It reminds me of the joy we felt in the midst of such horrible pain.
This was the day we lost our innocence about life. The day when the worst that could possibly happen, happened.
In this picture, we are smiling at our firstborn daughter. What a gift we were given.
The problem is that she is dead.
Stillborn.
I am holding her lifeless body. We are admiring her beauty and all her tiny features that were a unique blend of the two of us. For that very brief moment in time, we were a family.
And then we had to let go...
Let go of the dreams, and the plans we had for her and for us as a family. Let go of her body to be handed over to the authorities who handle remains of the deceased. Let go of the pieces of our hearts that were ripped out of us the day she died.
Tomorrow is the 10-year anniversary of her birth and death.
I think I am finally ready to Let Go...
I suggested to The Referee that I would like to go through the process of purchasing a grave plot and headstone, and burying Mackenzie's ashes.
I think I am ready to finally put her to rest. To let go of the remains of her body. To let go of the hope that things could have been different. To let go of the anger that things should have been different.
It has taken me a long time to get to this point of acceptance. 10 years. I tried to busy myself with other things (and other children) and deny having to face the full pain of such loss.
From the very start, I never wanted to let her go. I did not want to leave the hospital without a baby in my arms. I even wondered if stillborn babies could be preserved and kept, much like hunters preserve animals. I chose cremation over burial, so that I could keep her ashes. I announced that we did not necessarily feel we had a place to call "Home" where I would feel comfortable having her buried. I wanted to keep her with me.
I sense that God is preparing me for something lately. But, I realize that I must fully heal before I can fully serve in a capacity beyond my own strength.
I must let go of all things of this Earth, and live with an eternal perspective. As my living children continue to grow, I see firsthand that Motherhood is a season of life....and that season will one day be complete. My nest will empty. Eventually, I must let all of my children Go...
I also see clearly that we do have a place to call Home here. We have a church family and a community that we belong to. I am comfortable burying our daughter here in this town. Even if we were to one day move away, I feel at peace with her here, knowing this was the place where our family started, endured, and healed. We have a history here.
I called the graveyard and inquired about the process for burial. From a business standpoint, it all sound pretty straightforward. From an emotional standpoint, it is like jumping off a cliff into the unknown. Can I really jump and not have anything left to hold on to?
Yes.
Because it is not the cremains of her body that bring me joy. It is the footprints she left on my heart...
This was the day we lost our innocence about life. The day when the worst that could possibly happen, happened.
In this picture, we are smiling at our firstborn daughter. What a gift we were given.
The problem is that she is dead.
Stillborn.
I am holding her lifeless body. We are admiring her beauty and all her tiny features that were a unique blend of the two of us. For that very brief moment in time, we were a family.
And then we had to let go...
Let go of the dreams, and the plans we had for her and for us as a family. Let go of her body to be handed over to the authorities who handle remains of the deceased. Let go of the pieces of our hearts that were ripped out of us the day she died.
Tomorrow is the 10-year anniversary of her birth and death.
I think I am finally ready to Let Go...
I suggested to The Referee that I would like to go through the process of purchasing a grave plot and headstone, and burying Mackenzie's ashes.
I think I am ready to finally put her to rest. To let go of the remains of her body. To let go of the hope that things could have been different. To let go of the anger that things should have been different.
It has taken me a long time to get to this point of acceptance. 10 years. I tried to busy myself with other things (and other children) and deny having to face the full pain of such loss.
From the very start, I never wanted to let her go. I did not want to leave the hospital without a baby in my arms. I even wondered if stillborn babies could be preserved and kept, much like hunters preserve animals. I chose cremation over burial, so that I could keep her ashes. I announced that we did not necessarily feel we had a place to call "Home" where I would feel comfortable having her buried. I wanted to keep her with me.
I sense that God is preparing me for something lately. But, I realize that I must fully heal before I can fully serve in a capacity beyond my own strength.
I must let go of all things of this Earth, and live with an eternal perspective. As my living children continue to grow, I see firsthand that Motherhood is a season of life....and that season will one day be complete. My nest will empty. Eventually, I must let all of my children Go...
I also see clearly that we do have a place to call Home here. We have a church family and a community that we belong to. I am comfortable burying our daughter here in this town. Even if we were to one day move away, I feel at peace with her here, knowing this was the place where our family started, endured, and healed. We have a history here.
I called the graveyard and inquired about the process for burial. From a business standpoint, it all sound pretty straightforward. From an emotional standpoint, it is like jumping off a cliff into the unknown. Can I really jump and not have anything left to hold on to?
Yes.
Because it is not the cremains of her body that bring me joy. It is the footprints she left on my heart...
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