Dear friends

Last night our good friends came over to cheer us up. They thought we were down because of business trials. They brought ice cream and we talked for a while. Half way through the night they asked, "Is it some sort of anniversary?" We said, "Yeah, isn't that why you are here? It's London's 3rd birthday." They had no idea. They are new friends so they didn't know the date. But it was amazing to see the Lord continuing to buoy us up. We are no longer a part of our old ward who knew all the details of London's life. Our new ward has no idea. The Lord did though. He knew we needed love and cheering up so he sent the Harris' to our doorstep. We then proceeded to talk about the trials of losing a child and they cried and we cried. It was good to get out my emotions and have someone to listen who completely understands. Thank you Steve and Laura for listening, not only to us but the spirit.

Happy 3rd birthday

Well it is 8:30-- the time you were born. This year has definitely been interesting. I haven't written on this blog all year because I have been doing so well. This year has made all the difference as far as healing goes. Maron is a HUGE factor in that healing. Now I am not the woman with empty arms. My baby void has been filled and I just eat up my baby Maron. There have been moments over the year that I have looked at Maron and watched her learn and grow and just cried and kissed her to pieces with such a grateful heart that I get to see her everyday and have those wonderful moments. But this year that is what hurts the most. I now see all I have missed. I look at Maron and that isn't where London would be today. She wouldn't be a baby anymore. She would be 3!!! She would know it was her birthday and be excited about it! This year was so much easier to handle that in the past. Problem is... I thought it wouldn't be hard at all. I thought I would handle it just fine, but I have learned something today. This is always going to hurt. Every May 3 and May 11 for the rest of my life are going to bring me pain. Next year it will be that she would be 4 and so on. Every year will be a new landmark that I am missing out on. I am better this year, but it still really hurts.
One of the ways that I have been able to move on has just been to not let myself think about it. If I don't let myself go there I am just fine. But today it seems wrong to push her out of my mind. I need to remember her today. Problem is that brings in so many painful memories. It amazed me today to feel that the pain is still so deep it almost seems to much to bear. I can literally feel my chest gasp for air as I think of her, and as I realize that... I miss her so much!!!!
This morning I sat Maron down and showed her pictures of London and it was too much for me. I pushed it aside and didn't let myself feel. The problem I felt as I looked at those pictures was the unfamiliarity of them. At the time I knew every inch of her little body and her scent, and as I held Maron in my arms I felt jipped. I know every sound, look, smell, and feature on Maron. I've had time to learn more about her. She knows me. But London was only here for a week and now here I am today and I realized I haven't seen my own daughter for 3 whole years. The memories are fading. The smell is gone, and the pictures of her in my mind are things I purposefully push out. I am forgetting. That fact alone is hard to admit.
I have been busy this year and I didn't realize this time of year had come so soon. Last week Maddy says to me, "mom, London's birthday is in 4 days!" At that moment I felt a pang of hurt fill me. That day was a hard one for me. I went to the temple with my best friend Mary that night and on the drive her 3 year old called her on the phone and yelled, "mommy I went pee-pee on the potty!!! Are you so impressed?" Jealousy filled my heart at that moment as I realized London should be in the same phase! We went through the temple and at the end we sat and looked at a beautiful picture of Christ in Heaven with His hands stretched outward showing the marks of His death. As I studied this picture with a prayer in my heart for comfort I heard the words in my mind... "He is risen. She will live again." As this happened an overwhelming feeling of comfort filled my heart. I will get my 3 year old and go through potty training. I just have to be patient and wait. But I will have her again. It is amazing to really think that way. To KNOW that I will get to have every moment I have missed with her. What a beautiful day that will be. This year didn't matter who called or remembered, but that I now understand that it is going to hurt, but I just need to be patient, for I will get this day back and the joy will be that as great as my pain.

London's headstone was put in today. How timely. It only took us 3 years to get it put in! Someone paid for it too. We don't know who, so if the person responsible is reading this all I can say is... Thank you! It helped us out so much! It turned out beautifully! It especially helped us today as we went to the grave to see her place in this world, marked where all can visit her.

Death Day #2

May 11, 2009
Death Day

I have been a bit more depressed today as I have thought about you. Thinking about the events that occurred 2 years ago today are extremely painful. I still can’t believe it has been 2 years since I saw you. I miss you dear London. Yesterday was mother’s day and it made me a little sad to not have gotten to mother you more. I have missed out on 2 years with you, but I know and have faith that I will get those days and they will be happier days than I can even imagine. I still wish our families had remembered you this year but it is okay. I remember and I miss you.

May 3, 2009

May 3, 2009
Happy 2nd Birthday London! I cannot believe it has been 2 years. I actually had an okay day today. We just moved out of our home yesterday so I have been busy and distracted and haven’t thought about it too much. We went to your grave and let go of 2 balloons. We all wrote a note on them and released them into heaven. Maddy and Boston enjoyed it. My mom came by to see me and decorate the grave as well and my best friends from church all remembered. I was fine until tonight when our good friend Stacy texted me to make sure I was okay. After I chatted with her it hit me… your birthday had come and gone. No party, candles, or presents. No phone calls saying happy birthday came like my other kids get. No ackowledgement at all from the people in my life that remember my birthday or Maddy’s birthday. It was then that I broke down crying. I guess it just really hurt to realize that as the years go by Stenson and I may be the only ones that will ever remember. That is the sad part. All anyone will ever be able to do for your birthday is remember. It was disappointing to feel the lack of support from our families. It is hard to go through when you are alone in having these feelings. For example, this past year for my dad’s birthday everyone called my mom to make sure she was okay. Why? Because it was affecting them as well. It is a hard day. With you though, most people forgot. It just feels like to them your life never happened. There are no memories or laughs to remember. I wouldn’t mind if everyone forgot your death date because that was a sad day. Your birthday should be a celebration of your life even though it was short. So I guess all I can say is, Happy Birthday baby girl! I love you and I will never forget.

Room 216

So 2 weeks ago I made some huge progress. My sister-in-law had her baby and I was next door for my ultrasound. I decided to bite the bullet and actually go to the hospital to visit. Since I got pregnant hearing about babies being born doesn't make me cry so I figured I could handle it. As I approached the hospital doors I realized this was the very hospital I had London at so I walked in and zoned out my environment trying not to remember or associate anything to her birth. It was hard but I got through it. I did it and felt that I had made HUGE progress. Well, today I think I digressed. My sister had her baby. I was super happy for her and felt no issues with going to the hospital. We went to visit her and it was the same hospital too. We walked in and I was happy was again zoning out any feelings that came my way. Until... We went to their room and needed to wait out in the hall for a bit. As soon as I was stopped I looked around and realized she was in the EXACT same room that London was born in. As soon as I realized this I couldn't get the memory of that day out of my head. We went in and saw the BEAUTIFUL healthy baby. I didn't feel jealous at all but I kept having flashes of moments in that room. When they would wheel me out to see her bc she was too frail to come see me, or when I had her and they worked on her for such a long time right by me. Then I remembered them wheeling her in to me the next morning as I laid in that bed and squeezing her little hand through the incubator before they took her away from me to another hospital and as I realized I was going home without her. Being in that room made me realize that I was standing right where I had before when my world came crashing down before me. I felt so bad as I stood there fighting back the tears without success. This is why I didn't visit hospitals. It is supposed to be a happy moment where you ooh and aah the cute baby and give your congrats.... and there I am crying remembering when it was me. I didn't get that ooh and aaahh moment. I got bad news after bad news. It was not a happy memory for me. In fact there is not a more traumatic memory for me than that night in that very room. I was fine. I think I just got blind sighted when it turned up to be her room. It just made it so hard. So Carrie.... I m so sorry. I really am happy for you and she is sooo cute. I love you. Wish I would have been stronger.
It got me thinking though.... how am I going to handle this when that is me delivering again? I am going to be a basket-case. After facing that again today I am really terrified. Grateful and excited.... but really terrified.

My Joy has finally come!

I think this is the first happy entry I am putting on this blog. It is the greatest news ever! FINALLY I am pregnant again. The clomid worked I guess. Honestly I know that God is on control and it was just my time. The saying, your joy cometh in the morning, has true meaning for me now. After going through years of this I finally feel joy. I know I still have a LONG way to go and something bad could happen again. But I have faith that this will work out. Yes, I am scared out of my mind, but it will be worth it if it turns out okay. Anything is better than getting a NO every month. I finally got a yes. I can't even begin to say how grateful I was. Month after month of devastation and all of a sudden that is over. I can think about babies and pregnancy and not feel sick inside. I am not jealous or bitter when I think of that now. I am happy and excited for myself. I am still in shock I think. This is going to be an interesting ride. But I truly can say I feel joy. It is a deeper joy now than before. I have a sweeter smile, and a happier heart. I am always excited when I find out I am pregnant but this defies all happiness I have ever felt in my life. It means so much more now. My friend Mary informed me that it was a year ago tomorrow that I miscarried. It has been a full year and here I am. This past Halloween was the 4th one I have been pregnant. I was pregnant when we moved into our home on Halloween, miscarried that baby, then pregnant with London, a year later my last miscarriage, and then here I am another year later... pregnant. Only this time I will get a baby! It is my turn!


This has been what every test has looked like for the past year.... Negative





I took this test but the line was too faint so I really couldn't tell. It looked just like the false positive test I took last month. I saw a line there but Stenson didn't. I think he really was trying to protect me from getting hurt again if it really wasn't true. So I wondered... am I pregnant or not?





I took a digital test so I wouldn't be confused by the lines. This answer was quite clear!

Get up and finish the race

Today would have been London's first day of nursery. It was a hard day but at least now sitting in church during sunday school it makes sense that my arms are so empty. They would be if she were still alive because she would be in nursery.
I didn't want to face the social side of church today. I wanted to continue to hide away, yet I was uplifted and nourished. The teacher talked about finishing the race and enduring to the end. As she said this I could hear my dad reciting the poem he always did, "Get up and finish the Race." As I thought about this I realized some things about my life over the past 3 years. It started out as the 400 M run. Then it turned into the mile. I can run the mile and I know I can handle that. Then it kept going and I was forced to run a 5 K. Wait! I haven't trained for this, how could I possibly finish? Now I feel as though I have been running a marathon and yet I still cannot see a finish line in sight. So how have I done? There have been a lot of up and down hills. Mostly uphill. I climb and I climb, yet I haven't paced myself. I didn't realize I would be running a marathon when I started and I began way too fast. I pace myself at times trying as I hard as I can not to give up. But I have failed many times. Emotions have made me clam up completely rendering me immovable for days at a time. I have shut down, stopped feeling and moving, and I have fought and pushed hard trying to catch a glimpse of an end in sight. As I run physically feeling a pain in my chest I look up and see a load of young mother's lap me. They run by me with ease. They already ran the race had their child and have started a new race having another before I have even begun to finish my first. I feel like this week I was just told that I still have miles to go, I'm not even close to finishing this race. So I guess I need to learn to pace myself without getting too hopeful, but having enough to get up and finish the race. I can't give up. I want it too bad. I just need to remember to pace myself.