents who have experienced a loss or think they will forever feel like they're wandering aimlessly through life. Really I want to give anyone hope who has experienced loss or life hasn't panned out the way they had hoped. I didn't think it was possible to feel genuine joy again. I had come to the conclusion that joy just wasn't in my cards, and all I needed to do was to complete the tasks of life and keep pushing through.

Sometimes those big feelings of loss are really hard to deal with. But when we give them the time and space they deserve, that's when true transformation happens. If we let God bring us through the fire, he can use the heat to create beautiful beautiful masterpieces.

As Daniel Tiger says, "It's okay to feel sad sometimes. Little by little, you'll feel better again."

A Time To Taste

In 2014, when we lost Brooklyn, a dear friend who is all too familiar with loss, gave me one of the best presents I have ever received - a book called "Tear Soup". It was written by a nurse who has worked with bereaved patients for many years. She actually included patients in the writing and brainstorming. It's written like a children's book, but tells the story of a woman named "Grandy" who has suffered a great loss in her life. The author compares making a home made pot of soup, to how we grieve after loss.

At the end of the book Grandy's grandson Chester asks her if she's done making her "Tear Soup" yet. She replies: "Well, I don't think you actually ever finish. The hard work of making this batch of soup is almost done though. I'll put the rest in the freezer and will pull it out from time to time to have a little taste" (Schwiebert, 2013).

I've recently been pulling out my pot of soup quite often. The grey January days we've had certainly haven't helped. Lack of exercise and sunlight does not bode well for my mood. I know this about myself and even though I always know it's coming, somehow Janauary rolls around and I always feel like I'm in a funk. I've been thinking about Brooklyn and my labour and delivery with her often. Both obvious things and random things seem to be triggers for me lately.

Derek and I have been watching "How To Get Away With Murder". I don't want to give any spoilers, so if you haven't watched - SKIP THIS PART!!!! but the season finale of season two hit me hard. Derek was sitting on the other couch and asked if I was okay. When I didn't answer, he knew I wasn't and came to sit beside me while I "ugly cried" for a long long time. It was the first time in a while that I had cried like that.  This episode brought me right back to being in labour in the ultrasound room, while they were trying to find her heartbeat. The words Annalise (the mother) was saying, her reaction to holding her dead child, her husband's reaction to finding out their baby had died - all of it was just too similar to our story. The social worker we talked to a few days after Brooklyn died told me that 50 years down the road, I will still be able to put myself right back in that ultrasound room, and I really do believe her. My memory of those moments/hours/days is still as clear as if it happened yesterday. 

As time goes on, I'm learning to just sit with my feelings, instead of run from them. This is definitely a work in progress for me. When you've spent most of your life running from negative feelings/circumstances instead of dealing with them head on, sitting and feeling these emotions is really scary. Timothy Keller talks about how important it is to walk through the fire when these situations come, and how God actually uses the fire to produce beautiful things - assuming we actually take the time to sit and feel the heat.

For people to heal, there needs to be space for them to grieve the way they need to. In Western culture, we are encouraged to briefly grieve and then move on - of course continuing to be productive members of society. Often times when people discuss their missed loved ones, they are accused of not having "moved on" or seeking attention. But what if remembering is exactly what our hearts need? What if openly talking about how much we miss our loved ones, or how sad we are about the loss of what could be, is actually helping others deal with their grief too? Knowing someone else is feeling, thinking, grieving similar ways to you is such a freeing feeling.

"Grandy" says: "Then comes one of the hardest parts of making tear soup, it's when you decide it may be okay to eat something instead of soup all the time. (Schwiebert, 2013.)" Isn't she so wise... but how sweet it is to pull out that soup from time to time and have a little taste. It makes me feel like Brooklyn is close. It helps me to feel like God is near - because who better to know how it feels to lose your firstborn child than Him? It's even what makes me feel close to Derek.

"I've learned that grief, like a pot of soup, changes the longer it simmers and the more things you put into it. I've learned that sometimes people say unkind things, but they really don't mean to hurt you. And most importantly, I've learned that there is something down deep within all of us ready to help us survive the things we think we can't survive. (Schwiebert, 2013.)


Schwiebert, Pat. Tear Soup: A Recipe for Healing after Loss. Portland, Or.: Grief Watch, 2013. Print.

A Thrill of Hope...

Life with a 22m old and 5m old is busy to say the very least. While I still think of Brooklyn often, my mind is no longer consumed with thoughts of her. But Christmas time always seems to be different.

I have felt especially tired and worn down lately. I really couldn't pin point why (other than this season being busier than normal), and then I realized how often she has come to my mind recently. For some reason, everything about Christmas makes me think of her. This year it started when I decorated our tree. I kept having flashbacks to decorating our tree the Christmas I was pregnant with her. I remember it so clearly. The Sound of Music live musical (with Carrie Underwood!!) was on TV (back when we still had cable...), I was sipping on hot chocolate and had a belly in between me and the tree, making it a bit harder to manoeuvre around the tree.

That Christmas was especially full of hope for me. I've wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember. I was so excited and kept thinking about how the following year, we'd have an 8 month old baby in our arms. It felt surreal. But as I decorated our tree, I kept feeling our baby girl move inside of me, almost as if she was full of anticipation too.

And then the excitement, anticipation, joy - all of it was gone.

Christmas 2014 was one of the darkest places I have ever been in. To say I was "weary" would be an understatement. That year, we didn't even get a tree. I did very minimal decorating, and found it very difficult to bring myself to do any of our Christmas traditions. Our arms were empty, and even though my belly was full, I just wanted my biggest girl to be with us.

The one hope I was able to hold onto, was my faith. As much as it had been tested and as many times as I questioned God and his Sovereignty, I knew with certainty that He sent His only son to die for my sins. More importantly to me, He sent His only Son so that my daughter did not have to die, but could have eternal life with Him.

The past two years, we sponsored a family through CCAS with a child Brooklyn's age. This year, our new church does a toy drive, so we bought a toy for a child Brooklyn's age. Things like this help heal my heart. I so look forward to the day when Aubrey and Aveline can pick out the toy themselves.

"A thrill of Hope, the weary world rejoices!" On a quiet night, a baby was born in a stable, with no medical intervention or equipment, to a mother and father who were very unprepared for Him. He is the ultimate provider of hope and restoration.

Please remember that Christmas isn't a joyful season for everybody. Many people are grieving, some people struggling to put food on their table, pay their hydro bill, don't know how they will provide their children with presents, or simply don't have any family members or close friends to spend Christmas with. Please be kind. Please slow down and don't let the busyness of this season weigh on you. If you're blessed enough to have children, please enjoy each and every moment you have with them this season and try not to take their life for granted. Unplug if you need to. If that helps you to be intentional with the people around you this season. Be kind. Help someone at the grocery store, do a random act of kindness, drop off some baking at your local hospital.

If you are someone who is struggling in this season, know that it's okay to celebrate as much or as little as you need to. Be gentle on yourself, and do what you need to in order to survive listening to "it's the most wonderful time of the year" and other lyrics that can be equally as annoying when you don't feel that way.

"For yonder breaks, a new and glorious morn!"

Hold Them Close

The other night as I was nursing Aveline before bed, I decided to intentionally connect with her instead of mindlessly scrolling through the internet like I normally do. While I looked down at her sweet face, I got a flashback to holding Brooklyn in the hospital. All of our girls look very similar, but Brooklyn and Aveline are especially alike.  Sometimes it makes me happy to know that seeing Aveline grow up is probably what it would be like to watch Brooklyn grow up, and other times it makes my heart physically ache for Brooklyn.

After I delivered Brooklyn, we spent 24hrs in the hospital with her. She was born at 1:20pm, and for some reason, I just felt like I needed to be with her until 1:20pm the next day. If I didn't get a lifetime with her, I needed to have a full day. It ended up being more like 2:30pm, because this would be the hardest thing I had ever done. The moments leading up to leaving her at the hospital, I held her in the bed, and intentionally studied her face. I kissed her a lot. Still today, I can feel exactly what my lips felt like on her cold face. I hope that feeling never goes away.

I realized a couple of weeks ago that as of October 5th, Brooklyn would have been 2.5 years old. Some days it feels like a life time ago that we had her, and others it feels like just yesterday. We have lived quite a lot of life in those 2.5 years including moving, a job change for Derek, and adding two more sweet girls to our family. So much has changed, but still, missing Brooklyn has remained a constant.

In the beginning days of losing her, people were so supportive and loved on us to help us through the unimaginable. But as the months went on, I felt a lot of pressure to "move on" with life. On top of the intense grief and longing for my daughter, I had lots of feelings of guilt for not being able to just move past this loss. Many days I would just pray for the grief to pass. Not wanting to fully sit and soak in the intensity of the feelings. I longed for life to be normal again. But after a while, I realized that life would never be the same. And that I was forever changed by this great loss. The loss of the daughter I carried and held, but would never take home. A daughter I would miss out on all of the "firsts" with. A daughter I would never see grow up into a beautiful strong woman.

If you were around at all when Aubrey was young, you know just how much I struggled. Aubrey was a baby who cried a lot and wanted to be held all the time. On top of that, I was so scared of losing her too, that I carried lots of fear with me. As you can imagine, this created quite a mixture of chaos in the first few months of her life. Eventually this stage passed, and we moved on to different challenges as she is quite a busy girl. I must mention that we love her dearly, and this type A personality is learning to embrace Aubrey for who God created her to be. I'm learning to let go of trying to make her fit into the mould I've created for her, and instead create space for her to be the wonderful little firecracker that she is. This is much easier said than done some days.

When we were expecting Aveline, I just assumed that she would have a similar personality to Aubs. I pictured having a 17m old and a newborn that would cry a lot and want to be held all the time. Aveline is such an easy going, sweet girl. She is so smiley, and loves to just look around and take in everything this world has to offer. I'm also much more comfortable this time around, and the fear and anxiety I carried in the beginning of Aubrey's life is much less. I find myself actually being able to enjoy her and my arms longing for snuggles instead of wanting to put her down at the first chance I get.

When you have a child who dies, you realize that our children are not promised to us for any length of time. As hard and terrible as it is to think of, there are no guarantees that we will outlive our children. Obviously this is not something to dwell on, but understanding this has made me want to be more intentional with my kids. It's so easy to get caught up in checking my phone constantly and not giving my kids one on one attention, or being short and impatient with Aubrey because I just don't feel like I have the energy to talk things through with her. I need to remember to make the days count. 

Now that Avy is interacting more with people and the world around her, it has been so cool to see her relationship with Aubs. She lights up when she sees Aubrey or hears her voice. I can't wait to continue to see this special sister friendship grow. I'm sure there will be arguments along the way (as there are with sisters), but I want to teach these girls just how blessed they are to have a forever friend. Someone who they can count on to love them always.

I consider all three of my girls such a blessing to me. All of them have taught me so much about myself, this world, and even about who God is. But I am especially thankful that Aveline's sweet personality has brought me to a place where holding my kids feels more like a joy and less like a burden.

Aubrey has started calling me "mom" a lot now (totally makes my mama heart ache), and Aveline is growing so fast and so not a little tiny newborn anymore. 

Hold them close. They're only little for so long.

A Third Little Miracle

Eight weeks ago today, we were blessed with the safe arrival of our third daughter - Aveline Quinn.

July 17th was my set induction date. That morning at 6:30am, I called the hospital to see if we could come in. With Aubrey, I called in the morning and they weren't ready for me. I kind of just expected it would be the same way, and left my vacuuming for the morning. To my surprise, they told me to have a shower and some breakfast, and head in to the hospital. My floors would remain dirty until we got home from the hospital...

By the time they got the IV fluids and oxytocin, it was 10am. With Aubrey, I was stuck in bed on the monitors the entire time, but this time they let me walk around the hospital until I was in active labour. This made things so much better and less painful in the beginning for me!

Active labour didn't start until around 12:30pm. This was the point where I was struggling to talk through contractions, and walking was getting harder. Contractions were coming every 2 minutes.

At 1:15pm, my OB broke my water to try to get things moving faster. She checked me and I was only 4cm dilated. This was discouraging as I was already 3cm dilated the Thursday before when she checked me in clinic. Around 3:15pm, things were getting really intense. I had decided to not go in with a plan for the epidural. I had gotten it during my previous two labours, but wanted to try to go without. At 3:15, I decided to see if they would check me again. I told myself that if I was 7cm or more, I would keep going without the epidural. Unfortunately I was still 4cm. My cervix had thinned and softened but I was still 4cm. I asked for the epidural.

I'm glad that I did, because I didn't fully dilate until 2:10am on the 18th...

Backing up a bit - by 11:40pm I was 8cm and came to the conclusion that Aveline wasn't coming until the next day.

Derek and I spent the evening trying to narrow down baby names, as we still hadn't decided on a name for this lady. This was so very different than with Brooklyn and Aubrey who were named shortly after the anatomy scan when we found out they were girls.

Around 12:20am, I started feeling a bit of pressure, but not enough to push. At 2:10am, the nurse came in to empty my bladder with the catheter and said "do you feel any pressure, because your baby's head is RIGHT here. She has lots of hair!" She quickly called for the OB to come, and my midwife quickly got into her scrubs too. This baby was coming fast.

I hadn't been pushing very long and the nurse said "your baby is right here, a few more pushes and she will be out." "Do you promise?" I said. I didn't believe her and thought she was just trying to encourage me. With Brooklyn and Aubrey, I pushed for 20 minutes. I thought given my track record, it would be the same this time around. Avy had other plans... They told me to stop pushing, and I heard a loud "pop" (sorry for the graphic description), and Avy came out. She literally pushed herself out the rest of the way.

The induction took quite a while but once Avy, decided she was coming, she came very quickly.

8 minutes after the nurse saw her head, out sweet Aveline Quinn was in my arms.

When Aubrey was born, her cord was too short for her to go right on my chest. This time, Aveline was able to come right on me after they let me pull her up as she was coming into the world.

I will never ever forget that moment. The first thing I said to her was "You look like Aubrey!" And then I cried. A lot.

The whole labour and birth process this time around was so relaxed compared to the previous two. I felt so much less anxious, and felt nothing but joy when she was born. I felt a little disconnected when Aubrey came out (for many reasons), and will always feel guilty for that. This time, no guilty - just joy. I can't say enough how great this third labour experience was for me. The delivery I have always wanted.

Much to our surprise, she was a whopping 7lbs 11oz and 20inches long at just 37+4! I don't want to know how big she would have been at 40+ weeks... She was also the exact same weight and height as me when I was born! And it seems we make very consistently size babies at 7lbs 12oz, 7lbs 9oz and 7lbs 11oz.

So far Aveline has been such an easy going baby. We are so thankful for that because she entered an already very busy household!

When Avy was 3 weeks old, we spent 4 days in the hospital as she was diagnosed with a viral infection. This was a really scary time for our family, and brought up a lot of emotions for me. When you've lost a child before, and another one gets very sick, it's very scary. Scary for any parent, I'm sure, but it forced me to go through some emotions I hadn't in a while.

I continue to think of Brooklyn often. It's hard because there are many times I think about her, or want to talk about her. Sometimes I feel like if I do bring her up, other people will think I'm dwelling on the past or haven't dealt with things. The truth is, talking about her helps me process and heal.

When we sing songs about Heaven in church, I always get a little teary-eyed (sometimes I even full out cry.) Heaven was always going to be such an amazing place, but somehow has been made even sweeter knowing I have a little girl who is there to show me around. I often picture what that reunion will be like. Will she look like a baby still or a big girl? Will I recognize her? Will she recognize me? Will she call me "mama" or "mommy" or "mom" (Aubrey has just started doing this and it hurts my heart to be mom and not mommy!!!). So many questions, and while I don't want to rush it, I so look forward to that day.

Two babies under 18 months has kept me very busy. But it's not as chaotic as I envisioned. I'm actually quite proud of myself for the little routines we've established to make our household run smoother. And I'm so very thankful for the amazing husband I have, who has picked up where I have fallen short. Especially with Aubrey. Since I'm nursing Avy, often times Aubrey gets my leftover attention. There's a lot of guilt that comes with that, but her and Derek have become even closer than they were before, and it makes my heart so happy to see their relationship.

Avy fits into our family so very well, and I really can't remember our lives without her. I so look forward to watching her grow into her own little person, and especially watching her and Aubrey grow up together.

Undeserving

This past weekend, I spoke at a women’s retreat called Soaked in Truth. It was my first weekend away from Aubs, and although I was speaking and came home exhausted, I felt refreshed and renewed. It was wonderful to be a part of a weekend where women came together, and were honest in their life struggles. No sugar-coating, no bible-thumping, just real authentic women saying “sometimes, life sucks, and you need to walk through the fire.”

This week, I have been feeling convicted about living authentically and what that looks like. I thought I was doing a good job at being real with the struggles motherhood has brought me, but when I scrolled through my Instagram account, I realized that things look pretty great from the outside.

Don’t get me wrong, things are pretty great in my life. I love being a mama. It’s the only thing (besides being a wife) I’ve consistently wanted to be for as long as I can remember. But I think as mothers, sometimes we struggle with sharing just how hard being a mom can be. Day after day, trying to raise little people to become adults who will make a difference in this world, love the Lord, and not screw them up. Not to mention the food/milk splatter, time outs, and trying to stay consistent with discipline in between.

Tonight I was having a particularly hard night. I was trying to vacuum before Aubrey’s bath time, and Aubrey was not being cooperative. Running away and getting into trouble every chance she got. I had to stop what I was doing, and redirect every 30 seconds. Now that I’m typing it out, it seems really silly. There are many parents who are dealing with things much more difficult than having their vacuuming interrupted. But this particular time ended in me losing my patience with Aubrey, and resulted in her crying because of me (both because I had run out of patience, and because she wasn’t getting her way). After the fact, I was so sad that I couldn’t even handle vacuuming and watching one child. My mind started swirling with thoughts like “how am I going to handle this in 4 weeks time
when there is a newborn, a toddler, and still things to do around the house?” “Am I a terrible mom for losing my patience?”

And then the guilt set in. I know it’s normal for moms to lose their patience, but this particular time, I felt especially guilty.

After putting Aubrey to bed, I just kept thinking about how undeserving of her I am. Why was I given the privilege of raising her, and loving her, when there are so many people who seem so much more deserving than me?

Then I thought about my weekend away. Part of my talk was on trusting God. And trusting Him, means He knows what He’s doing. I shared with the women how our children are a gift, no matter how much or little time we have with them.

Aubrey is my gift. I don’t deserve her, but God trusts me with her. This reality is very daunting, and also so incredibly gracious of Him.

A little while after she fell asleep, I went upstairs to put her blanket on her that she had kicked off. I touched her back, and felt so strongly that I needed to pray over her. If you know me at all, prayer is not my strength or something that comes naturally to me, so this was a pretty big deal for me. I prayed that God would protect her, and that He would give me the tools I need to be the best mama to her.

I hope and pray that as moms, we can lift each other up and encourage each other as we do the hardest job we will ever do. I pray that that we will be authentic in our struggles, and that we remember our children are gifts.

Feelings So Fresh

It all started at 11:15pm on a Thursday night. April 3rd, 2014 to be exact. I had been feeling extra emotional that day, but had no signs of labour starting. I wasn't due until April 9th, but was so hoping our baby girl would decide to show up soon. I was uncomfortable, and very much done with being pregnant.

Contractions started coming every 5 minutes, pretty strong. Then they moved up to every 3 minutes. I tried to sleep, but  obviously couldn't. I took a bath, and contractions got stronger. The midwife came to our house to check me around 9:30am on the 4th. I was upset to find out I was still only at 1cm dilated. Her heartbeat was strong and steady. That whole day I continued to labour at home, as they only admit you when you're 4cm so I had no other choice. Walking around, moving around on the exercise ball, and wondering how the heck I was going to survive labour if those "strong" contractions had only gotten me to 1cm.

The midwife came to check again around 5pm. Still only at 2cm. This time she had a hard time finding her heart beat. She found it eventually, but it was faint. The midwife said she was likely face up, and that's why labour wasn't progressing, and it was hard to find her heart rate. My blood pressure had gone up significantly, so we all headed to the hospital and expected to stay there until she was born.

On the way there, we pulled into the underground parking and I said "The next time we leave here, we'll have a baby girl with us." I'll remember those words forever.

When we arrived, they hooked me up to the fetal monitor and couldn't find her heart rate. I could tell by the reactions in the room that something was wrong, and I began to feel anxious. They brought an ultrasound machine into the room, and the OB said "I'm so sorry." I burst into tears and kept saying "please don't leave me, please don't leave me." I'm still not sure if I was saying that to Derek or Brooklyn.

Not Just a Birthday

On February 15th, our sweet rainbow baby turned ONE. How very fitting it was that her birthday fell on family day. We decided to have her party a few days before her birthday on the Saturday. I spent lots of time planning and prepping and trying to make her party perfect. It turned out exactly how I wanted it to. It was Winter ONEderland themed, and of course featured her favourite character (right now...), Olaf!

Seeing the excitement on Aubrey's face when she saw the giant Olaf balloon and her Olaf birthday cake was so worth all of the time and energy I spent planning.

Something I wasn't prepared for, was the flood of emotions I would feel that weekend. I knew I would feel a little sad that my baby was getting older, and would now be "a year old" instead of "___ months." But I had no idea just how overwhelmed I would feel.

You see, for us, Aubrey's birthday wasn't just a birthday. I know every parent feels excitement for their child's first birthday, but for us, this birthday was more than a celebration of her birth - It was a celebration of her LIFE. It was a celebration of having a living baby in our arms for a whole year. A celebration of experiencing "firsts" that we missed out on with our sweet first born girl. A celebration of life after death.

I also didn't realize how much I would miss Brooklyn at the party. How I wish she was digging into the presents and "helping" her little sister open them. Or showing her little sister how to blow the candles out. Or showing her little sister (who had absolutely no interest in eating cake), that cake is delicious. She should be teaching Aubrey all of these things.

I continue to cry (and sometimes get angry) every time I hear the hymn "It Is Well With My Soul." My soul is so not okay with the ache that still happens from missing my daughter. Brooklyn's death will never be well with my soul. And to be honest - I think that's okay.

Thank you to those of you who read my last post and prayed that we would find a house. We DID! As if Aubrey's birthday weekend wasn't busy enough, we put an offer in on a house on Valentine's Day, and finally won! It's newly renovated, with three bedrooms and one in the basement, a big back yard, and down the street from a park, outdoor pool, and arena! We even have friends who live close by. It's perfect, and we're really looking forward to moving in. We get possession March 4th, so we're busy trying to organize, prepare, and pack.

My anatomy scan is booked for March 15th, and we're really looking forward to finding out baby number 3's gender. I'm starting to get a little nervous for the scan, because we know all too well just how many complications it can reveal, but I'm trying to stay positive and not worry until there's a reason to.

We continue to be so incredible thankful for Aubrey's birth, and more importantly, her life. Life with a baby who brings us so much joy and almost as much frustration at times. We love her, and we're grateful for all the ups and downs her life brings - because we have spent 20 months missing out on the ups and downs with Brooklyn.


One year of LIFE!


A heart dress for a baby induced on Valentine's Day!




Loving everyone singing to her!

Twenty Two

Life in the Hisson household has been very busy as of late. In November, we found out we are expecting baby #3. This news came with lots of different emotions. This baby was planned and hoped for, but we thought it would take a little longer than it did. In the very beginning, I had days when I was just scared. Scared of what this would mean for us, and scared of what this would mean for Aubrey. Aubrey will only be 17 months old when this little one arrives, and I'm scared for how this will completely turn her world upside down. I still have times when I think about how big this change will be, but I can truly say that I am beyond excited for this precious baby.

It seems that all three of my pregnancies have been so different. I was really sick with Brooklyn and Aubs. With Brooklyn it lasted until around 32 weeks, and with Aubs it seemed more intense but stopped around 14 weeks. Yet again, I had the nausea and vomiting with this little one, but it didn't seem to hit me quite as hard as the first two times. I also noticed I wasn't as tired in the first trimester as I was with the girls. I think part if it has to do with the fact that I just didn't have time to be tired. Aubrey is so busy - I'm just used to having to chase her around all day and fake the energy - even when I feel like I have nothing left.

My official due date is August 4th, but I'll be induced between 37 and 38 weeks again - meaning we'll meet baby #3 sometime mid to late July! It's funny, I always said I would never have a summer baby or a winter baby, and now I'll have a baby in summer, winter AND spring. It still seems so surreal that I'm a mother of three now. We will find out this baby's gender sometime in March, and we're really looking forward to learning more about this little one growing inside of me!

I blogged a lot about how anxious I was being pregnant with Aubs. I've found myself much more relaxed this pregnancy. I think partly because I've been so preoccupied, and partly because this time around I know what to expect. I know that I will be monitored closely, and that my midwives and OB will take great care of me. I feel so blessed to have such a great medical team, who treat me as more than just another patient. They truly care about my well being, and the well being of this baby. I'm sure the further along I get, the more I will think about the "what ifs." Once you've lost a baby, or had someone close to you lose a baby, you realize that it can happen to anyone at any time. Unfortunately, no one is immune to baby or child loss. Even if you've already been through it. I personally find knowledge is power for me. When we lost Brooklyn, I did a lot of research. The research I did personally, along with the autopsy we got back, as well as the information my midwives and OB have given me, have helped me feel like there is a good chance this baby will be born alive and well - just like Aubrey was. Until then, we can only pray, and do everything in our own power to ensure this happens.

As if being pregnant wasn't enough, in early December we decided we would list our house in January. We worked hard all of December and half of January putting finishing touches on our house and staging it to sell. Thankfully it sold in 8 hours without conditions, so we were able to move back in the day after it was listed! It was so nice to not have the extra stress of a house on the market for a long time.

Since then, we've been looking at so many houses. We have put in two offers already, and lost both. The housing market in Hamilton is booming like crazy, and competition is FIERCE. Many houses are selling for $30,000-$40,000 over asking WITHOUT conditions. We're being pretty picky, because like our first house, we don't want to move for the next 5-10 years. So we're hoping something perfect, in one of our ideal areas comes up soon. Our house closes at the end of April so it would be great if we could "win" a house soon. That's honestly what it feels like these days... We put in an offer just praying we'll win.

On February 5th, Brooklyn would have been twenty-two months old. I can't believe it's been that long since I've held her, and kissed her cold little face. Aubrey plays with Brooklyn bear often, and it makes my heart so happy. We also keep Brooklyn's blanket on our bedside table, and she has taken an interest in that lately. I often say things like "we need to be very gentle with sissy's blanket - it's very special." She often responds by throwing it on the ground and smiling at me. She is trouble - but I know one day she will appreciate the few things we have left of Brooklyn.

Now that Aubs is saying words (her favourites are "daw" - dog, "yeah", "dada", "mama", "f-shhhh" - fish, and "woof"), I have thought many times about how great it will be when she can say "Brooke." I've tried practicing with her a few times now and she's not quite there, but I know when it does happen, it will be so very special.

Sometimes I watch Aubrey playing by herself and get really sad. I continue to mourn the lost relationship her and Brooklyn can no longer have this side of Heaven. I'm really excited to have a baby so close in age to Aubrey, but like Aubrey couldn't be, this baby will never be a replacement for Brooklyn. We will always be missing her in everything we do.

Not a day goes by that I don't think about her. I recently had someone tell me they really miss my blogs. She told me her grandmother lost a baby, and even at 90 continues to think about her every day. I know that I will miss Brooklyn forever. I will miss her when she should be starting JK, I'll miss her when she should be graduating high school, and when she should be getting married and starting a family of her own. Missing her doesn't mean I don't appreciate what I do have. Trust me - when you lose a child, you count your blessings often. But it doesn't make the missing part hurt any less.

I'm so lucky to have so many close mom friends, and lots of little friends for Aubrey to play with. Recently we took a picture with all of the babies lined up by age. I couldn't help but think about a sweet little girl who was missing from the photo. She should have been there. She should be here every day, living this crazy life with us.

As time goes on, I miss her in different ways. But one thing that stays the same, is the missing part never leaves.

Please pray for us as we continue this pregnancy journey. I'm sure it will have its ups and downs - it already has. And please pray that the perfect house in a great neighbourhood comes up for us soon. We are going to miss our neighbourhood so much, and it would be nice to move into one where we are certain we can make new great memories.

Greater Purpose

Since losing Brooklyn, I honestly can't even count the amount of times I have been contact by someone who has either lost a baby or child, or someone who is looking for resources and insights for a friend or family member who has recently lost a baby.

Every single time I get these emails or text messages, my heart becomes so heavy. I go right back to the deep feelings of sadness I had last April.

Then I become angry. Angry that I'm receiving these messages way too frequently. Angry that it's 2015 and babies are still dying - some before they ever take a breath.

I was talking to a friend who has recently been affected by the loss of someone's baby. She said her grandmother was saying how it was fairly common to lose a child back in her day. But the past two years, she has heard about it more than ever. This shouldn't be happening. Things need to change. Our system is broken, and very few people are speaking out about this issue.

Mike Colle is one of those people. Mike is the Eglinton-Lawrence MPP, and last Tuesday put forth Bill 141 called the "Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness, Research, and Care Act, 2015." http://mikecolle.onmpp.ca/News/11656?l=EN#.VlB839ocA5Y.facebook

Through this act, he hopes to:

• Establish and expand comprehensive research initiatives and programs to assist mothers and families who experience pregnancy loss or infant death
• Undertake a comprehensive comparative analysis to understand the factors that contribute to an increased risk of pregnancy loss or infant death
• Develop and expand programs to help reduce the risk of pregnancy loss or infant death
• Develop and expand existing programs across Ontario to provide counselling and support to mothers and families who have experienced pregnancy loss or infant death
• Undertake a comprehensive analysis and survey of the best practices in other jurisdiction in regards to prevention of pregnancy loss or infant death

Finally - someone in power is speaking out about a topic often taboo in our culture. People still struggle to talk about pregnancy loss and infant death, and the people affected most are the parents, family members and friends of the child who has died. 

If you are interested in signing this petition, PLEASE do. You will need to print a copy and mail it in. Unfortunately in order for the signature to be valid, online petitions as well as ones that are photocopied and faxed are not permissible. 
Bill 141 Printable Petition

If you are interested in signging but don't have a printer, I have a copy you can sign! Please contact me and I will do what I can to get the petition in your hands. I will even mail it for you.

Also, please contact your local MPP to tell them how important this issue is. Their opinion matters and if they are made aware of this issue and how many people think its important, real change can happen. 

MPP Contact Information - this is the link to find the contact information for your local MPP.


Finally, if you ever hear of people who have lost a child and would be looking for resources or information, please never hesitate to contact me. When people ask me for advice and resources, it helps me feel like Brooklyn's life continues to serve greater purpose. Greater purpose than I will likely ever know. 

Someone Came Before You

It has been over a month and a half since I have last written a blog post. Not because I haven't wanted to, or because I didn't have the time, or because I haven't needed to use writing as a way to cope. Mostly because I often feel like I should be at a different stage in this grieving process. I feel embarrassed sometimes that I still have days where I miss my baby so much that my body physically aches. On November 5th, Brooklyn would have been 19 months old. Enough time has passed, that I feel like there's an expectation from others that I should be "better" by now. That thinking about Brooklyn, or talking about her somehow means I am dwelling on the past and not "moving on". I feel awkward bringing her up in conversation, or talking about my labour and delivery story - as if my story of her birth is any less valid or important than any one else's.

Right after we lost her, we met with the social worker at the hospital who told us this would happen. Time would move on, so would other people, slowly they would stop acknowledging her existence, and we would be left feeling like we are scrambling to hold onto any pieces of her memory we have left. This is how I've felt lately. I know it's not an intentional thing or something that is done to hurt us, it's just what happens when time moves on and our baby doesn't move with it. It's not even that I want to talk about her all the time, I just long to hear anyone say they miss her too.

Missing her definitely comes in waves. Actually no - missing her is constant, the intensity of this feeling varies. August, September, and the beginning of October were really hard months for me. I missed her like crazy and I felt like I was struggling to be a good mama to Aubrey because of it. I can't pin point the exact time the intensity lessened or why, but the feeling is easier these days. I know that the overwhelming longing will return again, and that I will be a little bit stronger each time it does.

I still keep Brooklyn's blanket on our bedside table. The only time I move it is to pick it up and smell it. Sometimes I feel weird for doing that, but when the memories we have of her are so few, I'll take what I can get. I know one day I will move it, maybe even tuck it away in her little memory box, but I don't like to think about that yet. Aubrey's things are scattered around our house, it helps me to know that Brooklyn has something lying around too.

Lately I have been trying to do more things for me. Since we got pregnant with Brooklyn in July of 2013, my body has either been used to grow or nurse a baby. My pregnancies were both physically draining, and my pregnancy with Aubrey was very stressful. I feel blessed that I am able to do these things, but it got to a point where I was exhausted and feeling like I was giving so much of myself away and not taking any time to refuel my batteries. I've slowly started doing things for myself again, and it has made a difference in both my mood and my perspective. I've also started letting go of things quicker, and being more intentional about how I spend my time. Life's too short - I don't want to look back and regret wasting so much time doing things that don't actually matter.

Tonight before bedtime, I was reading the book called "Someone Came Before You" to Aubrey. It talks about a Mommy and Daddy who had a baby who died, and how that baby stretched their hearts big enough to let in more love again. During one part, I was choking back the tears. Aubrey snuggled in close to me like she sometimes does, as if she knew that was exactly what I needed. Tears started streaming down my face, and I held her tight and told her I love her so very much. That sweet girl has softened my heart in a way I didn't think was possible again. She has taught me it's okay to laugh so hard I cry, and that it's okay to hope for better days. She truly is our rainbow after a storm.

Not "Just" Milestones

Tomorrow is the 15th. That means that Aubrey has been safe in our arms for 7 whole months. I honestly do not know where the time has gone. I feel like I blinked and summer went by.

Our lives have been forever changed by this sweet girl. She makes our lives brighter, our patience stronger, and our hearts more full.

"Time heals all things." Is a very popular saying. I'm not sure if the person who first said this lived a very sheltered life, where they never encountered any sort of pain or grief, but this has certainly not been the case for me. I wish I could tell this person that yes "time changes many things," but it can't always completely heal them. That is not to say that Aubrey's life has not mended parts of me that I thought were broken forever. But there are certainly parts of me that will forever be empty. Though it doesn't make sense when I have a living child, there will be times when my arms will still feel so very empty. And they still do sometimes.  These feelings have changed as time has gone on, but the longing I have for my first baby girl is still very much present. I still have yet to go a whole day without thinking of Brooklyn, though she is not always on the forefront of my mind anymore as Aubrey's daily needs demand lots of attention sometimes. Who am I kidding... most of the time.

I feel like in the past month, Aubs has grown and changed so much. She is now officially doing the "army crawl" to scoot around the floor, eating three "meals" a day (though still small meals), saying "mama" and "dada" just in the past week, and her little personality seems to form more and more every day. She really is such a sweet girl - though fiery and stubborn at times. I really do believe she will make the world a better place with both kindness and determination some day - actually, she already has.

All of these milestones are so exciting for us. I am sure they are exciting for anyone who has the privilege of parenting a living child for the first time, but for me, these milestones are a constant reminder of how blessed I am to watch this second born of mine grow.

Oh how I wish I could watch Brooklyn try to figure out how to crawl, or feel the same joy I felt when Aubrey first said "mama". These aren't just milestones to me. They never will be. On Aubrey's first day of kindergarten , when she graduates high school, when (and if she decides) to walk down the aisle, when (and if she decides) to have a child of her own some day - all of these things will be extra special to us.

Of course these stages sometimes bring sadness, as I wish I had the privilege of watching Brooklyn go through all of these milestones as well. But there is also an unexplainable joy that comes from watching Aubs go through them. Such a fine line we walk of grief and joy. There was a time last year when I wondered if I would ever be able to watch a child of my own do any of these things. And now here she is, our little rainbow baby who brings us joy even on our darkest days.

My heart will forever be longing for my firstborn, but loving our second that much more deeply.

Another 5th

Around noon today, I realized I had been more emotional than usual, and was feeling physically and emotionally drained. We just got back from a trip to Saskatchewan to spend some time with Derek's family, so I just chalked it up to travelling and the time change catching up with me.

Then I realized today is the 5th. It has been 16 months since I last held my firstborn baby. I can still remember her sweet smell, and how round her big chubby cheeks were. Aubrey has the same cheeks that Brooklyn did, and sometimes when I kiss them, I feel like I'm right back in the moment when I kissed our girl goodbye, and felt her cold but soft cheeks on my lips. I would give almost anything to go back to that moment.

I wrote quite a few blog entires about how difficult being pregnant after losing Brooklyn was. Something I quickly realized once Aubrey was here, was that the difficulties weren't yet over.

Being pregnant after losing a child was extremely difficult, but parenting after loss has proven to be one of the hardest things I have ever done. In a lot of ways, way more difficult than being pregnant.

The day Aubrey was born, I was changing her diaper for the very first time. She spat up and started choking on her spit up, and then started to go blue. I pulled the emergency cord out of the wall and all of the nurses came rushing in. One nurse (who is actually a mutual friend) grabbed Aubrey out of my hands and rushed her off to the nursery. It was the scariest moment of my life. I had just delivered our living breathing miracle, and now I was sure we were going to lose her. She ended up being okay after they suctioned her, but Derek and I remained extremely nervous for a really long time after that. The first few days we had her home, I'm sure neither of us got any sleep because we were so nervous that the same thing would happen again.

And it actually did, when she was 5 weeks old, in the middle of the night she started choking on spit up again. She didn't go blue, but was lethargic and wouldn't open her eyes. We called 911 and went to Mac. Again she was fine, but another scary moment for us.

While we are more relaxed now, there are many things that are just plain difficult for us as we are parenting for the first time after losing our child. We invested in a video monitor for peace of mind once Aubrey started sleeping in her own room. This was a big step for me. I even cried that day, but knew that for Aubrey, Derek and I, it was the best decision. I often still find myself checking the video monitor to make sure her little back is rising up and down.

Even though she is a happy and healthy almost 6 month old little girl, the fear of losing her will always be in the back of my mind. Derek and I are very aware of our anxieties and fears, and have vowed to not be parents who place her in a bubble. We want her to be able to explore and figure out this world, even though at times it will be really difficult for us to let her do this. The thought of her getting hurt or working through disappointments in life already makes me tear up.

We know that for anyone who is parenting for the first time, so many things are new and scary. This has definitely been the case for us, and in many ways has been amplified by the loss of our Brooke.

We continue to be thankful for the many people who surround and encourage us through this parenting after loss journey. We're blessed to have other parents who are fumbling through parenting along side us, and the veteran parents who have been through it, are on the other side, and are cheering us on and giving advice.

My advice to any pregnant or new parents is to surround yourself with these people too. Parenting is the hardest and most important job you will ever do. It can be made just a little easier if we love and support each other along the way. 

Tiny Baby Clothes

As I sit here, on a Saturday night at just 10pm, folding laundry and unwinding from a busy day, I am overwhelmed with just how blessed I really am.

I remember so vividly how excited I was to be washing, drying, and folding tiny little pieces of clothing after our baby showers we had to celebrate Brooklyn. All of the cute girly clothes, receiving blankets, socks, towels and washcloths all folded perfectly and put away in preparation for our sweet baby. Once we lost her, I had a really hard time looking at all of those outfits baby items, knowing how much I had prepared for her arrival, and how I would never get to enjoy seeing her dressed up or using any of what I had washed.

Towards the end of my pregnancy with Aubs, I think I only did two loads of laundry. It took me a long time to work up the courage to do this - mostly because I was scared. So very scared that I would spend time, energy, and emotions preparing all of these "things" for her, only to be disappointed again. Still, I did the few loads of laundry I had, and hoped and prayed for a different outcome.

Anyone who's had a newborn knows just how much laundry you do in the first few months of their life. Something that was fun and exciting in preparation for Brooklyn, and then difficult and emotional while preparing for Aubs - quickly turned into just another mundane task that I have done many many times since Aubrey's safe arrival.

But as I sit here tonight folding tiny baby clothes, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. My eyes started to swell with tears, as I remembered those times that I washed items for Aubrey, not knowing if she would ever get to use them. Before they were just items that helped hope. Now they hold memories of things I have been able to see Aubrey do, and experiences we have had with her. Her laundry isn't just laundry, but hope that was fulfilled in the form of a 7lb 9oz baby girl.

She is here, and she is safe. Sometimes I forget that just over 5 months ago, I wasn't so sure this would be the case.

It's often the things that seem the most mundane that remind me just how blessed I am. A great reminder to me that it is such a privilege to be able to do these little daily tasks for her that "just need to be done." The time it takes to nurse her, schedule outings around nap times (even when it seems inconvenient), washing and sanitizing her toys, and the tiny baby clothes that I have the privilege of folding.

Tonight, for the first time in a little while, I am reminded of how very thankful I am for Aubrey's life and health, and the joy that she brings us. 

One Less

June 22nd marked one full year since we found out we were pregnant with Aubs. One year since we began the very scary and complicated pregnancy after loss journey. I remember so clearly the Sunday morning I took the test. It was the day after a friends' wedding, where feelings of grief hit me very hard when the parents of the bride gave their speech. So many emotions came as a result of those two pink lines, but mostly just relief that we were able to get pregnant again. One of my fears after losing Brooklyn was that we would struggle to get pregnant again. When June 22nd came this year, it felt so surreal that a whole year had passed. Some days I still can't believe that Aubrey is here safe. I spent so much time worrying about her arrival, and now my entire life revolves around tiny person.

Aubs is now 4.5 months old. I feel like she changes and learns new things every day now. Most recently she learned to flip from her back to her tummy. Her new favourite thing is to flip over and over again from back to tummy and tummy to back. It makes diaper changes a little bit more challenging. It's so fun to see how proud of herself she is when she learns something new. She has also been so interested in our drinks lately. She grabs at our cups and tries to put them in her mouth. Recently I started giving her tiny bits of water in her sippy cup to see if she liked it. It only took her a day to catch on! I know everyone thinks their child is so smart, but she really is such a bright little girl. I love her to pieces and can't wait to see the impact she makes on this world.

Last week Derek and I were driving around in Dundas because Aubrey fell asleep in the car and we wanted to let her finish her nap before getting home. We drove through Grove Cemetery where Brooklyn is buried but didn't stop for fear of Aubrey waking. I haven't been there to visit in a long time and I began to feel really guilty.

Before having Aubrey I was afraid that my love for her would change my love for Brooklyn. In some ways it has. Almost all of my time is devoted to making sure Aubrey is fed, clean, sleeping, learning, growing, happy, etc. When she is napping or sleeping for the night, I try to get things done around the house, leaving little time for much else in my life. What hasn't changed, is the fact that I think about Brooklyn every single day. I think about her when Aubrey's big blue eyes light up, and when she lets out a big belly laugh. I still wonder what colour eyes Brooklyn had, and what her sweet laugh would have sounded like. The joy is always mixed with the longing for my firstborn.

I've said it before, but recently I have really been mourning the fact that Brooklyn and Aubrey will never have a sister relationship here on this earth. When I see pictures of sisters together, I always think of Brooklyn. Even if we were to have another daughter one day, it just won't be the same.

A friend of my mom's took family pictures for us recently. They turned out really great, and we even included our Brooklyn bear in some of them. But looking through the pictures, I found myself getting sad and teary-eyed. Our family pictures will always be missing one person. And our family will always be one less than it should be. I was struck by this a lot when we were at our friends' daughter's first birthday party this past week. She texted me that morning saying that she was sad the party would be missing one little person. Knowing others love and miss her too helps soothe my aching heart just a little bit. And knowing that this friend anticipated my heart would be especially missing my girl that day helped validate how I was already feeling.

I used to feel guilty for feeling this way. Almost like if I missed Brooklyn, it meant I wasn't grateful for Aubrey. What I've come to realize is that it's okay and actually healthy to hold both feelings simultaneously. I love both of my girls, and because Aubrey is physically here, I'm able to show her my love by hugging her and kissing her and making sure she is safe. Part of the way my love for Brooklyn comes through is when I miss her.

I talk to Aubrey about her sister a lot. I tell her that she looks like her sissy, and read her a story called "Someone Came Before You", where I replace the words "baby" with "Brooklyn" to personalize it. Even in her absence, Brooklyn will always be such a big part of our family.

I'm excited for the day she starts asking about her pictures and things we have placed around the house to remember her. I'm excited for the day she can say Brooklyn's name. But I'm most excited for the day that our entire family can be reunited, and we are no longer one less.

When Grief Creeps In

Things around here have been going really well lately. Aubrey is 3.5 months old, is sleeping really well most nights, she's catching on to this nap training thing, and has become a much happier baby than she once was. She still has her fussy moments, but she is very smiley and has such a bright personality.

In two more days, Brooklyn should be turning 14 months old. I remember when we first lost her, a mum who had been on a similar journey told me that one day she would no longer be the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning. I didn't believe her then, but that is the point I'm now at in this grieving process. I've still yet to get through a full day without thinking of her at least once, though.

I miss her a lot lately. I have missed her since we lost her, but this longing is different. It's the kind you can feel in your bones. The kind that hurts your heart and makes your arms ache even though they seem full. Grief comes in waves. Very messy, complicated waves.

Many people have made this longing a bit easier lately. We've received cards and presents in the mail addressed to Derek, Brooklyn, Aubrey and I. A friend sent me the new-ish Hillsong song "Even When It Hurts" because it made her think of me and our journey of loss. If you have ever experience any kind of loss and are a believer, I highly recommend you listen to this song. Last week at church someone who had yet to meet Aubrey in person told me that she is "just as beautiful as Brooklyn." It feels good just to even hear her name coming from someone else's mouth sometimes. We appreciate the recognition that she existed, and will always have a special place in our heart and in our lives helps on the days when grief hits hard.

The past few months, I have heard more and more stories of people losing their babies. A friend of a friend lost her sweet baby boy at 20 weeks gestation. A friend from university texted me and asked for resources for her  cousin who lost her sweet baby while she was in labour - a story similar to ours. And a friend's co-worker lost her sweet girl at full term.

It has been an honour to come along side some of these people and support them through their losses, though I wish so badly there no one had to experience the loss of a child. My heart aches for every single one of these families, as I know the long journey that is ahead of them because I'm still on the journey myself. The kind of journey that will never end as long as we are living. It still just doesn't feel right that things like this happen. I'm not sure I will ever get to a place where I have the attitude of "sometimes bad things just happen..." Obviously I know things like that happen way too often than I like to think, but it still just isn't right.

I've had lots of moments lately where I feel overwhelmed with grief, and go right back in my mind to the time we found out we lost Brooklyn. Before "19 Kids and Counting" was cancelled, they aired their daughter Jill's birth story. Her labour was long - 70 hours, and it ended with an emergency C-section because there was meconium in her water, the baby's heart rate was elevated and he was in distress. They mentioned in the episode that Jill was born May 17, 1991 (my birthday) and her baby boy was born April 6th (Brooklyn was born the 5th.) This story is far too similar to ours. The one difference was their outcome resulted in the birth of a healthy boy. The whole time I was watching the episode, I felt like I was right back in the delivery room with Brooklyn. I actually cried lots of tears of joy when they safely got her baby out. That should have been how it was for us too. It should be how it is for everyone.

I've continued to have people ask me when we think we'll start trying for another baby. I just keep telling people that yes we would like to have more, but we're not sure when. This is the absolute truth. But there's another part to it. Even though we have now had a pregnancy that ended in a healthy living baby, the thought of another pregnancy is terrifying to me. Medical professionals told us all through our pregnancy with Aubrey that baby loss can happen to absolutely anyone at any time. It feels like because this happened to us once that we should be guaranteed to never have to go through it again. Unfortunately this isn't the case.

I got together with some friends who are pregnant a couple weeks ago, and we were talking about how terrifying pregnancy is. All of the unknowns and new things your body goes through. The questioning of whether symptoms or lack thereof are "normal". So many things are just scary during this time. For me, there are all of these things, plus the added reality of knowing that not all pregnancies end happily with a baby in your arms.

Despite this fear, yes we would love to have more kids one day. We're just not sure when. For now, we're loving all of the firsts we are getting to experience with our little Aubs.

I'm loving that she is so smiley and laughs often. She is forming her little personality and we are seeing bits of Derek and I come out in her. She becomes frustrated when she can't do things right away, which is very much like me. And unfortunately is a fan of her Daddy's music. Though she likes the Dixie Chicks too, so I can't complain too much! :) She has blue eyes like her Mama and her Daddy's ears and cute little dimples. Words can't explain how much we love this little girl. But yet there is still the longing for her sister, and the wondering of what Brooklyn's personality would have been like, what music she would have liked, and what colour her eyes would have been. This joy is often accompanied by the continued grief.

Thank you to everyone who continues to journey this long road with us. We are so blessed to have such a great community of people who love us and our girls deeply. And please keep the families I have mentioned in your thoughts and prayers.

Twenty Four

Yesterday I celebrated my 24th birthday. I had such a great time with friends and family this weekend, and often thought back to what my 23rd birthday was like. It was only 5 weeks after we lost Brooklyn, and I was in the anger stage of my grief. I was angry at most things, a lot of people, and felt very bitter about my life. Even though it was still full of many great things, being a mama was the one thing I've always wanted most and it had just been ripped out from underneath me.

This year was so very different. There was much more joy, and my arms were full again, yet still missing one little person.There's that old hymn that has the line "it is well, with my soul". I'm finding that no matter how much time passes, losing Brooklyn still doesn't sit well with my soul. It still feels so wrong and often times still surreal. Though Aubrey (nor any other children we may be blessed with), will never fill the Brooklyn-sized hole in my heart, she has brought a kind of joy to my life that I thought I would never be able to feel. I was especially thankful for that this weekend.

As I reflect back on the last 24 years of my life, it is crazy to me just how much "life" it feels like I have lived. So much has happened in such a short amount of time - good things and bad. I have been blessed with so many amazing opportunities including travelling to West Africa on a missions trip twice, graduating an amazing and highly acclaimed undergraduate program, marrying a man who loves me unconditionally, and giving birth to two beautiful girls. I have always been a planner - someone who likes schedules, lists, organization, and control over most things in my life. And when things in life didn't turn out exactly how I had planned, I always had a plan B lined up right behind it. My type A personality often made me up tight, not flexible, and just not very much fun to be around at times.

Along with everything I listed above, my biggest shortcoming was thinking that I had everything in my life figured out. I have had this picture in my head of exactly how I wanted my life to be, and knew the steps I would need to take to get there. It went something like this...  "Get married - check. Graduate university - check. Buy a house - check. Get a dog - check. Land a job in my field - check. Have three babies - check.. wait, our first baby died and things didn't turn out exactly how I wanted, now what...?"

This past year, the best thing that has happened to me is that I have learned to let go of a lot of my expectations. I have started to learn to give up control of a lot in my life. I've learned that it's okay to soften my heart and let people in every once in a while. And I've learned is that I really don't "have it all figured out". Someone asked me the other day how many more kids Derek and I want to have. Just over a year ago, before we lost Brooklyn, I would have said with great confidence that Derek and I definitely want to have three kids. Now I answer this question and others like it much differently. Now I say that we would love to have two more kids, but we will see what happens. Because the reality is, you just never know how life is going to turn out.

While I hope we are blessed with more littles ones, right now I will just enjoy the ones that we have. I will take in every moment we have with Aubrey, and truly savour every single "first" that we experience with her. 

People say that parenting changes you. I'm finding this to be so very true. Both of our girls have changed the person I am for the better. Brooklyn has taught me to appreciate so many things in this life, never take any one for granted, and that I'm not invincible or untouchable by tragedy - no matter how much I plan to avoid these things. Aubrey has taught me to roll with the punches, to have some flexibility in my expectations, to take things one day at a time, and that its okay to admit I don't have all the answers.

My type A personality still peeks its way through sometimes. I had a conversation with Derek today that went something like this. F: "I think my idea of fun and yours are very different." D:"Yeah, your idea of fun is writing up our budget and watching 'My 600-lb life' on TV". He isn't wrong, I actually get a lot of enjoyment out of things like writing up our budget, making lists, and getting things done around the house. But I'm slowly learning to loosen up, and that these things all provide me a false sense of control over things in my life. They're not bad things to do, I just need to remember that it's okay to do things just because they're fun sometimes too.

While I wish my 23rd year of life had looked different, I'm thankful for the lessons it's provided. I look forward to my 24th year, and however many more I am blessed to have on this earth. I hope this year is full of joy, fun, and making the most out of life as it comes our way.