Month: March 2015

Five Zurbrugg Strawberries

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The last couple weeks I’ve been working on a very important conference where I will be speaking about this past year. It has stirred up emotions and uncoverd things I had missed in the fog. In stirring emotions, I’ve been having days filled of joy from things I am grateful happened but also grieving intensely for things I wish would have gone differently. 

Yesterday, I felt overwhelmed by sadness. Overwhelmed by the love I have around me but missing my little eleven month olds love. I was sitting next to Nate as he was having dinner and said the following: “papa Eric, big boy Nene (referring to himself), mami Karla, baby Emme, baby Elea.” It instantly melted my heart and put a smile on my face. 
Who knew five strawberries could make you so happy. 
xoxo

My Circle of Love

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There is nothing like knowing that you are loved.

Yesterday I was surrounded by a very special group of women. Strong women. Women who have made these past 11 months a little more bearable through their actions.

In my experience, I have found that many people (a lot, actually) are very uncomfortable with death. They don’t know what to say or how to react around you. They want to comfort you but simply don’t know how. And this symptom seems to be heightened when it’s the death of a child. Somehow it feels worse. 
I remember early on being approached by a friend  who said the following to me: ” I don’t know what to say. Nothing I can say will make it better, in fact I may make you feel worse in trying to make you feel better. I want to talk about Emme with you. Is that something you want to do?” Her honesty hit home and her approach could not have been any better. She didn’t know what to say or do but wanted to comfort me. All I wanted to do then and now, is to acknowledge Emme, talk about her beauty and impact upon my life. I gave birth to my second child almost a year ago, she forever marked my life. 
These women loved me. They surrounded me with love and tried to bring rays of light when everything was overcast. They wrote me cards, sent me my favorite candy, hugged me, cooked for me, consoled me with silence when there was nothing else to do but cry. They continue to remember and mourn with me. They loved me for who I was before Emme and love me even more now for being Emme’s mother. 
As Emme’s first birthday approaches, they too remember with me and celebrate a short but memorable life. 
I thank God for surrounding me with the best friends anyone could ever ask for, and then sprinkling them with some extra golden glitter, to make them EXTRA special.
xoxo

A Part of Something

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Nathan loving on Emme
       When you lose a child, there are very few people who can understand your grief. The struggles of every day life that overwhelm a grieving parent are a lifelong journey. They never go away. Ever. And although every parents grief is different there is something about being together that no one will ever understand but a grieving parent. There are things you can say that no one would understand unless they have suffered and survived their child’s death. There is a comfort that your fellow grieving parent can provide you with, that frankly, no one else can. There is a connection so deep, (and believe me you don’t want to ever have to have this relationship) that you can’t even compare a life long friendship to a friendship you’ve only had for a couple months with a parent who has experienced a loss. 
                                                     

        Eric and I were blessed to find the MISS foundation the month Emme passed. We were guided to it by a friend. It became our salvation. A group no one wants to be part of (as our group leader always says) but we are happy to have when we need it, if ever. This group of parents showed us compassion, love and an open forum where no subject was off limits. We were all victims of the same thing, the loss of our beautiful children. 
                                                     

Our loss brings us together once a month, allowing us to cry and let our feelings be known, all while receiving comforting words of encouragement, that we too, will one day allow the sun rays to come through when our hearts are ready. That joy will pierce into our canvas when our hearts are ready. That we too, will enjoy life, once again. It will never be the same as it was before, with all the innocence we knew, but we wouldn’t want to know joy without our beautiful gems. We wouldn’t want to have been without them. Months, years, days…anything we had with them, was worth living. I would relive everything I have these past 11 months for those beautiful 8 days I was able to hold my Little Giant. 

                                                    
Grief is not linear, although almost every book out there would have you believe it is. It is NOT 5 simple stages. You don’t stop grieving once you reach the fifth stage. You may never feel the fifth stage! Grief is an individual road, with similarities, and all is acceptable, days, months, years past your loss. 
                                                     

I am grateful for my new family, even if they don’t know they are part of me now. There are many people who played a role and continue to do so in my healing, and although they don’t know it, I am grateful and bless their lives every day I am able to wake and take in a breathe of air. 
xoxo
                          In loving memory of Jackson, Alexandria, Sophia, Theo, Lily and Emme. 

When a Mexican Fiesta Cake Goes Wrong

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Emme’s maternity shoot

 My morning started off feeling heavy. I tossed all night without ever being able to get a good night sleep. I had no energy to get out of bed had it not been for Nate saying ” Let’s go sala (Spanish for living room) mami.” I have been feeling overwhelmed by everything and everyone. But it all comes down to one little person, my little Giant. Her absence has been heavier than ever. I can feel myself putting her in the white basket she left in. I can feel the loss of her touch as I snuggled her tightly one last time. I can feel the light weight of her body lying on my chest the last night she spent with me.

This morning as I was making my little prince his breakfast, Z comes around the corner and makes a simple request: Can I please find some time today to do some, not all, just some of the laundry. Simple right. I completely agree with you. However as the words came out of his mouth I imagined myself running away into a nice little cave, all while crying my eyes out. I responded with I will try my best with tears in my eyes, all while trying to understand why in the world doing laundry was flipping me out.

8 Golden days

Nate and I had errands to run all morning as we were hosting a surprise Mexican 25th Fiesta party for my little sister. As we went from store to store I felt worse and worse and worse. My mind kept escaping my body, wandering away with Emme. It took all the energy I had to bring myself into a peaceful place where I could focus on the present. I ran through my list of thankfulness and talked to my Father, trying to make myself realize how much worse it could be.

As I looked for the perfect birthday cake, my frustration grew as I was unable to find the right size and taste. As a solution Nate and I decided to make our own cake. We have baked tons of stuff but never a flan, especially for 20 people. As Nate and I boiled all the contents and slowly stirred away for 40 minutes, I began to wonder when it would come to a boil. It being my first time, I have no idea how long it would take to boil and while I thought I was paying attention (I was standing right in front of the pot stirring with Nate), the whole thing blew up in seconds and Flan flew EVERYWHERE! It took me 45 minutes to clean up the mess, all while Nate and I laughed.

This was my aha! moment. Something can be starring you right in the face but you will miss it if you aren’t in the present. My cake boiling over was the best thing that happened. We figured out how to salvage whatever was left and the birthday flan ended up being one of my best creations yet. My day turned around, all while giving me more work 🙂 Although it’s perfectly normal to be overwhelmed and saturate yourself in how you feel, I have to remember, as hard as it is, that there are great things happening around me but I will miss them if I’m not present. I may feel horrible now, and I can and should embrace it, but I should also allow the sun rays to pierce in.

Tia Dini blowing out her birthday candles

xoxo

11 Months Later

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As my little Emme’s first birthday approaches I find myself sitting in front of my computer figuring out the right wording for her birthday card. We have decided to send out cards in her memory. And although, to me, it is a beautiful way to have family and friends remember her on her birthday, it makes me extremely sad that that’s what I’m doing 30 days before her big first. 
I SHOULD be planning a ridiculously expensive tutu party with lots of pink and gold glitter. I should be stressing out about all the DIY Pinterest ideas I want to get done before the beginning of the month…so many should have beens and could have beens…instead I sit here with glassy eyes staring at a blank screen, with no words able to describe the enormous loss I deal with every day. 
Every night this past week I have imagined my little 11 month old, Emme, trying to give her first steps, as she is assisted by her big brother. I have imagined hearing the giggles of two of my children in my home. I have imagined everything so differently. 
I remember last Easter being the saddest time of my life. It was hard to smile and watch my little boy open his Easter basket without his sister. I had imagined the holiday so differently. Often times it has felt like Groundhog Day, everyday for the past 11 months. Looking back at pictures is difficult, especially the ones with smiles, because they were the most difficult to take. 
ELEVEN months. I can’t believe we have made it through 11 months. The year has gone by so slow and yet so fast. It’s bitter sweet. Time makes things feel different but I wouldn’t say it makes it better. It simply feels different. 
Needless to say, I think this month will be a bit harder than the last couple of months. But like the past 11 months, we will keep walking forward, loving deeper, and placing our lives in our Father’s hands. 
xoxo