No stranger to tragedy...

Haddie Bo Bo,

Our family is no stranger to tragedy.  It was 2011 and your Daddy and me were living in a two bedroom apartment in Holland.  I found out that I was pregnant and bought your Daddy a baby Detroit Tigers hat.  He didn't grasp the announcement at first he just said, "This hat is too small for me." We were so excited for what the future held we had purchased a child friendly SUV and put in an offer on a house.  We went to our first doctor's appointment at 10 weeks along.  The doctor did the check up and said everything looked good.  Now the part we were waiting for...listening to the heartbeat.  He tried to find it for a few minutes...nothing.  Not a big deal because the baby is so small that sometimes it's hard to find.  So he sent us down the hall for a an ultrasound.  It was so cool to see our little baby for the first time.  We could see very little arms and legs.  It was surreal I asked, "Is that really a baby?"  The ultrasound tech said, "Yes that is a baby, but unfortunately there is no heartbeat."  She immediately got up and walked out to get the doctor.  We both sat there stunned at what we just heard.  I just cried and cried and cried.  Because I was farther along I had to have a operation to remove the baby.  I have heard of miscarriages in the past and one of our good friends who is a doctor cautioned us about the odds.  You just don't think it will be you.  I still have the ultrasound picture on our refrigerator. 

I would say 3 months later we got a positive pregnancy test again.  We were cautiously optimistic when we called the doctor.  This time they had us come in at 7 weeks for an early ultrasound.  This time I was a little nervous but still excited.  The ultrasound tech said, "Sorry the baby has not developed."  A miscarriage again how is this happening.  

The third time was the charm and we ended up with sassy spicy,  Eloise.  The thing about miscarriages for me was that they stole the joy of pregnancy.  After the first one I was no longer full of joy when I found out I was pregnant, I was full of fear.  I was still full of fear after the first trimester when the odds of miscarriage drop substantially.  Even if I were to get pregnant again after successfully have two healthy babies I would still be fearful.  

This is how I feel about life after loosing you, Haddie.  I feel like my joy and blissful happiness has been stollen, and nothing will bring it completely back.  These couple days that we spent up north as a family were relaxing, fun at times, sad at others.  There were times we laughed and times we cried.  We talked about you often and said how much you would like the water.  Now I am that anxious mother that is constantly worried about their child's safety.  To be honest I don't like being away from Eloise at all. 

We took our first family picture together since you have been gone.  Compliments of our selfie stick, because your Daddy hates i


t when I ask strangers to take our picture.  We are smiling in the picture because that's what you are supposed to do right?  I know that you are always with us, Haddie.  But that's not good enough for me.  I don't really find that comforting yet, maybe I will someday.  I want you back where you belong with us in our family picture.  

Love you always and forever,

I do literally carry a little of you everywhere I go...

I don't remember you crying

Haddie Bo Bo,

I haven't dreamed of you yet in a way that I would like.  I did have one dream about you but it was a nightmare so I don't count that one.  I wonder what it would be like to see you in my dreams.  Would I like it because I miss you so much and it would be a gift to see you again?  Or would I hate it because it would just remind me of the fact that you are not here and I won't see you again in this lifetime.  Some days I am ok and I can function somewhat normally.  Other days I am just...well...pissed.  By what cruel design was I chosen to loose a child.  To live this life everyday remembering what could have been, what should have been.

I use to manage a independent senior community for 4 1/2 years and I remember speaking with a lady resident who had lost her daughter at a young age.  I remember thinking how sad that she has lived her whole life with out her daughter.  She told me that she doesn't like talking about it because it's too painful.  Even after 60 some years her pain was still very real and present.  I know can relate to her pain.  I know I will still hurt for you, still cry tears for you 60 years from now.  

You were born on August 4th, 2014 at 3:27am.  That day I spent with your Aunt Emily and Uncle Aaron and their brood of Brown kids.  I swam in the pool with your sister and we ate Jet's Pizza.

This is a picture from that day

As I was sitting on the bar stool in our kitchen I had notice some contractions starting.  They weren't anything to take note of at the time.  They continued through out our evening coming about every 10 minutes.  The Brown's offered to take Elo home with them just incase.  I declined because they weren't very strong and I thought they might go away.  We put Elo to bed, your Daddy went to take his nightly bath, and I went to lie down and watch some TV.  Laying in bed my contractions started to become stronger and were now coming every 7 minutes.  I called the doctor to get their opinion on what I should do.  We live about 45 minutes from the hospital, and because it only took 12 hours to have Eloise, they thought I should make my way towards the hospital.  So we dropped Eloise off at the Brown's and headed to Grand Rapids.  When we got there I was only dilated to a 3 and they told me to walk around the hospital for and hour to see if I make any progress.  As we were walking around the hospital my contractions were coming every 3 minutes and they were painful, I was bending over grabbing the handrails in the hallways.  It was late so it was like a ghost town in the hospital.  As I was walking I farted, it surprised me, and grabbed my bum.  I turned around to look and of course the only two other people in the hospital that night happened to be right behind me.  They laughed, and your Daddy and I laughed, and kept walking.  After an hour they checked me again and I was now a 5 and in quite a bit of pain.  They asked me if I would like anything for the pain.  I said I would like an epidural, because I knew it took sometime for them to bring it.   They told me I couldn't have it until I was admitted upstairs. So why did they ask, I do not know.  I labored for another hour in triage, and I was now dilated to an 8 and asking for the epidural.  They told me they were really busy upstairs and they would bring me up as soon as possible.  At this point the contractions were so very painful and I was rolling around in my not so comfortable bed.  FINALLY,  after what seemed like hours, they came with the wheelchair to bring me upstairs.  I felt like I had to poop which is a sign that I was ready to push.  I went to the bathroom and pooped and the nurse was so worried that I pushed you out into the toilet that she came running into the bathroom.  I was able to get my epidural, and I thought great I can get some rest before I have to push.  As soon as I got the epidural they checked me again and I was a 10 and ready to push.  So much for resting!  I only pushed twice and I grabbed you and put you on my chest.

I don't remember you crying.  I think you were just content to have me hold you.  Which now I know is just your personality.  You looked so different than I thought you would, I thought you would like like Eloise.  You had very little hair and it was blonde.  You had blue eyes and I thought you looked like your Grandpa Bromley.  Later that morning your sister came to see you.  I was a little nervous at how she would react to you because it had been all about her for almost two years.  But she immediately loved you and kissed you on your forehead.

It was so perfect. Our family was perfect and everything felt right.  Holding you then I never thought that I would only have you in our life for 9 months.  I look at those pictures and remembered that feeling of "this is how life should be".

I can tell when I am about to have a grief ridden episode.  I start to feel anxious, and I can't bring myself to participate in any type of social interaction, no matter how small.  My mind starts flooding with memories of you.  My heart starts to hurt emotionally and physically.  This is followed by tears, sometimes silent, sometimes loud.  I find myself asking several times a day, out loud, "Where's Haddie?"  Even though you are gone I still find myself wanting to do things for you.  Today we were shopping in a little town called Charlevoix.  We bought your sister a tea set and I wanted so badly to buy you this adorable "Pure Girl" shirt.  I picked out your size and everything.  I love you baby girl, so much, it truly does hurt.

Forever and Always,

Mama

Adventures

Haddie Bo Bo,

So some good family friends of ours so graciously let us stay in their cottage up in northern Michigan.  We haven’t really spent much time in northern Michigan before so this will be an adventure.  It’s really our first time spending an extended amount of time away from our house since you passed.  I think it will be ok because we are all together.  As we drove up here I kept looking back at your sister and then over to where your car seat should be.  Even though I know you are gone I still look for you everywhere we go.    

We wanted to do a little get away before we attempt to start our new “normal” this week.  Your Daddy is going back to work on the 1^st, and I know that he is nervous about it.  However, we have decided that it would be best for our family for me to stay home.  How do you drop your child off at daycare when last time I did I never saw you again?  I know that I will never regret staying home with your sister, but I will miss my job.  I was good at it and I have worked for this company for 6 years.  They have been so good to us during this whole time.  It’s just another thing that has to change because you aren’t here.  But as I said in an early letter to you I couldn’t imagine doing the same things when nothing feels the same. 

The other day some good friends from high school had me over for lunch and swimming.  There was a little girl there that is a little older than you.  She had bright blue eyes, and a toothy grin, and of course I thought about you.  She even kicked her legs the same way you did when you got excited.  But what brought me to tears was when Elo was playing with her.  I think that Elo really misses you, Haddie.  She is so young, so she can’t tell me that she misses you, but I can tell that she does. I grieve for the loss she doesn’t know.  The other day she wanted me to read the book, “Sister’s Forever”.  I made it through but with lots of tears.  You won’t be able to play superhero’s together, dress up, or even fight with each other.  I was so excited when I found out we were having another girl.  I had always wanted a sister and I was going to be able to give Elo what I never had.    

I really want to use this time off of work for a project I have in mind.  I would like to write children’s books.  You will be my main character and it will be my way of seeing you grow up.  Of course I have no experience writing children’s books but I have a passion to do it.  So let this new adventure start!   

But as always, Haddie, my heart is heavy because you are not here.  We are in this beautiful place, with picture perfect weather, your spunky sister, and it’s almost perfect. 

Love you forever and always Bo Bo,

Mama

Bliss

Haddie Bo Bo,

I spent some time today looking at photos from the weeks before you passed.  We were all so happy in them.  Your smile is so big and your eyes so bright and alive.  Our life was busy, fun, and best of all full of love.  Dance parties in the kitchen, reading books in Elo's bed, early morning cuddles, life was bliss and we didn't even know it.  It's such a cliche to say but you never know what you have until it's gone.  I always knew that you were special and how you made our family complete.  But now I realize I should have never complained about the stupid stuff EVER.  Who cares if the dishes aren't done, or the laundry is in piles.  That stuff does't matter.  Oh what I wouldn't give to go back...

Grief is a funny thing, it effects all parts of your life.  Not only have I lost you the most important thing, but everything is changed (I will explain in a future post).  That's for the best though, I can't imagine going back to do thing same things with out you, Haddie.  My inside is a mess and will never look the same.  But our day to day lives will also be different.  We may do a lot of the things we used to do but it will be different.  My insides are such a broken mess.  It's weird that on the outside you look completely normal.  I think it should be tattooed on my forehead "lost a child...I'm a mess".

Today a friend wanted to make a special sign for your birthday.  I needed to come up with your favorite foods, toys, and activities.  I quickly rattled off a couple things...then I struggled.  I had to look through your photos to remember some specifics.  As we drove home I cried because it's getting harder and harder to remember the everyday stuff that you liked.  It hasn't even been a month and I am already forgetting things.  I am starting to forget what it was like to hold you.  I am starting to forget your giggle, your smell, and the feel of your bald head.  I am forgetting what it feels like to have you crawl up me to be close.   I am forgetting what it looked like to see your face light up when you saw mine.   Haddie, I hate that you are gone and that I am forgetting you.   Each day is farther away from you....

We were at the beach the other night and we were having a great time.  A friend, so nicely offered to take a family picture.  Your daddy and I both looked at each other and said, "No that's ok, thank you."  How can we take a family picture with out you, it doesn't seem right.  I know that someday we will be able to do that, but we weren't ready.  The thought of a taking a family picture with out you literally makes my stomach turn.  

Eloise asked if we could visit you...that sucked.  But it was sooo sweet.  She also thinks that the cards we get in the mail are from you.  She says, "Read Haddie's letters."  I love her so much.   I love you so much.

I want my life back before you were gone.  I want my old normal.  I want you.

Love,

Mama

Haddie and AJ ...

Not much has made sense since you have been gone.  Monday morning I got some news that just sent my world, that is already in a million pieces, spinning again.

About a year and a half ago I signed Chris and I up to do something called "Rooted" at church. I had been asking Chris for about 6 months if we could do it ,and time after time he said "Maybe".  For anyone who knows my husband "maybe" is a synonym for no.   Rooted is a very intense Bible study that is 10 weeks long.  You are placed with strangers, and for 10 weeks you share your deepest darkest struggles, your faith journey, and your life.  It makes you dig deep to find out who you really are and then you share that with perfect strangers.  I can't really imagine why Chris wouldn't want to do this???  So one day I came home and told Chris that I signed us up for Rooted, and we will just go check it out and we can always quit if we hate it.  The only way I was able to get him to even go the first night was one of the couples in our group was my best friends Emily and Aaron Brown.  We went to the first night and we sat around with a group of 16 couples introducing ourselves.  We have all since talked about our first impressions and had a good laugh.  But looking around at our group I was thinking, "There is no way I will relate to any of these people."

A year and a half later, I eat my words every day we are living life together.  I was pregnant with you, Haddie, when we started, I think I was only 12 weeks along.  They supported me through my pregnancy, threw me a surprise shower.  They brought us meals once you were born.  They came and loved on you all the time, and you became every one's baby.  At any get together we had you were constantly passed around despite your dislike for large groups.  Many of the teenagers in our group babysat you. You were so gracious when they put your diapers on backwards.  

Monday this week, Amy, one of the ladies that babysat you a lot, got devastating news.  She was pregnant ready to have her c-section that morning, so excited to meet Adrian Jay (AJ).  But instead, the night before she went into the hospital, not feeling good to be told AJ had no heartbeat.  I got the news Monday morning and my heart immediately dropped to my stomach.  How can this be happening again?  Less than a month after you went to be with Jesus.  My heart aches for Amy and I can't imagine how she  is feeling knowing she has to give birth to her son not the way she ever imagined.

God brought our group together, to walk through this storm alongside one another.  As much as I believe that sometimes my thoughts are still, "This is so cruel."  Yesterday I had asked Aaron to send me a copy of your message from your funeral.  I was reading it this morning and this part stuck out to me:

Some people may say that Haddie’s death at this time was God's plan.  

Don't you dare believe them.  

The Jesus we follow, the God who watches over us, doesn't choose the death of 

babies or the pain of their parents.  

Many, many things that happen in this world are not the perfect will of God. 

The truth that is, is that this world is broken and we are stuck between what God 

created and called good, and what he has promised us to bring to fulfillment.

And in the in-between we feel the tension. The world is a broken place.

It’s not suppose to be like this, 

and right now it’s absolutely appropriate to be angry.

Our anger at this brokenness proves that we are made in God’s image.

He hates death. He hates injustices.

And for those of us who follow Jesus, the pain and the anger gives us a compass for truth.

If this isn’t what it’s supposed to be, then
deep within us we know what truth and justice look like. And we long for it. We
are desperate for it. And we hope it.

I sat with Amy on that Monday and even though I am going through a similar experience I found 
myself not knowing what to say, or how to comfort her.   We talked about how we were jealous of 
each other.  She was jealous of me for being able to get to know you Haddie.  I was jealous of her 
because we was going to have AJ.  Do I really believe those words that Aaron 
spoke?  In my heart I think I do...but not so much in my head yet.  

I have been doing a lot of thinking about heaven and what it will be like.  Haddie I want and I long to 

hold you again, rub your head, and let you bite me.  I am longing for heaven and the moment we are 

reunited.  I am forever feeling like my heart is torn in two.  Half my my heart is in heaven with you 

and the other half is here with your Daddy and Elo.  

I know that you are up there completely fulfilled.  I truly believe that you know who we are and that you too are looking forward to the day when we can be together again.  Until that day baby keep 

playing with AJ and show him the ropes.  

Love you Baby,

Mama

I do pray...but not the prayers you would think.

Haddie Bo Bo,

Being a Christ follower I feel like when you go through a traumatic event it's expected for you to have this strong "christian" outlook.  Maybe not, but I know that I have thought that in the past of others I have seen go through a hard time, "So and So is such a strong Christian".  There is an expectation for phrases to be used like, "God has a plan, God will use this for good, God will teach you something, Anything to further God's kingdom", etc.  While all these things are true, I am no where close to feeling like saying any of those things or even thinking them.  At times I am mad at God, my heart struggles to comprehend the "why" of this situation.  But in that same breath I am finding comfort in God.  I haven't been talking much with Him, but I know that he knows my heart.  I know that He knows my prayers even when I can't put words to them.  I do pray everyday, but not the prayers you would think.  I can only form simple prayers of a few words.  I pray, "God help me."  I pray, "God wake me up from this nightmare."  I pray, "God bring Haddie back."  I know it sounds silly that I pray for God to bring you back, Haddie.  But I do I pray it everyday.

There is a difference between believing something in your heart and believing it in your head.  I do believe God is for my good in my heart.  But right now my head is having a hard time believing that.  I have found comfort in music, and so when I feel like I need to spend time with God, I go for a walk and listen to certain songs and cry.  God knows.

Even though I know that we had your funeral it is still surreal to me.  You never think that you will be attending your daughter's funeral.  You never think that you will have to pick out the smallest casket ever for your baby girl.  You shouldn't have to pick out an outfit to wear to say goodbye to your child.  You never think you would be able to plan a funeral service for your daughter.  You never think you might have to pick out an urn for your daughter's remains.  None of these thoughts had ever cross my mind.  Or if they did I never thought I would be able to do it.  I still have a hard time believing I attended your funeral.  Did I really walk myself into that church for your funeral service?

It really was beautiful, Haddie.  Daddy had a hard time having any input on the service itself, but he was there during the meeting.  It all kind of happened by chance.  We were surrounded by our support team which consisted of Aunt Alisa, Aunt Emily and Uncle Aaron, Aunt Rachel, and Mark.  Without these people we wouldn't have been able to function that week.  They did everything for us from bringing us meals, buying me clothes to wear, talking me through all of my emotions, and just sitting there while we stared at a wall for hours at a time.  There were lots of people behind the scenes that I didn't even know that were helping us, and we are forever grateful.  Anyway back to planning your funeral, we sat in our living room and just talked about what we wanted and how we wanted to honor you, Haddie.  We planned it all in about an hour and it was amazing how it came together.

Your funeral was on a Saturday, it was sunny and warm.  A good friend came over in the morning and helped Mama get ready.  We arrived at the church, walked in, and I was so surprised at how many people sent you flowers.  All of your favorite things were there, your favorite blanket, walker, and toys.  So many people came to support us. 

 We sang beautiful songs, watched a slide show, and videos of you.  I wanted people who didn't know you to get a glimpse of who you were.  Your Aunt Alisa, Aunt Emily, and Aunt Rachel gave your Eulogy, and Uncle Aaron gave the message.

Your sister covered your casket with your favorite blanket she giggled and said, "My Haddie so funny." Then without being told she laid her head on your casket.  We didn't let Eloise see you or even tell her you were inside.  We thought that would be too confusing for her because we told her you were with Jesus.

After the service was over we held you again.  Daddy and I sang you "Jesus loves me" and we read you "Good Night Moon".  We rocked you and tucked you in for the last time.

We closed the casket for the last time that was so hard, and I had to have Dave (the funeral director) come and stay with you because I didn't want to leave you alone.  I can't really explain the feeling of closing a casket knowing that was the last time we would see your face.

We headed to a house on lake Michigan and had sometime together with our family and friends.  We wrote you messages on white balloons and released them into the sky. For a day that I never thought I would have to live through, it was perfect.

You are loved, Haddie Bo Bo, and never forgotten.  

Forever and Always Bo Bo Love,

Mama