You Are My Narrative

Dearest Kennedy Kate,

Just recently I attended a conference on Infant Mental Health for four days.  On a side note, sweet girl, your mama finally found something she is truly interested in to pursue post undergrad and it really makes me happy.  Plus, I have the support of many wonderful people (other than family) who are cheering me on and helping me out through it.  Okay...back to the conference.  So, it is Tuesday of the conference.  Day 3.  I have been overwhelmed by the stories, case studies, history of what mental health at the infant/early childhood level is like.  It shook me to my very core on Monday....almost to the point where I wasn't sure I could go back and do another day.  But nevertheless, Tuesday comes.  And off I go back to Milwaukee for the conference.

Tuesday morning starts off somewhat rocky again with the rollercoaster of emotions taking over until one part of the day.  The part of the day where someone asked about my pin.  The pin I wear in honor of you.  My pink rainbow ribbon pin that a very special friend of your mama's made for me and others like me who live their lives without their babies in their arms.  So, one of new friends asks about my pin and if it has significance.  I explain that it is a remembrance pin for babies who have died through pregnancy, stillbirth or in early infancy.  I then told them about you.  My little girl.  The little girl I lost at 22 weeks.  All three women were a little caught off guard about my story and then quickly apologized and showed empathy.  One of them even said that if things ever became too difficult during this program (specifically when we talk about pregnancy), she wanted to let me know that she was here to support me.  I appreciated the comfort talking about you gave me and how I was able to share your story so early on in my relationship with these new people.

As the day moved on, I thought about how quickly I had shared my story of you, especially with people I had only known for about 2 days.  Yet, it came so easily, Kennedy.  It just felt like another story of my life.  Like I was talking about a trip I had taken.  Typically, I hate thinking how rote it becomes for me to tell the story of your life.  Because it shouldn't be easy.  But it is.  It's easy because it's my life.  You are my life.  Which leads me into the next part of this blog post.

The nationally recognized speaker (who had rocked me to my very core) was leading a break-out session later on in the day.  My program required all of us "newbies" to sit in on his session.  During his presentation, he shared a story about a man who was from Poland who had been taken in by another family during the Holocaust.  The man (then a boy) lived in a wardrobe type closet for 18 months with only the man, woman and children bringing him food.  Everything was done in this closet.  The boy was never allowed to go out.  After those 18 months, the war must have ended and the little boy was given the opportunity to go off on his own and find other members of his immediate family.  According to the man, this family that he had lived with had saved his life.  Only his life had been quite terrible living in this wardrobe all day/all night for a year.  Can you only imagine?  This boy could have been scarred by the situation.  Actually, he probably was scarred.  And scared.  This was a traumatic event which probably gave him symptoms of PTSD.  Yet, the boy/man was able to move on past the event.  He lived through it and was given the chance to live again.  And he truly lived.  He lived to love and marry.  He lived to have a family of his own.  However, as he indicated in his video interview, this event was his story.  It was his narrative that made him who he was today.  He wished it didn't have to happen the way it did.  But because it did, he lived to tell about it, and eventually live out his life and be happy.

After watching this video and hearing this man's story, the speaker asked us to think about our narrative.  Our story.  A story that has changed us.  Or something that has made us who we are today.  Kennedy, I didn't even have to stop and think about it like others did.  You are my story.  You are the one person in my life who has completely changed it.  What happened to me, I would never wish on anyone else, yet it happened.  I have come to accept it.  And because of you, I am who I am today.  And I am accepting that too.  There are people who have come into my life who I would not have without you, yet I cannot imagine them not in my life now.  And there are people who have disappeared from my life because of you that I don't truly believe belonged in my life at this point anyways.  They played their role in my life, and maybe it's their time to bow out and make room for others.  That's another acceptance.  The other part of my life that I have learned to finally accept is the marriage to your daddy.  Kennedy, for as long as I live, I will never say that the ending of our marriage was due to the loss of you.  However, due to the loss of you, we became different people.  People who grew apart, and, unfortunately, were never able to find ourselves back to each other.  However, as I indicated before, special people have come into my life since then that have shown me how to be happy again.  And maybe even love again.

The story of you and your role in my life has impacted me more in the past three years than anything else in the last 30.  I cannot imagine my life without you in it.  You may not be here, but everything I do, I have you in my heart and mind.  You are never far away.  I truly believe I am a better, more thoughtful, stronger person because of you.  I think I am starting to find my place in the world again....or maybe just for the first time.  As I have posted before, there are parts/events of my life before your impact that are blurry.  I am forgetting that life.  And I am "ok" with that.  I cannot go back to that life, so why bother worrying about what it was like, who I was with, etc.  If those people and events are part of my life now, then that is the way it is meant to be.  If not, so be it.  I cannot change who I am.  I cannot change what has happened.  You are my narrative.  You are the story I want to share.  Kennedy, you will always be the missing piece to my puzzle, yet you are also the piece that I always want to miss because I don't want the complete puzzle without you being a part of it.

One of the quotes, the speaker at my conference brought up was similar to the one I am posting below.  "It is your REACTION to ADVERSITY, not the adversity itself, that DETERMINES how your LIFE'S STORY will develop, " quoted by Dieter F. Uchtdorf.  He brought this up when telling the story of the man from Poland and after we talked about our narratives.  It really is about how you react.  And in various circumstances, we react differently depending on who we are.  The loss of you, sweet girl, was my most traumatic adversity.  And, at times, my reactions were all over the place, which, in turn has caused other events to occur.  But, I believe my reaction to it now, is leading me down a path that I am comfortable with.  Maybe that is the path of acceptance.  It might also be the path of happiness.
 

Thank you, Kennedy, for being my narrative....a vital part of my story.  You brought me to the place in my life where I am now.  The clouds have parted.  I am breathing easier.  I see bluer skies.  Sunshine.  Sure, the tough days are there brought on by triggers that are completely out of my control.  But those are also a part of my life now too.  Those triggers are there because of that missing puzzle piece.  You.  And I wouldn't have it any other way.  My daughther, you are the most precious gift I have ever been given.  That is why you are my narrative.  The gift of your life will always have an effect on my life, and for that, I am truly blessed.

Love you always, baby of mine.
XOXO,
Mommy

Tears

“Tears are words the heart can't express"

And so they came.  Tears that is.  The tears that have been away for awhile.  Tears that I actually didn't push away but were actually gone.  But the tears have arrived with the month of February.  And they continue to show up.  

On Sunday night, February 12, 2012 (2/12/12), the newest family member arrived.  Little B to my cousins in New York.  This is the baby I posted about last time who was due on Kennedy's due date.  I am grateful she arrived healthy, but I am also grateful she arrived early.  Not only was I worried about Kennedy's due date but the anniversary of my Grams' passing is just around the corner too (the 28th).  I am so very happy for my cousins.  But I can't hide my jealousy.  Bitterness.  And sadness.  My baby was due in February two years ago. Yet she's not here.  She never will be here (in a physical sense).  It hurts.  I have been in touch with my aunt and cousins quite often regarding the arrival of this little one wanting only the best for them and this baby.  I did all of that because I truly care.  But when the day came that she was here and the description of "brown curls" came via text, I couldn't help but let the tears fall.  


A little girl with brown curls.  How absolutely perfect.  Born on a very special day in February.  I could no longer avoid the pain and sadness I felt at that moment.  And so the tears expressed what I felt as I made the trip to school that day.  The tears were able to be wiped away before I walked into school that day and pushed all the emotion away until a more appropriate time.  Three to five year olds need a happy, peppy Miss Alissa.  So, that's who I became that day.  That's who I need to be most days.


But the tears continue to show up at various times this month.  Tears that express my innermost emotions.  Fear, sadness, anger, grief, loneliness, jealousy, joy, hope, anticipation, etc.  But they typically fall pretty silently these days.  They fall at the most interesting moments....random commercials, random movies, random songs, random thoughts.  But, of course, they relate most to what I have lost.  At times, I think the tears hurt more now because I try so very hard to push them away.  I am so very sick of being sad...but sadness seems to continue to haunt me.  It doesn't go away no matter how hard I try to push it away.  And then the tears come.  They come as a reminder.  My reminder.  I have lost.  There is no getting away from that.  And it still hurts after all this time.  Kennedy.  Grams. Friendships long gone. A life that I expected to have.  Gone.  My heart continues to yearn for what is gone.  And the tears will always come.  They will continue to express those feelings even when I want most for them to just go away.  

On the Twelfth Day of 25 Days of Giveaways....

Hello, for the first time or the 50th time, either way, welcome and thank you for visiting "On KK's Butterfly Wings" and taking part in the 25 Days of Giveaways that was started by the beautiful Tina over at "Living without Sophia and Ellie." Last year was the first Christmas that I joined in on this wonderful event, and not only did it give me joy by winning but also by providing some joy to others.  I am honored to be part of it all again...and hope that it helps someone out there remember and honor the life/lives of the beautiful baby/ies he/she is missing.  

Just a little bit about my story....this is my 3rd Christmas without my firstborn and only daughter, sweet Kennedy Kate.  Kennedy became her very own angel after only 22 weeks gestation.  However, about a month after we lost her, we found out she had passed away due to complications with Turner's Syndrome.  Kennedy had fought long and hard to be with me as long as she could, but eventually, her little heart stopped developing.  Even as I sit here today, a little over two years removed from that day when we found out she was gone, I cannot believe it happened.  However, the one thing that always gives me some peace is knowing that she has a purpose.  That her life had purpose...and not just to me, but to many others.  Kennedy's life continues to educate others about miscarriage, stillbirth, compassion, empathy and grief.  Yet her life also teaches others to never take anything for granted and rejoice in the many blessings that you have been offered.  Kennedy is currently the greatest and best gift I have ever received.  I thank God everyday for giving me the opportunity to be her mother.  

Anyways, on to the giveaway.  As the title says... "On the twelfth day of 25 Days of Giveaways, I am offering you the opportunity to win a $40 gift certificate to Metal Stamped Memories.  This gift certificate is good towards any of the the beautiful aluminum pieces that the talented mother of Carter, Michaela, creates.  The lovely Michaela made a necklace for my giveaway last year and this year donated the gift certificate for the event.  Michaela is a lovely local Wisconsin woman who I met about a year ago at a walk called, "Miles of Hope."  After meeting her, I was able to purchase one of her necklaces that she specifically designed for that walk/run.  That necklace was one of the first pieces I bought in honor of Kennedy.  Since then, my collection of jewelry pieces has just taken off.  This includes the piece that I offered last year for the giveaway.

However, this is only one of the options that Michaela designs for mothers like me and you.  She has many more.  Here is another one of my new favorites of hers, "My love will fly to you each night on angel's wings."  There are ways that you can personalize and make it your own...Michaela is always very accommodating.  She knows and understands what it is like to go through a loss and how important it is for each of us to find ways to remember and honor our children.  

I cannot thank Michaela enough for donating such a wonderful and thoughtful gift.  I am privileged to know her and call her my friend.  I encourage every one of you to check out her shops either on her website, Etsy or Facebook.  She is absolutely amazing! :)

Okay, now on to how you can enter this incredible giveaway.  For one entry, please comment below on who you are missing this Christmas.  For a second entry, please check out and like Metal Stamped Memories Facebook page and then come back here and let me know.  For a third entry, please visit Metal Stamped Memories website  and return here to tell me your favorite piece of jewelry or keepsake.  Giveaway for Day 12 will close December 13th at 10:00 PM CST.  Winners will be announced on December 14th.  

Thank you again for visiting...sending lots of love to you all during this holiday season.  May the love of your angels always grace you with peace and joy in your hearts.  ((hugs))

Another good-bye...

Today I said good-bye again.  But not in the way that many think of immediately in this baby loss world.  This time the good-bye was to a marriage.  My marriage to Kennedy's daddy.  Although in many ways I feel like today was more a formality than the actual ending since we haven't been together in over a year now; however, it closes out a journey...a chapter. 

Eleven years is a long chapter, so maybe it was a couple of chapters, but nevertheless, I was forced to turn the page.  We started this process around April of this year, and today, I was told that I was officially a "non-married" person.  Wow...non-married.  It sounds almost surreal, especially when I have spent the last five as a "married" person, and even before that, felt married for most of my relationship with Kennedy's father.  

High school sweethearts.  College sweethearts.  Engaged at a parade in front of our entire hometown.  Bucky Badger attended our wedding.  Grand marshals at the Magic Kingdom parade.  Parents to a much-wanted daughter. And yet, despite all the wonderful events and opportunities that life granted us, we didn't grow together.  Life happened and it changed us.  

I really never thought something like this would happen to me...but again, I didn't think that I would lose my only daughter two years ago either.  It's just hard to imagine where life is going to take me.  I do see happy times and a light at the end of the tunnel, yet today one is of those days where the sadness has completely made the world feel very dark again.  I even caught myself crying at work today in front of two of my co-workers.  This is not something that ever happens.  I tend to keep my emotions bottled up inside until I find a time to cry by myself or blog about it here.  But today kind of rocked me, despite the formality of it all.  Today gave me a sense of finality.  Closure.  Maybe the tears are of relief?  Yes, definitely of sadness, but maybe the tears came because I can finally come to terms with what happened.  So, I can start to finally concentrate on me and accept who I am and where life has taken me.  It's all still very much a mystery at this point, but I'm hoping that time will lead me to the answers.  

After leaving the courthouse and driving home, I knew I needed to stop and visit my baby girl.  Kennedy will always be a part of her father and me, and she is the one connection that will always bring us back together.  I can't tell you that if Kennedy had lived her father and I would be together today, but I do believe that we would have put her first.  So, today was my day to apologize to her for what happened.  See, I know Kennedy watches over both of us, so I also know that she has seen our sadness and pain.  I can't stand that.  I don't like anyone to ever feel sorry for me or to worry about me, much less my little girl.  That is not her job, nor is it fair to her to have to see her mother upset, angry and hurt.  She's just a baby.  If she was here on Earth those are all emotions that I would hide from her.  Now, she's up in Heaven away from me, and she sees everything.  That is so hard.  I wish so much that things could have been different between her father and I.  That we could have showed her how we could be happy and in love again.  But that was not "meant to be."  We tried.  And while we tried, we hurt even more. 

So much of my life was built around my marriage and all of our hopes and dreams for the future.  And we did have some of the same dreams, but now, I am forced to follow many of them on my own.  My one hope for both of us despite the distance is that we are able to stay in touch, remember the good times, be happy and always carry the love of our daughter deep in our hearts.  

25 Days of Giveaways Alert

So, I am totally trying to get back into blogging, especially with so many stressful events going on in my life, but before I do, I wanted to take the time to let everyone who reads my blog the opportunity to know about a fabulous event that will more than likely be taking place the entire month of December. It is called the 25 Days of Giveaways. This event was started by the beautiful and talented mother of Living Without Sophia and Ellie, Tina, two years ago after the loss of her twin girls. Tina is an amazing woman and mother to all of her children. She has an incredible talent of creating beautiful jewelry at Mama Mia Custom Stamped Jewelry. I personally own one of her custom-designed necklaces myself and it is one of my favorite pieces that I wear to honor Kennedy.

Anyways, back to the 25 Days of Giveaways.... Each day a blogger or two will host a day with some type of giveaway. It can be just about anything. For example, I have a wonderful friend who designs jewelry similar to Tina's, and I asked her to create a necklace for the event. Some bloggers offer giveaways directly related to the holidays or related to infant loss. It's up to you. If you are interested in hosting a day, please check out Tina's post located here. If you aren't interested in hosting a day but would love to check out the giveaways, Tina will be posting each day who is hosting. It will be up to you to keep up. In a holiday season that can often be quite difficult to get through while grieving the loss of your child/ren, this event is sure to put a smile on your face at some point. I not only won some things, but it introduced me to several different bloggers who have become my friends over the last year. Plus, there are some pretty talented people out there who create unique things for this community and for others.

Thank you for taking the time to read this post. I look forward to hosting one of the days for this event and helping whoever I can, including myself, get through some difficult times. Hang in there and know that we can get through this together. ((hugs))

Happy 2nd birthday in Heaven, sweet baby girl.

Today marks two years since my little girl grew her angel wings...  October 22nd marks the day that I was told that my daughter no longer had a heartbeat.  That she had left this Earth to enter another place.  I cannot even fathom that it has been that long now.  Where has the time gone?

It has been so long since I have written on here that I hardly know what to write anymore.  Yet, this is the place I have come to remember her.  To share her.  I may post something on Facebook, but this feels more secure.  Private.  Privileged.  I have shared Kennedy's story with so many, yet this is very much the place and world where I felt the most secure in doing so.  She was readily accepted as was I.  Here is where I continue to feel that her presence will be remembered.  Facebook is a place where people in my life who continue to wonder why I have not "moved on" will question why I would post a birthday remembrance for my dead baby still after all this time.  The scrutiny is enough for me to want to hide.  I just don't know....

I continue to feel some acceptance and love these days following the event that was planned for all babies gone too soon.  The idea came from my sweet little girl.  Without her, I would not have ever thought to plan such an event for the Madison area.  She is the reason for the celebration of life.  The gift of a child no matter how small was embraced and remembered.  Kennedy's life provided others the opportunity to talk and share about their babies.  What a gift she truly was and is.  She not only changed my life in more ways than I ever imagined, but she also has changed the lives of others.  The impact this little girl will have in the future is endless.  

As I sit and write, I think about what it would be like for me to be planning a 2nd birthday for a little girl.  Would it have been a family party?  Or would there be little friends for her too?  What would she wear?  What theme would the party be?  Would she smile and giggle with everyone around her or would she be shy with all the attention?  Would she jump right in to eat birthday cake or would her dainty little fingers never touch it at all?  Would my little girl want baby dolls or trucks and cars?  What music would we dance to?  How many fingers would she hold up?  How many changes of clothes would there be?  Those are my questions.  My dreams.  My fantasies.  It doesn't matter how any of those questions would have been answered....the important thing would be that they would be answered.  Because it would mean that she was here.  Alive.  With me.  Instead, I can only hope that this party is just as I imagined it to be...only in a different place.  A far better place than here, but without me.  I hope she is giggling in a frilly pink dress with pink ribbons in her hair with family and friends all around her.  I would hope she would at least try the birthday cake with pink frosting and try to blow out her candles with the help of others.  Knowing my little girl, she would want a baby doll as a gift and would dance to any music that was playing.  My little girl would be happy and loved.  My little girl is happy and loved.  

So, Miss Kennedy Kate, I wish you the happiest birthday/heaven date of them all.  May this year in Heaven bring new surprises...new joys...and love to you always.  Your mommy wishes she was there with you to celebrate or even for you to be here, but there will be many birthdays to celebrate someday when we meet again.  You are my dream come true, Kennedy Kate.  I never imagined that I could love someone as much as I love you...but it's true, a mother's love is so different than any other kind of love.  You are my world.  My prized possession.  My gift.  Being away from you is the hardest thing I have ever had to endure.  I need you to continue to be happy, baby girl, and to always know how much you are loved and remembered.  You are my firstborn, KK...and you forever will hold a special place in my heart.  Give your Gr8ams a big hug and kiss from me.  

Love you to the moon and back, baby of mine.  

Your Life Vs. Mine

Seriously...I am waiting.  I keep waiting for the time when I can write a really good post.  A post about something or someone positive in my life.  And I should have that...  No, wait, I DO have that.  But why does it seem like the "Negative Nellies" in my life are the ones I write about?  Or spend time with?  One reason seems to be that I get so frustrated with certain people that it just leads me to vent...  And I really hate to use this space as venting, especially when there was a time that this place was sacred only to my sweet girl.  When all I wanted to do was talk about her and how I was dealing with the loss of her.  However, I guess the title of On KK's Butterfly Wings describes my life after the loss of her.  And this is my life now.  My life without her as I try to deal with people who frustrate me to the point of needing to write and share.  Okay, so now that I've found a reason to share this story again, here it is:

Before I officially start, this post has been changed for confidentiality reasons.  I may even think about eventually taking this post off of this blog, but for now, I will keep it as generic as I can. 

As we all know, we have some people in our lives who show support and love throughout anything we go through.  I think in the case of baby loss, we tend to lose more people than we thought was possible, but there are still those few who stick around.  I still find about 20 months later that I am bothered by those people who weren't able to support me when I needed them most of all.  And some of those people were family members of mine.  Close family members who were a part of very important events in my life. 

I have tried the philosophy of letting things go....and trying to find forgiveness for their lack of empathy.  I even try to forget those times.  But all it takes is lack of empathy again when it comes to my newest loss that leads me down that path of anger.  So, as of late, this is where I am again.  And the cause has been a comparison of someone else's life to mine. 

I hate to compare.  I think that I lived a life of comparison as a child.  I always wanted to be the best at everything.  The best athlete.  The best student.  The best looking.  Etc. Etc.  I wanted to be the girl who had it all.  However, I hung around a group of girls that always had all of those things.  And they were all better than me.  Or so I perceived.  Then, I went off to college and gained a little bit of self-confidence and self-esteem.  My group of friends was no longer based on what we played or how we looked, it was based on common interests or career choices.  However, I think there has always been self-esteem issues in the back of my head. They linger and cause me to worry a lot about what people think of me. 

So, when someone makes a comment that his/her life is harder than mine.  I immediately want to jump down his/her throat.  Not that I think differently or want to believe that my life is worse, but I don't want to compare.  To compare situations and emotions can lead to the judgment of character, self-esteem and self-confidence.  I don't want that.  I have learned, especially in the last couple of years, that we are all extremely different people and we handle situations that come our way the best way we know how.  We handle them based on previous experiences, where we are emotionally in our lives, and the types of support we have or reach out to.  I also truly believe that we are genetically programmed to handle situations a certain way.  And most of the time, this is different than the person sitting next to you.  So then, how can you compare? 

In my opinion, this person cannot and shouldn't.  He/She has not walked in my shoes.  And I have not walked in his/hers.  The only thing that I ask of him/her to do is to take the time to imagine what my life is like.  Walk in my shoes for just a minute before you choose to make a rash comment.  I promise you, I will think about yours.  But I will not compare. 

The other thing I will not do is wish my life on you in order for you to know what it has been like for me.  I would never wish my life on anyone else, although I do know that some people in this world have been through much more.  This is my life.  This is the life I have been given.  Some things have been in my control.  Others have not.  But I am doing my best to make the most of it.  I hope that you can make the most of yours too. 

There are days when I would like to tell this person in my life what I really feel.  How angry and hurt I am.  Obviously, this has been boiling up for awhile.  There have been events in my life that have led to this hurt, let-down feeling with this particular person, especially early on after my loss of Kennedy.  An event in which he/she never took the time to support me.  Or mention word of my baby.  He/She still hasn't.  It's like my baby never existed in his/her life.  And obviously this behavior still haunts me, but like I said before, I always continue to work on letting things go.  I guess my mission now is to try to forget that he/she made this comparison.  And to support this person the best I can despite the ache I feel that he/she doesn't know to be there for me. 

I know that this is what Kennedy would want and do.  This is the way I would teach her.  This is the way she is being taught by watching me, listening to my words and spending time with my Grams.  My Kennedy would know and understand empathy and forgiveness.  She would know how to accept others for their differences.  I will do this in her memory.  I will do this for her. 

Someone Else's Shoes

Warning: I'm not sure how many of you were able to catch the Monday, June 6th, episode of The Secret Life of the American Teenager, but if you weren't and would like to before reading this post, don't read any further.  Spoilers do follow in the post below. Just wanted to give a heads up....


Since losing Kennedy, I find that I reflect a lot on my life and what it is like now in comparison to what it was before.  But the reflection is a lot about my life, not really on anyone else's life.  Which is very interesting to me, since I have never really thought myself to be an egotistical kind of person.  I have always considered myself to be someone who thought about others before herself.  I have always wanted to please and help those close to me before I would ever do something to better my life. 

However, after watching Secret Life the other day, I realize that I do think of myself a lot more.  I protect myself.  I am wary of my emotions.  I find that maybe I am more in tune to my feelings than I ever have been before.  I don't want to hurt or get hurt anymore.  So, I guess I am somewhat egotistical.  But it's because of what I have been through.  Or what I am still going through.

Yet, on Monday, I was reminded how many other people have or had been effected by the loss of Kennedy.  I think I sometimes forget this.  I think I forget this because I feel so much pain that it's hard to feel anything else for anyone else, especially those that haven't experienced the loss at the severity that I have.  But, the show gave me a different perspective.  It opened up my eyes to what it might have been like for others in my life.  People who really care for me.   All of a sudden, I stepped into their shoes that day when I lost Kennedy. 

First, I see Kennedy's father.  And because our relationship is strained right now, this is more difficult for me to write about.  However, I see him that day.  He knew right away.  Just the way Ben did.  When we didn't see a heartbeat and they couldn't tell us the sex of the baby, Kennedy's father knew something was terribly wrong.  Yet, he said nothing.  He is heartbroken and sad.  He has tears rolling down his face as he starts calling everyone.  First his mom.  Then his work.  Telling them what has happened.  I can talk to no one.  I am stunned.  He calls everyone.  He wants people to know.  He finds comfort in talking to others.  Yet, we never find comfort in each other. 

Next, I see my mom. She's devastated.  She also calls people and finds out that she has lost her Great Uncle that day too.  She can't believe all this is happening.  She sees me hurting, yet doesn't know what to do to make it better.  She cries with me and sleeps on the floor by the couch where I sleep in hopes that she can comfort me on my sleepless nights.  She wants to put a Band-Aid on the situation.  But she can't.  She looks and feels hopeless.


Now, we pan to my dad.  He's always been the strong one.  He's hurt.  He's angry.  He doesn't know what to do.  Yet, he wants everything to go away.  He wants me to not feel pain anymore.  He is the one who helps me decide what would be the best decision when delivering this baby.  He wants me to be able to move on quickly.  Yet, he doesn't cry.  He doesn't ever express any emotion openly.  That's not his role.  He's supposed to be the even keel one.  Yet, he knows I will never be the same.  I will never be the same little girl he once knew.

Finally, the camera turns to my friends and family.  The friends and family who so anxiously awaited the news of what the baby's sex would be that day.  In comparison to Secret Life, my friends and family were waiting to find out if they would be purchasing blue or pink gifts instead of the the arrival of a baby.  They were the friends and family who were texting or Facebook'ing me making sure they were on the list to contact regarding what we would find out that day.  Instead, what they found out was that the baby hadn't lived.  I see their reactions.  I see tears.  I feel their sadness.  I see them contacting others with the news.  There is a shock amongst them.  They don't know what to do.  They comfort each other and find comfort in others by sharing my story.  The day and week is filled with sadness.  Some reach out by phone, email, text.  Some send cards and gifts.  Others are lost as what to do and may not reach out at all.


As I step out of all their shoes and put mine back on.  I am back in my reality.  Yet, it has given me a new outlook.  A different perspective.  Others were effected by her death.  Others who may not have really known Kennedy, but who knew and loved me.  It's not an easy situation.  I get this.  Death is not easy to begin with, much less the death of a child.  But it's helps me to imagine what it might have been like for others.  Especially those who were there then for me and continue to be there for me today.  They know what they felt like that day. They felt pain too.  The pain may be more for me than for my baby.  Most didn't know her like I did.  Yet, it is pain.  In some ways, the day I lost Kennedy is the day a part of me died with her.  My friends and family will never know me again the way I was before. 

If you haven't ever heard or read the poem, Ugly Shoes, here is my post with the poem.  The reason I am sharing this poem again is because I know how our ugly shoes fit all the time.  But there are other shoes too.  Shoes of those who have been there for us.  Shoes of the people who continue to share this journey without our babies.  Those shoes are often not fun either.  They hurt too.  And they hate that they have to wear these shoes because of what they represent.  The shoes they wear are different than mine.  They will never be the same.  Yet, there are people....even though it may be a smaller number than I have wanted....who wear similar ugly shoes to mine.  I am grateful for that select group.  I know that those are the people who can go through anything with me from here on out and will be there through the long haul.  I hate that we have to wear ugly shoes at all...literally and figuratively, but the people in my life that I have right now... the ones who are truly there....are amazing, loving people.  I couldn't ask for a better group.  I truly couldn't.  I am blessed to have their continued love and support.  I know it's not easy wearing their shoes either, but I am thankful that they do. 

Right Where I Am Project: 1 year, 7 months

Thanks to the beautiful and inspiring, Angie, at Still Life with Circles, I decided to participate in this project. Angie's idea is to discuss where you are now in the grief process and what it feels like now. It is to help new babyloss members to understand and see the road that grief can take you on and for others who are further along in the process to see how far they have come.


Where am I: Currently located on my couch in my apartment in Madison sharing my innermost thoughts on my blog. Contemplating how my life got to this point....and the effect that Kennedy had on it all. Enjoying the Brewers game on television. Making plans for the summer. Wondering what I should wear tomorrow.

Seems like a simple life. Seems even easy. Sounds like things are going "ok." Looking at those thoughts, I would never have believed a year and seven months have passed from one of the saddest and most traumatic times in my life. I don't even think that the average reader who would just randomly come across my blog would look at this post and think that anything is even wrong. But that's the "random" reader's thoughts. Little do they know the process that it has taken to get to the simplicity of life again. Little would they know how dramatically different my life was then.

But that's pretty much the way life is now. In about one in every five thoughts, my mind goes back to Kennedy. My heart takes me to that day and the weight of what I don't have creeps back in to send me a wave of sadness. I do have happiness. I do feel enjoyment. I smile. I laugh. I find a way to go on. But it's not without those thoughts. And the pain.

All it may take is a mention of a little boy that was killed on my favorite soap opera, see yet another person on Facebook is pregnant, or see the mention of the word "mother" in my favorite Harry Potter novel to make me feel an ache. Those are the times that thinking of Kennedy brings me pain. But that's not always where I am now. I have happy thoughts of her too. Times where I can imagine this beautiful girl with curly light brown hair and blue eyes in a pretty pink dress decorated with butterflies taking her first steps or giggling at a silly song. She is sassy. She's sweet. She's the "Princess of the Show." And she's happy. These are the times that make me smile. Those thoughts make me remember her for all of her beautiful qualities that she offers Heaven today.

I am still working on what it's like to "parent" her here on Earth. I'm still trying to find that happy medium of what society views as "ok" and just figuring out what's "ok" in my heart. I find that I question myself all the time if I talk about her too much or if I do too much to help myself with this grieving thing. I have had numerous loved ones in my life comment that I should be "moved on" by now. Questions seem to have the same common idea of: "Why am I not okay by now? " and "Why can't I just accept that this is my life?". I find that I'm more likely to not answer them or answer with the basic, "I'm fine." Which I am...I'm fine. I'm as fine as I think I will ever be. My daughter is gone. She's not coming back. So, in order to continue to be "fine," I look for ways to incorporate her into my life. I continue to wear her bracelet and ring. I change my necklaces that memorialize her as I see fit. I wear butterflies and chickadees. I look for butterflies and buy bird feed for chickadees. I have her little "korner." I go to two monthly support groups where I can talk about her for more than an hour. I am starting a Memory Walk for her and other babies. And as always, I visit where Kennedy was laid to rest and talk to her.

This is where I am. I am "ok." I am fine. I am blessed. I am a mother. And I am happier than I was that day. I am happier than I was a year ago...six months ago....two weeks ago. The pain still hurts but doesn't happen as often. I have found ways to go on. I carry my grief with me everyday, but I also carry the knowledge that I will be with my little girl again. It's one of those beautiful "happy" thoughts again. Kennedy is waiting for me. She's watching me now. She's taking note of where her mommy is and what I am doing. I can't wait to tell her about all the wonderful things in my life that happened because of her. What a long, amazing mother-daughter moment that will be.

Who would have "thunk" it?!!

Today marks a big day in my life....a day that I truly never thought would come. A day that wouldn't have come had Kennedy not been a part of my life. It could be viewed as a joyous event...yet sad given the reason behind it. But it's still an anniversary no matter how you look at it. It's been a year. One year since I started this blog. 92 posts and 120 followers later....and I'm still here. I'm still writing. I'm still reading. I'm still commenting. I'm still grieving.

I never, ever would have thought in a million years that I would become a part of the blogging community. But then again, I never thought I would become a part of the baby loss community. When I sat down to write 365 days ago, I did not know what my intentions would be. All I knew is that I wanted to write. I wanted to share what I was feeling somewhere. I didn't know who would read or what comments would come out of it. But I knew it was something I had to do....just like support group or grief counseling was something I had to do. Since then, I have shared more here than I have shared with many that have been part of my "real life" for the past 29 years. This has been my sanctuary. My place to just pour my heart out and know it's okay. It's been my place to grieve for my little girl and to not be judged that it's time to "move on." I have been given affirmation of "no timeline," "no expectations," and "no judgment." I have been supported and loved. I am viewed as a mother.

My beautiful daughter, Kennedy, has been remembered. She has been thought of, prayed for, and celebrated. When her name is said or seen she is recognized as a human life. A little girl. A daughter. A child. I cannot begin to thank you enough for that. As I wrote to a fellow BLM a few days ago, just the thought of someone saying her name or thinking of her, means more to me than any gift or prize. My daughter is "realer" to me when I can share her with all of you.

I am amazed at what you all have given me. Without this blog, I wouldn't have been motivated to start my own Face2Face social group. Or be in the process of starting "A Walk to Remember" in Madison in October. I wouldn't have people who live "literally" all over the world who I would call my friends. Friends who I feel closer to than some of my "IRL" friends that I have had for years. It has been a year of growth. A year of progress. A year of change. And a year of hope. Thank you for your friendship, your tears, your words, and your hope. I am who I am today because of Kennedy. But I am also who I am today because of you.

I would really like to do a giveaway of some sort in honor of this day...but since it has kind of caught me off guard, I'm not ready to do so just yet. Please check back throughout this week as I gather my thoughts to think of an appropriate giveaway given the celebration. Sending much love and hugs to you all always....

Alissa

A letdown...

Hello my dear blogging friends,

It's been awhile...and again, I know that I owe some giveaway prizes, so the winners will be announced either tonight still or tomorrow. But I had to write tonight because there's been a lot on my mind, and I finally have some time to get it all out. As most of you know, I have been dealing with the illness of my grandmother. Well, the illness has been deemed terminal, and as of last week, my "Grams", has gone to live at my aunt's house with the intention that she will never go home again. The doctors said they could do no more for her, and it's up to her family and Hospice to care for her needs whatever they may be. The objective now is to make her life bearable...and pain free....and enjoyable the best we can. As many of you probably know, this is a very difficult task for anyone. My Grams is an extremely independent and strong-willed person. This is not the kind of life she wants for herself, nor does she want this for any of the people she loves most in the world. She hates the idea of being a burden. See, my Grams tells her family that she is scared. But what most of my family members don't understand is that my Grams is most scared of leaving behind a "mess" or bringing sadness to her family. She loves us all so much....just as we all love our children. She hates the idea of bringing pain to any of us. Yet she realizes that her leaving will bring us pain, even if only for a little while. So, she is scared for us. She's not scared for herself. My Grams knows where she will go next and with whom she will be with. My Grams will go to Heaven. She will be with her parents, her nephew, her baby brother, her very own babies, and my sweet Kennedy. She sees all the positives of what Heaven will be like for her. But yet....right now, that's not where she is. Right now, my Grams suffers. My Grams is in pain. My Grams is sad. And there is so little I can do for her.

This leads into the next part of my post....the letdown. As I sat by her bedside on Thursday, I told my Grams how much I love her. I told her how much I am like her. And my Grams looked at me and said, "Oh, Alissa, I wish I was more like you. " Here she was again, putting me first. She had looked at me with tears in her eyes...and constant pain...and put me on that pedestal. And all I could do is thank her and squeeze her hand. I can't do anything more. I can only be there....and do what I can to make this situation easier. But it's not easy....and there's such a feeling of letdown. Because as I watch my Grams potentially dying, I know that she never had the opportunity to hold her great-granddaughter on Earth. We'll never have the chance to have a 4 generations picture. Or spend holidays together.

When I lost Kennedy, I lost all of those opportunities. I wanted so much to give my "6" grandparents a great-grandchild that they could spend time with....love....watch grow up for as long as they were around. They all wanted that too. Because Kennedy didn't make it....and now for other reasons...they may never have that chance. It's a terrible feeling. All I could think about on Thursday is how much joy Kennedy would have brought to my Grams as she laid in bed that day. Kennedy may have been walking...babbling....etc. I can imagine her smiling and touching my Grams hand. Maybe even Grams would hold her hand. And I know....and hope to know that Grams and Kennedy will be together sooner than I will ever be with my little girl. But in times like Thursday...and in the days ahead...there is nothing I can give my Grams that could top anything that my daughter could have given her. I know that, which makes it extremely hard to deal with the overwhelming sense of being a letdown to those I love most. I do know that there is nothing I could do about the loss of Kennedy....but it is still one of those situations that hits you where and when you hurt the most.

Thank you, my friends

"You were the one who made things different, you were the one who took me in. You were the one thing I could count on, above all, you were my friend."
- Tom Petty

This morning, the day after I wrote one of my most honest posts, I woke up to some beautiful and heartfelt comments from my lovely friends. And to my surprise, 100 followers. First off, I want to tell you that the goal of my blog was never to reach 100 people....my goal of this blog was to find people I could connect with who had been through a similar experience. I needed an outlet to share with others how I was feeling...how I was grieving...and how was I dealing. I needed people to tell me that things were going to be "ok." Even that "ok" was a "good-enough" kind of feeling. That's what my goal was. And it has been accomplished in so many ways and more.

This blog has allowed me to share something that many in my real life never really got to know....my daughter, Kennedy. I can talk about Kennedy and share the love I hold in my heart for her more openly here, with my grief counselor or in my support groups than I can with anyone else in my life. Yet, unlike my grief counselor or support group, there is no time limit. I can write whenever I want for as long as I want. And, more than likely, someone will listen (read) and respond.

This blog has also allowed me to "find myself" in a variety of different ways. I have always loved to write....but I really didn't do much of it until now. And every time I write, I can write about the one person that means most to me, my daughter. What a gift that is. I feel like I can be more open....and honest here. I can talk to people who truly get me for me. There are no comments of "When will the old Alissa be back?" or "Why is she so different?" from any of you. You take me as I am. And I truly am blessed because of that.

So, to my 100 followers, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I only wish that I could thank you all personally...with a "real" hug or gift. I am so amazed at your generosity, your support, and your love, that sometimes it brings me to tears that you are all a part of my life. Kennedy gave you to me. And as always, I am indebted to her in all she has given to me in the short time she was on Earth. But I am also indebted to you. I hope that I can be as supportive of you all on your journeys as you have been to me. In the next week, I hope to be holding a giveaway in honor of my 100 followers. Still working on the details of that, though. Thank you again, my friends. Sending my love to you always.

"I'll lean on you and you lean on me and we'll be okay."
- Dave Matthews Band

"Lean on me, when you're not strong, and I'll be your friend, I'll help you carry on, for it won't be long, 'til I'm going to need somebody to lean on."
- "Lean On Me"

That's what friends are supposed to do

My obsession with Bruno Mars continues....This time it's related to friendships and how the people in your life should or typically would stick by you through the toughest of times. Wishing this was the case for those of us that have had the misfortune of losing not only a baby but friendships/relationships that we thought would last a lifetime. However, I want it to be known (just in case I someday decide to share this blog with my IRL friends), that THERE ARE people in my life that have been there and continue to be there for me today.

They are the people who continue to make an effort to call despite the lack of callbacks. They are the people who continue to invite me to events despite my lack of accepting the offer. They are the people who reach out just to send an email saying they are thinking of me today. I am blessed to have these kinds of people in my life. They are what I call "true" friends. The friends that will stick by me through the good times and bad. The friends that understand what I need and will respect that of me.

I know that this can be very difficult...and I understand that people really don't know what to do or what to say. But, what's really different about a friend losing a job and just stating that if they need anything, you'll be there for them. And then when you see or talk to that person again, you ask them how things are going. How is that different than our situations? They both seem like difficult topics to talk about. They both have pretty sad endings...but offer hope for new beginnings. Guess it seems easier to me than maybe it really is? But maybe that's what makes our situation so much more difficult than any other form of grief?

We, as baby loss families, have dealt with the worse...and we know how to handle just about anything that comes our way. We understand how to be there for other people who are suffering a similar loss or painful situation. We know what we would want...and what people did for us. Or what people didn't do. It is a lot about the education, I guess. Teaching people what we feel, how we feel, and what they can do to help us feel better. And then having people realize that what we have taught them can pretty much apply to many "heartbreaking" situations. Doesn't really seem fair that this is our job? I know I really don't need to add anything more to my plate. But in honor of my daughter, I feel like I must. It's my duty as her mom to help others understand what my needs are, so that they may truly know what to do if this should ever happen again.

What is key to the education of others is that they must be willing. A person must want to understand. They must care so much about you and value your friendship, that they want to hear about you, your child and how you are dealing with it. Again, I really believe that those are your "true" friends. My "true" friends don't cringe when I bring up my pregnancy. Or Kennedy's name. Her heaven date. Support group. Blog. Etc. They listen. They want to know more. They get excited for me thinking about the idea of a walk in October. Or when I have something new on to honor her. Or they just simply ask "how are you?" with the full intention of wanting to know how I am dealing with the loss of my daughter. And these friends do this because they truly understand what friends are supposed to do.

Count on Me
Bruno Mars

If you ever find yourself stuck in the middle of the sea
I'll sail the world to find you
If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see
I'll be the light to guide you

Find out what we're made of
When we are called to help our friends in need

You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do, oh yeah, ooh, ooh

If you toss and you turn and you just can't fall asleep
I'll sing a song beside you
And if you ever forget how much you really mean to me
Everyday I will remind you

Find out what we're made of
When we are called to help our friends in need

You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do, oh yeah, ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah

You'll always have my shoulder when you cry
I'll never let go, never say goodbye

You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do, oh yeah, ooh, ooh

You can count on me 'cause I can count on you

Being me

I have been meaning to start this post awhile ago...especially around the time that my life kind of went into a tailspin (about a month ago), but here it is, November 28th and I'm ready to write it down.

Do any of you ever feel like you just can't be "you" anymore? I mean...we talk so much about making a life out of our "new normal," but I still find that I can't truly be "me" as the "new me" with most people. I find that people want me to be the same girl/woman. The girl/woman before I lost Kennedy. Before my marriage started going really bad. Before people weren't sympathetic or empathetic to my situation. Most just think I can go back to being that person. A year later...and I'm still amazed at the pressure to be "okay" and back to the "old me."

But I find that I really only feel like "me" when I'm with people who truly understand what I have been through. And that's people who read my blog. People who I have met through my bereavement support group. And my counselor. There are so few people that "get me." Those are the people who really listen and really support me. They have been through it and are working to know who they are too.

I think this has been very difficult for me to deal with since I pride myself on having so many wonderful friends and family. And I still really do have wonderful friends and family. But most don't understand how I am doing...and really just want me to be "better." These are the same family and friends who would rather just forget that Kennedy even existed than mentioning her name. In the past 6 months, I have been working on spending more time with my friends and getting back into the "swing" of things again, but I still find it difficult when Kennedy is never far from my mind. How do I take part in small talk or minor problems when I am still dealing with all of the "major" stuff in my life? I hope this doesn't sound selfish...but I realize that it might.

There are days that I just wish I could take part in "small talk" conversation and realize that this is just "normal." I wish that talk about "Dancing with the Stars" would come as easy as it used to....but it doesn't. I wonder if it ever will.... But maybe that's just me being me now. Maybe I'm such a "deep" person due to my situations that the small talk of everyday life just doesn't interest me anymore. I have no idea...but I do wish I had some answers. I wish I knew how to be me with everyone. I wish everyone would just accept me for who I am now.

By the way, my dear BLMs, one of my wonderful friends, Melissa, who completely accepts me for who I am now is having a giveaway on her blog, Amazing Mikayla Grace, in honor of her 50th post. The prizes are amazing!! Good luck!

Miles of Hope for Moms that Mourn

It's been awhile since I've been on here...and I have definitely been missing writing and reading fellow BLM's insights and good well wishes. I have been needing it with a desperation incredibly deep the last couple of weeks. I have taken a turn....and it's been a turn for the worse. I have allowed myself to put up a strong facade the last couple of weeks as I try to rejoice in the birth of one of my best friend's babies and as another shared that she was pregnant with her first. I have also had to put on a strong face through the loss of one of my friend's sisters these past two weeks as I want so much to be there for her. It's been a very trying couple of weeks. And, of course, I continue to ache and grieve for the little girl that I will never hold or care for. I feel overwhelmed by my sadness lately....and I realize that it's just a part of the wave/rollercoaster, but it's been very hard to function.

However, I have had one thing that I have been looking forward to and that is the Miles of Hope for Moms that Mourn walk that will take place tomorrow. One of my co-workers (the one that made Kennedy's hope chest) found this walk on her runner's world and sent it to me right away. We have only known about the walk for the past week and a half, but I was able to get some people together to do it in honor of Kennedy. I am excited that some fellow BLMs from support group will be joining me that day in our walk of remembrance and hope. Despite the fact that it is going to be quite chilly in Wisconsin, I am thrilled to have this opportunity and do it with people that love me and love Kennedy. I will take pictures and add them sometime this weekend or into next week. I am hoping that this walk gives me some renewed sense of hope and remembrance in a good way. I am in need of that right now.

Love to you all....

A giveaway in honor of Kennedy's heavenly birthday

In honor of Kennedy Kate's first heavenly birthday, I'm offering a giveaway to all of you wonderful baby loss mothers out there who have supported me throughout my journey of loss this past year. I could not have done this without you...and I'm so glad that I took the leap and wrote a blog. It's been extremely helpful....I feel supported....and loved. Please comment on this post if you would like to be included in the giveaway and spread the word to others if you think they would be interested.

As most of you know, I remember Kennedy by wearing and collecting things with butterflies. Each day, I make sure I have something butterfly on to symbolize the life of my little girl. She is always present in my heart...but by wearing butterflies, it makes her feel more present in a physical sense. Then, if people want to ask about the butterflies, I tell them about why I wear them which typically leads to a talk about my daughter. So, for Kennedy's giveaway, I felt it necessary to find something that had a butterfly with or on it. I came up with this specific figurine made by D. Antonia Truesdale at The Midnight Orange after Jessica from Too Beautiful For Earth sent me a touching card and postcard. It hit very close to home as it is very symbolic to the way I feel about my little girl. She is, and always will be, my beautiful butterfly. After writing an email to D. Antonia about Kennedy and her first angelversary, I knew that this was the perfect giveaway gift. The winner will have the opportunity to make choices on colors of wings, people, etc. So, please comment by the end of Friday, October 22nd (Kennedy's heaven date)...I look forward to giving this beautiful sculpture to someone who will appreciate it and hold it dear to their heart.

*As a side note, any of you BLMs that have unfortunately experienced more than one loss, I will be able to order a sculpture similar to this with up to as many babies as need to be added. I don't want to exclude anyone from this giveaway.*

*The winner will be notified via blog this weekend. Hugs to you all*

I'm so honored....

So, I'm thrilled to announce that I have been given my first blog award by the lovely Amanda from This Girl Will Never be the Same. I am so grateful to Amanda for keeping up with Kennedy's story...and her endearing comments.



Such an award is a real honor, and I really feel blessed to have Amanda and so many others in my life who support me and my journey. Thank you, Amanda, for thinking of me.

The rules according to Amanda's page are as follows:

1. accept the award. post it on your blog with the name of the person who has granted the award and his/her blog link.

2. pay it forward to 10 other bloggers that you have newly discovered.

3. contact those blog owners and let them know they have been chosen.

Here is the lovely award!!!

Here are my ten "pay it forwards." (As Amanda stated on her blog, please do not be offended. I tried to reach out to as many as I could). Please send the award on....((hugs))

1. Amazing Mikayla Grace
2. Loving Audrey
3. In Memory of Jacob
4. Carried Through Grief
5. Big Love, Big Acceptance-or so I say
6. Little Bird
7. Sami's Blog
8. The Avery Diaries
9. Missing Olivia
10. Footprints on Our Hearts

Please visit these amazing ladies and read their stories... they are truly inspiring.