A Final Goodbye

there is no new ground to till,

there are no new seeds to plant,

there will be no sweet harvest,

it's all been said and felt before,

I will ache until my dying breath,

goodnight my peanut,

goodnight my child,

rest among the Angels where you belong.

This will be my last entry in this Blog. It's helped me cope, it's helped me survive, it's helped me live again. I don't think I will ever heal more than I have these past four years. Thank you for all your support and understanding while I have cried, rambled, cursed, and vented. Hopefully this blog has also helped others affected by child-loss and grief. May time salve your wounds to the point where you can once again breathe and dare I say laugh. 

Peace be with you!

Ben

If time heals all wounds, I need a refund...... it's not working

It's hard to believe it's already been THREE years since I kissed my Little Peanut goodnight for the last time. The routine nature of Aug 15th, 2009 stands in such stark contrast to the absurdity and surealism of Aug 16th, 2009. How can the world change so quickly? While we slept, the last of our 'innocence' or 'naivete' about the true nature of life was stripped away. This is not to say that we were ignorant of the severity of Olivia's condition, we were fully aware that her life was always more fragile than most, but the suddenness of her departure magnifies the loss - never a true goodbye. The truth that all life must end in death was laid bare in the three hurried strides  I took toward her crib that Sunday morning. I can't even recount the number of times that scene has haunted my mind without anyway to remove it.

How can time fly by, yet seem to go nowhere?

It's been far too long missing your smile. Just once more... for even a second....

Miss you so much!

Love you always!

365 Days of Eternity

One year ago today I put our sweet Olivia back to bed after her 2am feeding. I rocked her to sleep, kissed her forehead, rubbed her cheeks, and whispered "I Love You, Sleep Well." Little did I know, as I quietly pulled the door shut and crawled back into bed beside Sara, that I had just spent my last moments with our precious Peanut.

The stillness of that Sunday morning was completely misleading, soon to be broken by the frantic cries and screams of breaking hearts and shattered lives. When I woke up to sun streaming into our room rather than cries from the baby monitor, I knew something was wrong. I checked the clock, it said 9am, a bit past Olivia's usual wake-up time. As soon as I opened the door to her room, I knew my recurring nightmare had come true. Holding my precious Olivia, still and lifeless, no cooing, no crying, no giggling, no wiggling, just still; a quiet peaceful look on her face. She had departed this life after fitting more into her 6 short months than many people experience in a lifetime.

Life is just a Roller Coaster

Even though it's been quite a while since I written anything in this blog, it's never been far from my mind. The last months have had ups and downs, with the downs luckily not reaching depths that they did in the early months after Olivia's death. I have been able to set aside times to grieve, or at least control & suppress what 'normal company' would consider 'inappropriate' times to grieve in public. I've found that if I create a routine that allows for my private & sometimes public expression of grief, life proceeds much more smoothly. Even though the majority of Olivia's ashes are at home with us on her Memorial Shelf so she's with us every day, I still try to make it to Olivia's grave once a week.

Life is just a Roller Coaster

Even though it's been quite a while since I written anything in this blog, it's never been far from my mind. The last months have had had ups and downs, with the downs luckily not reaching depths that they did in the early months after Olivia's death. I have been able to set aside times to grieve, or at least control & suppress what 'normal company' would consider 'inappropriate' times to grieve in public. I've found that if I create a routine that allows for my private & sometimes public expression of grief, life proceeds much more smoothly. Even though the majority of Olivia's ashes are at home with us on her Memorial Shelf so she's with us every day, I still try to make it to Olivia's grave once a week.

Turning a Corner or Just Turning Circles?

First I'd like to thank everyone who has provided us support since I started this blog, but especially the kind words over the last few weeks. It's obviously been a difficult couple of weeks since Olivia's 1st Birthday, but we have managed to make it through 'to the other side' and have grown in the process. Thanks.

There have been days recently where it seems easier to smile, I don't know if it's partly the slow movement from a long gray winter to the bright, crisp early signs of spring, a slow acceptance of what is and how life will be w/o her, or if it's just a temporary respite before the next storm?