Another Year...(warning: sad topic and picture)

has passed since my first baby was born. It was July 23, we named her Katy Nicole. We found out she had died when I went in for a routine 24 week check up and there was no heartbeat. It was heartbreaking for both Casey and myself. I like to write a little something each year on her birthday. Last year was the story and my reactions and feelings. This year I'd like to mention a few things about the grieving process and healing.

After Katy died I was depressed. There's no nice way to say it. Casey couldn't leave me alone for more than a few minutes without me turning into a sobbing mess. I cried myself to sleep for many nights, my arms aching to hold the daughter I didn't have. It was true physical pain that I felt, and not from giving birth, but from loss. I never realized just how intense that pain could be, but my chest would pound and my heart would ache, and my arms craved to hold my baby. I thought I knew how to deal with death, having lost a close friend and roommate just a couple years earlier, but nothing can prepare you for the pain of losing a child. I learned about myself through grief- that I am proud and do not like to ask for help, and that I am weak and cannot do everything.

A couple days after delivery we had a private graveside service for Katy at a local cemetary. It was beautiful and the funeral home we worked with documented everything on a CD for us to keep. We had great support from family, friends, ward, and community which helped us get through the excruciating experience of burying our daughter. Like I said, it was hard, but the important thing here is that we did it!

I remember telling Casey that I just wanted to fast forward a month or so to get through everything.  Obviously we couldn't do that, but time passed just the same and the pain turned from consuming me to a dull ache that I could live with.  I still feel it everytime people ask how many kids I have and it stings to tell them I have one when in reality I know I have two, but I deal.  I read other stories of mothers who have lost children, and I pray for help when the grief gets too much, and I cry when it hits me hardest.  The toughest part was accepting that I had to cry and that it was okay.  Now I can do that: I feel bad and have myself a little 5-10 minute cry-fest and I feel better.  Plus we live close to the cemetary so we can visit her grave.

One more new thing that I feel strong enough to do this year is share a picture of my Katy.  It's a big step for me, since the only other people who have seen any pictures of her are family.

I look forward to the day I am reunited with this precious little girl!