Dear Hannah,
I haven't written in a while. My feelings, my grief, are all too complicated to put in to words. Daddy & I talk about it often though - and I have talked with other parents who have lost children, too. That has helped Daddy & I sort through our feelings. Feelings that not many will ever understand unless they have lost a child.
We miss you so much. We took Micah over to our friends house just down the road - and the little boy who is his age saw me and asked about the new baby. He was so sweet to talk about you, too. He asked, "Why did your baby girl have to go to heaven?" I smiled, and answered the best I could. He said, "I hope this baby doesn't have to go to heaven so soon!" I smiled again, and agreed with him. I loved being able to talk with him about you. It was precious! These friends of ours really stood by us through your life (and death)... they loved you - and the boys couldn't wait for you to come home so they could play baseball with you and Micah in the back yard.
I know that these boys -and Micah, too - are comforted in knowing how happy you are in heaven, and happy to know you aren't sick anymore. You are so loved, sweet girl.
Love, always your mama
*for those who may read this, please pray for Joe and I. We are two weeks away from delivery of another precious girl. Some anxiety has come up, flashbacks of Hannah's birth, mixed feelings of pure joy, excitement, but still grief mixed in. This new precious baby will never be able to replace Hannah, but it is another blessing, and another way to experience joy and happiness in this life. Please pray for us as we wade through all of the grief still, the joy, the excitement, the nervousness, and all the anticipation. God is still in control, He is still good... always will be. He knows and understands our complicated feelings. He knows our pain, He knows our joy. That is truly comforting. Thank you for praying.
Monday, March 12, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
One Year Ago Today
(our last time holding you...exactly one year ago today...see your precious hand held up there?)
One year ago today was the last day we held you in our arms. Do you remember this day? You were at peace in our arms....and you were ready to go to Heaven - you reassured us with that in your own little way. Up until the moment you took your last breath, you were able to squeeze our hands with your little hand. That was such a surprise to all of us because your hands were so swollen! You were truly a fighter all the way, baby girl. I thank you for all that you have taught us. You taught us how to love, you taught us how to live. You taught us how to never give up, to persevere, and to always trust God. After watching what you went through for 4 months on this earth, who could not be changed? We thank God for giving you to us... we thank God for all the miracles He did in your short life on this earth. While our hearts still ache from missing you, we thank God that you are now healed, and rejoice that you are free from all pain, and safe in His arms.
In honor of you, Daddy, Micah, and I will be leaving today - we're going away for the weekend to a city not far from here. We will fill the days with fun activities that Micah will enjoy, which I know you would be happy about, too. Aquariums, museums, playgrounds, and many other activities. You would love to see us all happy and having fun, so we knew this would be a perfect way to honor you.
Here is the link to your song again that we played at your funeral, "Hannah's Song" (Beautiful by MercyMe).
We love you and miss you so very much. Happy Heavenly Birthday....
Love,
Daddy, Mama, Micah, and your baby sister.
In honor of you, Daddy, Micah, and I will be leaving today - we're going away for the weekend to a city not far from here. We will fill the days with fun activities that Micah will enjoy, which I know you would be happy about, too. Aquariums, museums, playgrounds, and many other activities. You would love to see us all happy and having fun, so we knew this would be a perfect way to honor you.
Here is the link to your song again that we played at your funeral, "Hannah's Song" (Beautiful by MercyMe).
We love you and miss you so very much. Happy Heavenly Birthday....
Love,
Daddy, Mama, Micah, and your baby sister.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Piercing Words
Dear Hannah,
With the anniversary of your death approaching, I felt that it was even more fitting to join in a weekly blog feature where parents share about their experiences with losing precious children. This week we begin with sharing the first part of our journey - the day we found out something was wrong with the precious life inside of me.
Love,
Mama
----
Every expecting parents worst nightmare is getting the phone call with their concerned doctor on the other side saying those piercing words, "We found something quite concerning with your last ultrasound".
It was week 19 of our pregnancy, and we were beyond excited to go to the ultrasound. This was the moment we were to find out if we were carrying another boy, or a girl. Arriving at the clinic, we couldn't wait to get into the exam room. The technician began the scan, and we watched and waited. From our first pregnancy with our son, we knew some of what the technicians look for in the 19 week ultrasounds. This one kept zooming in on the umbilical cord. It was then that I knew something must be wrong. I thought briefly to myself, "There must only be two vessels in that cord instead of one". I quickly pushed that thought aside, and kept on trying to enjoy the ultrasound. The technician was quiet, patient, and took her time. She seemed to focus a lot on the heart and the umbilical cord. I tried not to think about that.
After we were done, my husband went back to his office, and I went home. I visited with the babysitter and saw her to the door. After I put my son down for a nap, I went to my room to lay down for a bit. My phone rang. It was my doctor. Not even an hour after our ultrasound, he was calling me. I picked up the phone and answered with a feeble "Hello". The doctor replied, "Erika, I just received the results from your ultrasound." The sound in his voice was enough to make me start crying already. "There are some very concerning things regarding the results that I need to tell you about...first, they only found two vessels in the cord - instead of the normal three." My instincts were correct. I badly wanted them to be wrong. He continued, "They also discovered a large cyst on the cord, as well as some unknown concerns about the heart." At that point, I began to weep. He heard the tears, and tried his best to console me by saying "It will be OK...this is no guarantee that something will be wrong, but we want to keep a very close watch on this baby - we will schedule you for regular high-risk ultrasound appointments and the Maternal Fetal Medicine Center. It will be OK." I thanked him for calling, dropped the phone, and just wept. I cried out to God, pounding the wall saying "Why me? Why... this only happens to others, but not me?!" The past few years I had come across a few blogs where mom's had documented their journeys with their babies that they lost. Hearing the words from the doctor that day sounded so familiar to the other stories I have read.
I called my husband immediately and told him the news. We both were in shock, but remained as calm as possible. We never gave up hope that the condition of this baby wouldn't be bad - just mild, and an "easy fix" once the baby is born. Little did we know, during that time, the little bit of positive outlook throughout our pregnancy would end up being our "calm before the storm".
Several weeks of long extensive appointments at the high-risk center just gave us more details about possible conditions of this baby. The only definite diagnosis we received was at 30 weeks when we found out she was a girl - who we named Hannah Joy. Secondly, she has an extremely unique chromosome condition - so unique that it is the only documented case of it in this world. As for knowing her outcome after she is born - the diagnosis did not help at all. Every bit of her health and condition was unknown. One high-risk doctor gave her a 70% chance of being completely healthy, 30% chance of having severe health issues. Again, we felt helpless. The unknowns were hard for us to take. We knew the only thing to do was to give it all over to God - put Hannah's life and well-being in God's hands. There was nothing we could do on our own but trust that God would care for her, and care for us along the way. We loved our daughter from the very beginning. God gave Hannah to us - and we knew we would love her and care for her all of the days of her life.
And that we did.
-----------------
To be continued next Monday when I will be writing about the waiting period...the time before Hannah entered this world.
With the anniversary of your death approaching, I felt that it was even more fitting to join in a weekly blog feature where parents share about their experiences with losing precious children. This week we begin with sharing the first part of our journey - the day we found out something was wrong with the precious life inside of me.
Love,
Mama
----
It was week 19 of our pregnancy, and we were beyond excited to go to the ultrasound. This was the moment we were to find out if we were carrying another boy, or a girl. Arriving at the clinic, we couldn't wait to get into the exam room. The technician began the scan, and we watched and waited. From our first pregnancy with our son, we knew some of what the technicians look for in the 19 week ultrasounds. This one kept zooming in on the umbilical cord. It was then that I knew something must be wrong. I thought briefly to myself, "There must only be two vessels in that cord instead of one". I quickly pushed that thought aside, and kept on trying to enjoy the ultrasound. The technician was quiet, patient, and took her time. She seemed to focus a lot on the heart and the umbilical cord. I tried not to think about that.
After we were done, my husband went back to his office, and I went home. I visited with the babysitter and saw her to the door. After I put my son down for a nap, I went to my room to lay down for a bit. My phone rang. It was my doctor. Not even an hour after our ultrasound, he was calling me. I picked up the phone and answered with a feeble "Hello". The doctor replied, "Erika, I just received the results from your ultrasound." The sound in his voice was enough to make me start crying already. "There are some very concerning things regarding the results that I need to tell you about...first, they only found two vessels in the cord - instead of the normal three." My instincts were correct. I badly wanted them to be wrong. He continued, "They also discovered a large cyst on the cord, as well as some unknown concerns about the heart." At that point, I began to weep. He heard the tears, and tried his best to console me by saying "It will be OK...this is no guarantee that something will be wrong, but we want to keep a very close watch on this baby - we will schedule you for regular high-risk ultrasound appointments and the Maternal Fetal Medicine Center. It will be OK." I thanked him for calling, dropped the phone, and just wept. I cried out to God, pounding the wall saying "Why me? Why... this only happens to others, but not me?!" The past few years I had come across a few blogs where mom's had documented their journeys with their babies that they lost. Hearing the words from the doctor that day sounded so familiar to the other stories I have read.
I called my husband immediately and told him the news. We both were in shock, but remained as calm as possible. We never gave up hope that the condition of this baby wouldn't be bad - just mild, and an "easy fix" once the baby is born. Little did we know, during that time, the little bit of positive outlook throughout our pregnancy would end up being our "calm before the storm".
Several weeks of long extensive appointments at the high-risk center just gave us more details about possible conditions of this baby. The only definite diagnosis we received was at 30 weeks when we found out she was a girl - who we named Hannah Joy. Secondly, she has an extremely unique chromosome condition - so unique that it is the only documented case of it in this world. As for knowing her outcome after she is born - the diagnosis did not help at all. Every bit of her health and condition was unknown. One high-risk doctor gave her a 70% chance of being completely healthy, 30% chance of having severe health issues. Again, we felt helpless. The unknowns were hard for us to take. We knew the only thing to do was to give it all over to God - put Hannah's life and well-being in God's hands. There was nothing we could do on our own but trust that God would care for her, and care for us along the way. We loved our daughter from the very beginning. God gave Hannah to us - and we knew we would love her and care for her all of the days of her life.
And that we did.
-----------------
To be continued next Monday when I will be writing about the waiting period...the time before Hannah entered this world.
Monday, December 26, 2011
Christmas
As we celebrated the birth of Jesus this year, another sweet baby was never far from our thoughts, either. We imagined you celebrating Jesus birthday with Him this year - how exciting that must have been for you!
Daddy and I falsely assumed the weekend of Christmas wouldn't be too hard this year... we thought it would be much easier than last year. Last year you were in the hospital, recovering from an emergency abdominal surgery that took place on Christmas Eve. We spent the evening with you there, and came to you as early as we could Christmas morning. Big brother didn't want to be separated from you either - we were so eager to see you. On Christmas Eve, I had your nurse play a CD for you continuously throughout the night, and all day Christmas day. It was Casting Crowns Christmas CD entitled "Peace on Earth". I couldn't have found a more peaceful, soothing music with such a powerful message. The music was nontraditional, but perfect for you, my girl. The nurse even liked it! This year at Christmas I could not get myself to listen to that CD. It just made me sad... maybe next year.
This year during the holidays, the tears didn't come until Christmas Eve. We were preparing for our celebrations, hanging our stockings, when I came across yours. As I was hanging yours, I had a full meltdown. The tears just came....and came....and just couldn't stop. It was a strange feeling to prepare for Christmas while missing one of our children here. The tears came often that day, and often throughout Christmas day as well. We had many moments of happiness, and joy, but I would not be honest if I didn't admit that we felt the void, the stinging pain of one of our own missing from our family. Thankfully, the extremely painful days are few and far in between. It hits us hard on holidays, your birthday, and all of the "firsts" that this first year after you went to be with Jesus. Hannah, amidst our happiness, joy, and even the tears...you are never far from our thoughts. All of your relatives remembered you on Christmas as well. Micah had a very exciting Christmas - you would've loved to see his beaming face. It was precious. After all of the festivities, on our way up to NJ to celebrate with more relatives, Grandma Rodgers, Auntie Zetta, Micah, Daddy and I visited the cemetery ("Hannah's Place"- as big brother calls it). All on his own, Micah went up to your picture on the headstone and rubbed it saying "Oh sweet Hanny"... just as he did when you were still with us, and he would visit you in the hospital. That made my heart so happy! He truly brings such joy to our lives, just as you did... God has truly blessed Daddy and I with amazing children.
(our attempt at a family Christmas picture last year! haha - goofy big brother of yours!)
Speaking of amazing children, you may already know this - but you will have baby sister arriving at the end of March. I know you would've wanted this for all of us... we are happy anticipating her arrival. Your brother and sister will always know who their sister Hannah was... you will always be a part of our family. We love you.
(you with your stocking that hung by your bed last year - we hung it up this year in memory of you!)
(Photo taken last year of you & Micah under the tree)
Daddy and I falsely assumed the weekend of Christmas wouldn't be too hard this year... we thought it would be much easier than last year. Last year you were in the hospital, recovering from an emergency abdominal surgery that took place on Christmas Eve. We spent the evening with you there, and came to you as early as we could Christmas morning. Big brother didn't want to be separated from you either - we were so eager to see you. On Christmas Eve, I had your nurse play a CD for you continuously throughout the night, and all day Christmas day. It was Casting Crowns Christmas CD entitled "Peace on Earth". I couldn't have found a more peaceful, soothing music with such a powerful message. The music was nontraditional, but perfect for you, my girl. The nurse even liked it! This year at Christmas I could not get myself to listen to that CD. It just made me sad... maybe next year.
(When I came to visit you this day - the day after Christmas, less than two days after your major abdominal surgery - you opened your eyes as soon as you heard me come in - you stared at me for awhile, listening to everything I said - that was probably the last time I had seen those beautiful eyes of yours as you began to slowly swell up so much after that day, that your eyes closed tightly - such a precious time)
Last year at Christmas we still had realistic hopes and dreams of bringing you home with us. You looked so beautiful, and fought so hard to recover from each hurdle. There were talks of "homecoming parties" in the planning for when you were discharged. But instead, you had the ultimate homecoming, 3 weeks after Christmas.This year during the holidays, the tears didn't come until Christmas Eve. We were preparing for our celebrations, hanging our stockings, when I came across yours. As I was hanging yours, I had a full meltdown. The tears just came....and came....and just couldn't stop. It was a strange feeling to prepare for Christmas while missing one of our children here. The tears came often that day, and often throughout Christmas day as well. We had many moments of happiness, and joy, but I would not be honest if I didn't admit that we felt the void, the stinging pain of one of our own missing from our family. Thankfully, the extremely painful days are few and far in between. It hits us hard on holidays, your birthday, and all of the "firsts" that this first year after you went to be with Jesus. Hannah, amidst our happiness, joy, and even the tears...you are never far from our thoughts. All of your relatives remembered you on Christmas as well. Micah had a very exciting Christmas - you would've loved to see his beaming face. It was precious. After all of the festivities, on our way up to NJ to celebrate with more relatives, Grandma Rodgers, Auntie Zetta, Micah, Daddy and I visited the cemetery ("Hannah's Place"- as big brother calls it). All on his own, Micah went up to your picture on the headstone and rubbed it saying "Oh sweet Hanny"... just as he did when you were still with us, and he would visit you in the hospital. That made my heart so happy! He truly brings such joy to our lives, just as you did... God has truly blessed Daddy and I with amazing children.
(our attempt at a family Christmas picture last year! haha - goofy big brother of yours!)
(you with your stocking that hung by your bed last year - we hung it up this year in memory of you!)
Sunday, November 27, 2011
Sweet Dreams
I realize it has been so long since I have written, or posted anything on this website. We certainly think about you every day. Thanksgiving was last week - a truly memorable week for us as we couldn't forget what had happened last year at this time. Two days before Thanksgiving last year, you had your major open-heart surgery!
(these pictures were taken with my phone)
You came through that so well, surprising all of the doctors and nurses with your amazing recovery from the procedure. Mama and Daddy were so proud of you. We spent Thanksgiving day at the hospital with you, and even ate dinner there. We wanted to be all together as a family, and didn't want to leave you behind! We had fun that day, though. Thinking about Christmas coming up makes us miss you even more...but you getting to spend Christmas with Jesus this year is precious - brings me joy to think about that. Your big brother still thanks God for you every time he prays...he always thanks God for "daddy, mama, Dunkin (the dog), and baby Hannah".
Last night I had a dream about you. I haven't had a dream about you in a long time. In this dream, Daddy and I went to the hospital to visit you - and you were the age you would be now - just over a year old. You looked so good! The nurse was carrying you around, you only had a few tubes hooked up to you, you were wide awake, strong, and looking right at me. I couldn't wait to hold you - but I woke up from my dream before I had the chance to get you in my arms. I love having dreams about you - it truly feels like I got to see you again. Such a comfort, sweet girl... such a comfort.
You will be a big sister by April 3rd of next year. I know you are already looking over this sweet baby growing inside of me... we are seeing the same doctors and specialists who saw us when we were pregnant with you. They all remember you, too. The doctor who delivered you was so happy to see me back in his office for this pregnancy. His entire office was excited to see us again. The doctor is sad that he never got the chance to have his picture taken with you. However, he had the great privilege to bring you into this world - we will forever be grateful for him.
We have another big appointment coming up this Wednesday to get a better look at how this baby is doing. I wonder if you will have a baby sister, or a baby brother? I had a dream that it was a boy. We will see...
Sweet dreams, baby girl. Mama loves you and misses you... but do know that as much as we all miss you and wish you were here in our arms, we are happy that you are safe in the arms of Jesus. No more pain, no more tears, no more suffering...
Last night I had a dream about you. I haven't had a dream about you in a long time. In this dream, Daddy and I went to the hospital to visit you - and you were the age you would be now - just over a year old. You looked so good! The nurse was carrying you around, you only had a few tubes hooked up to you, you were wide awake, strong, and looking right at me. I couldn't wait to hold you - but I woke up from my dream before I had the chance to get you in my arms. I love having dreams about you - it truly feels like I got to see you again. Such a comfort, sweet girl... such a comfort.
You will be a big sister by April 3rd of next year. I know you are already looking over this sweet baby growing inside of me... we are seeing the same doctors and specialists who saw us when we were pregnant with you. They all remember you, too. The doctor who delivered you was so happy to see me back in his office for this pregnancy. His entire office was excited to see us again. The doctor is sad that he never got the chance to have his picture taken with you. However, he had the great privilege to bring you into this world - we will forever be grateful for him.
We have another big appointment coming up this Wednesday to get a better look at how this baby is doing. I wonder if you will have a baby sister, or a baby brother? I had a dream that it was a boy. We will see...
Sweet dreams, baby girl. Mama loves you and misses you... but do know that as much as we all miss you and wish you were here in our arms, we are happy that you are safe in the arms of Jesus. No more pain, no more tears, no more suffering...
Thursday, September 22, 2011
Happy First Birthday, Sweet Baby Girl
One year ago today, at exactly 9:38 in the morning, you arrived into this world. You cried right away with a precious cry that sounded just like a baby lamb.
Mama's friend Sarah wrote some beautiful words to us, sent with a gift she made for us in your memory. I thought what better day to write it here than the day of your birth - when we are missing you even more. She wrote this as if it was your message to us... it made both your daddy and I weep. We could not have written it better - it was almost as if she knew you, sweet girl.
If She Could Tell You
If she could tell you, she would say she loves you and knows she is loved.
She would say how she loved holding your hand and feeling your warm loving touch.
She would say she was never more content and happy than in your arms.
She would say that she blew bubbles especially for her older brother to make him happy.
She would say how much she cherished the special story time with Daddy.
If she could tell you, she would say how much she loved
the gifts and stuffed animals everyone gave her.
She would say how sweet your kisses were on her forehead
She would say how she couldn't wait to see you and hear your voice and hold your hand.
She would say how you made everything bearable
If she could tell you, she would say that she felt great love as God lifted her up.
She would tell you that she is full of joy and peace, perfected in His presence.
If she could tell you, she would say that she is still holding your hand.
If she could tell you, she would say you will see her again soon.
If she could tell you, she would say God holds you with His hand
and has promised to be your comfort and strength forever.
She would say how she loved holding your hand and feeling your warm loving touch.
She would say she was never more content and happy than in your arms.
She would say that she blew bubbles especially for her older brother to make him happy.
She would say how much she cherished the special story time with Daddy.
If she could tell you, she would say how much she loved
the gifts and stuffed animals everyone gave her.
She would say how sweet your kisses were on her forehead
She would say how she couldn't wait to see you and hear your voice and hold your hand.
She would say how you made everything bearable
If she could tell you, she would say that she felt great love as God lifted her up.
She would tell you that she is full of joy and peace, perfected in His presence.
If she could tell you, she would say that she is still holding your hand.
If she could tell you, she would say you will see her again soon.
If she could tell you, she would say God holds you with His hand
and has promised to be your comfort and strength forever.
We love you so much, our precious Hannah Joy... happy first birthday...
Monday, September 19, 2011
Letter from Danielle and Lily
Dear Hannah,
We never met. In fact, I've never even met your family in person. But I know your sweet story because I know your mother online. See, I am also the mother of a miracle baby, a precious little girl fighting some big deal things. Her name is Lily. She was born four months before you were. She's spent months and months in the hospital, first in the NICU and then in the PICU. I think you know this already, because I think you two might be friends.
Lily doesn't speak, and she has only learned a little sign language. She's deaf... and I think it's because she can talk to angels. I see her in deep thought and think she's speaking over precious things with her angel friends, with you, Hannah, and other friends she has. She seems happy most of the time and never alone.
There is a song called Angel Lullaby from an LDS movie called My Turn On Earth. It's lyrics go like this:
You came from a land where all is light
to a world half day and a world half night.
To guide you by day, you have my love,
To guard you by night, your friends above.
(Chorus)
So sleep, sleep, till the darkness ends,
guarded by your angel friends.
So sleep, sleep, till the darkness ends,
guarded by your angel friends.
There's one stands softly by your bed
and another sits close with a hand on your head.
There's one at the window watching for the dawn,
and one waits to wake you when the night is gone.
We sing this to her some nights, even though she can't hear us. And one night, I realized... Lily has angel friends. You're there with her, you, and Bella, and Cora... and so many more.
We never knew you, but we love you. We are glad for the time you were here and sad that we didn't have the chance to meet you. You are loved here, and we will be celebrating the birthday of our angel friend for you later this month.
~ Danielle and Lily (click here to view Lily's facebook page)
We never met. In fact, I've never even met your family in person. But I know your sweet story because I know your mother online. See, I am also the mother of a miracle baby, a precious little girl fighting some big deal things. Her name is Lily. She was born four months before you were. She's spent months and months in the hospital, first in the NICU and then in the PICU. I think you know this already, because I think you two might be friends.
Lily doesn't speak, and she has only learned a little sign language. She's deaf... and I think it's because she can talk to angels. I see her in deep thought and think she's speaking over precious things with her angel friends, with you, Hannah, and other friends she has. She seems happy most of the time and never alone.
There is a song called Angel Lullaby from an LDS movie called My Turn On Earth. It's lyrics go like this:
You came from a land where all is light
to a world half day and a world half night.
To guide you by day, you have my love,
To guard you by night, your friends above.
(Chorus)
So sleep, sleep, till the darkness ends,
guarded by your angel friends.
So sleep, sleep, till the darkness ends,
guarded by your angel friends.
There's one stands softly by your bed
and another sits close with a hand on your head.
There's one at the window watching for the dawn,
and one waits to wake you when the night is gone.
We sing this to her some nights, even though she can't hear us. And one night, I realized... Lily has angel friends. You're there with her, you, and Bella, and Cora... and so many more.
We never knew you, but we love you. We are glad for the time you were here and sad that we didn't have the chance to meet you. You are loved here, and we will be celebrating the birthday of our angel friend for you later this month.
~ Danielle and Lily (click here to view Lily's facebook page)
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