It's Been a While...

Today I came to my blog to look for some pictures I had of Alexandra's memory box. I read through some old posts, cried a bit, thought a bit, and considered what I would say today to all the people who read my blog during the darkest moments of my life.
It has been a while since I came to this place and I don't really know why. I have continued to do what I can do within the Pregnancy and Infant Loss Program in Calgary, I have continued to celebrate Alexandra's memory.
This April we held our last annual Celebrating Alexandra fundraiser. It had grown difficult for me to continue holding public events to celebrate Alexandra's birthday when my heart was telling me that it was time to celebrate privately. So, we switched up our entire event, we created an amazing day of healing. We held activities throughout the day from drumming, to jewelry making, to yoga, fitness, reiki, and mindfulness, all in the hopes that we could bring peace to just a few people. The event wasn't well attended, our lowest turnout to date, in fact. But the people that were there, they left with smiles on their faces, and I think a little bit more peace in their hearts, and so, we were successful.
It's not the end for us though, I just wanted to take a step back, work on something that would help families, but not be so incredibly tied to my heart. So, I jumped head on into working on a fundraiser for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. And it's going to be huge, so I'm really excited. I feel like this will be a new beginning, a new chance to share Alexandra's memory with the world, while helping other families to do the same with their children.
What would I say to those people that read so many years ago, and those people that are reading now, is this - I have found this peaceful calm within myself that I didn't know existed. I thank Alexandra for that. I am thankful that she taught me to appreciate every single moment, to be aware that we just don't know what will happen next, so we must be grateful for every breath, every flower, every incredible moment of our lives. I miss Alexandra every day, I think about her every single day, and I am now, more than ever, aware of the incredible gifts that she has given me, especially the ability to know my own strength and keep moving forward, no matter what.
So, it does get easier...it does. It is not an easy road, but through it all, if you are kind to yourself, you will get there, you really will. And even if you don't believe it right now, it will happen. <3 p="">

Happy Birthday Little Angel

Four years ago I was sitting in the hospital with Steve, living the most real moment I have ever lived. In that moment I couldn't imagine my life going on for another day, let alone four more years. In my mind, that will always be the day the world stopped. I saw my life, a moment of it anyway, moving in slow motion, and I went through the motions, feeling like a stranger in my own mind. Shock will do that to you.
When the world started moving again, I didn't understand how it was possible, why it was happening, how could I carry on like nothing had happened? And I learned then, that I didn't have to just start moving again, like the world had. That my forward motion would be forever altered and that was ok, as long as I could take those steps with Alexandra in my heart, every single day.
Today I can't help but reflect on the last four years, and as I do that, I think about how things would be different if she were here with me. I don't like to think about that often, there are many things that would be different and many things that wouldn't be at all, but I don't think it's healthy dwell on everything that could have been, when life has presented me with a different path to travel down.
Today Alexandra turns 4 years old and while she's not here with me, and I miss her more than I will ever be able to express here, I just know that she would be proud of how we have carried her with us the last four years.
My sweet little angel will never be forgotten...and I will miss her every single day for the rest of my life.

Happy Birthday Alexandra

Alexandra is three years old today. I can't believe it's been three years, it feels like just yesterday we were holding her in the hospital. The pain has numbed over the last three years, but it's still very distinctively there. That little hole in my heart, that knowledge that I am missing one of my children.
Alexandra would have been going to pre-school this September, she would have been potty trained
(or potty training), she would know some colors, some numbers, she would be chatty like her big brother. And speaking of her big brother, she would chase him around and drive him crazy, I'm sure. She would want to see everything he's doing and DO everything he's doing. I can imagine the fights and bickering between the two of them. I wish I was listening to those fights every day.
In my head Alexandra is still a baby, it's easy for me to imagine how it would have been, if she lived, but I do find it difficult to connect that image with the one in my head of the little girl I held in my arms. It's not fair that I didn't get to see her grow up into the little girl she should be today.
Yesterday was Alexandra's birthday party and our annual fundraiser for the pregnancy and infant loss program. We had so much support this year and not only met our $3000 goal, but exceeded it by at least $1000! I will post the final total when I have it. It was an amazing day, I was truly touched by all of the support we received and by all the people that  came out in memory of our sweet little girl.
I think that Alexandra was looking down on us yesterday and I hope that she was proud.

Easter

Long time no see! I always mean to write, but can't find the words very often these days. I thought I would post today, it's been almost a year. So much has gone on though. We had October 15th declared Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day again. I read some poems at a get together for people who had lost a child within the last year. It was hard, I tried to make it through without crying, but didn't even make it past the title of the first poem without breaking down. We held a fundraiser to celebrate October 15th and remember all the babies lost. It was a pancake breakfast and we did quite well. I'm busy planning Alexandra's Fundraiser, which will be held on April 28th again this year. It's looking like it may be our biggest event yet, which is amazing since I was concerned this year about how it would turn out. We've been getting a lot of support from the people and businesses in Calgary and it is truly touching.
I've made it through almost another year without my daughter. I think about how it would be with her here often. I imagine that she would be running around and harassing her big brother. In my mind, she would be very girly and always in cute outfits, tutus, or princess costumes. Rather than stopping at the cemetery to bring her Easter present, she would have been dressed in her new Easter Dress from her Nana and Papa, hunting for eggs with her brother. It would have been wonderful.
Sometimes it's hard to just bring Alexandra's memory into things in a healthy way. It's hard to not dwell for a little while on what should have been and feel sad about what isn't. Easter is my most difficult holiday, so close to her birthday, so close. I can't help but think about how close I was to having her, how close we made it.
I just hope that, while I can't see her, I hope she's looking down on me, and I hope she's proud of everything we do to share her life with the world.

The Battle

Recently I got a "part time" job at a pub in my neighborhood. I thought it would be nice to make a little extra money. With planning the fundraiser and a vacation for next month, I may have bitten off a bit more than I could chew with the job, but I felt like it was time for me to get back out there. I say "part time" and not part time, because what should have been 3 days a week has turned into more, and that's ok, I guess, but it does add more to an already full plate.
April 27th marked 2 years from the day we found out we lost Alexandra and instead of walking peacefully through the cemetery, Steve and I had to run around picking up things for the fundraiser, setting up the hall, and getting ready for Saturday. We stopped at the cemetery and I cried, it wasn't all about Alexandra, Steve and I were arguing about something stupid, and I was frustrated and tired. And then I felt guilty, like I ruined our moments with Alexandra by being upset about other, not so important things.
Saturday went well according to other people, but not as well as I had hoped. I will upload our little news clip when I get a few minutes. I feel like there's a better way to raise more money, but I haven't thought of it yet. We received a huge book donation and many of them didn't sell, so my living room currently looks like the walls are made of boxes of books.
Yesterday was Alexandra's birthday. I had booked the whole weekend off and after a lot of confusion, I wasn't able to get Sunday off, so I had to work last night. I spent my day organizing and sorting books, trying to make sense of the mess that was once the place Dayne and I had Just Dance offs, but had no luck even putting a dent in it before I had to leave for work. We did go to the cemetery and place a lalaloopsy doll there for Alexandra. But I wish we had gotten more time there. Last year we released balloons, I wish we had done that this year too. I didn't forget about Alexandra, I didn't neglect her birthday, but I feel guilty nonetheless.
I should have waited to find a job until after the fundraiser, until after Alexandra's birthday. I had a terrible night at work, with walk outs, rude customers and general frustrations, and I walked home afterwards crying. Feeling sorry for myself, I sat in the backyard with my dog after I got home and cried some more. I just wanted to have what we had last year, a peaceful day to remember our daughter.
I am feeling overwhelmed right now. I didn't realize how much time I had to gain those peaceful moments before this, I didn't realize how much I needed them, and now, I have everything on my plate and I feel like there's no way to get back to a calm place within myself.
I am having a battle within myself. Half of me wants to just give up, curl up in my bed and cry. The other half of me keeps saying that I am strong, if I just get through this, there will be time for me to take later. I will sit in Alexandra's room and have a whole peaceful, calm, gentle day to work through these new feelings. If I can just claw my way through this little bit of time...

Easter

This is it, the last second holiday without Alexandra. I can't help but look back over the last two years and think about how far I fell and how far I've come. In the last year I learned what it's like to rise above the grief and see things clearly. To incorporate my daughter into my life in a positive way, to make happy memories that include her, not in the way I wanted, but in the way I can.
I still have bad days, sad days, lonely days; days where I wake up and think...this isn't MY life, it  can't be. Some things are still hard, other things have come surprisingly easy, but no matter what, here I am, Alexandra's mom, no matter what.
I am wishing all of the loss families out there a peaceful and gentle Easter. I hope that those who are in the thick of their grief are able to see that, it will never be the same, but there is some hope out there.

Zombies

Sometimes I feel like people are tiptoeing around me, afraid of how I will react to things. I feel like, child loss isn't a topic I'm allowed to discuss unless I'm educating people in the proper venue. If I respond to people at any other time I am told that I am being emotional or given the look that implies a pat on the head and a "Yes sweetie, we get it, you're sad." as if nothing I say holds any volume because I'm just another loss mom. I'm not allowed have a valid opinion on loss, because I've lost a child.
How does this make sense to people? And I try to express myself in a calm and assertive way, one the gets the point across without being overly emotional, but it doesn't matter because I'm one of them.
I liken it to zombies. People view loss moms in much the same way they view zombies. There are certain things that will bring us around, talking about loss, diminishing loss, losing a child yourself, we sense it and we come out in hoards. And when we pop up, people are afraid! They don't know what to do, what to say or how to react. So they whip out the only weapon they know will silence us, gas lighting. Making a loss mom feel like she's too emotional to understand, to know what she's saying, to think anything rational. You'll hear comments to an offender that has brought us about that run the line of "Good job, you've riled the loss moms!" And then, like a good zombie hunter, they whip out their weapon and fire..."Maybe this isn't the best topic for you dear...", "I know it's hard, but try not to be so emotional.", "Sweetie, you need to let go of this."
Yes, I have lost a child, and life is hard without her. And yes I will speak up when someone is ignorant about child loss and everything that the grief of it entails, but I'm not to be feared. My words may help someone, silencing the people that have been there is the worst idea. Making us feel like we are crazy, or too emotional to be the voice for the children we lost is not fair and we've been dealt a hand that grossly lacks in fairness to begin with. What I have to say has value, and what I have lost doesn't make me useless to this world.