Wednesday, September 4, 2013

On Facing Your Fifth Birthday



The night before you were born, I couldn’t sleep. I laid in the hospital a ball of nerves—a million questions running through my mind. What would you look like? Were you a boy or a girl? What would we name you? Would you have ten fingers? Ten toes?

The night before you should have turned five, I couldn’t sleep. I cried in the shower until no sound came out. I laid in bed, the all-too-familiar aching in my arms returning.  A million unanswerable questions ran through my mind. How could this have happened? Will grief season ever get any easier? How do I make it through this month without letting your siblings know how absolutely, devastatingly broken I feel?

Today I should be sneaking into your room to sing you Happy Birthday and wake you with a surprise. We should have a party planned for you when you return from school, because as a “big girl” now, you’d be going to Kindergarten, or, maybe I would have kept you home to spend the day celebrating together. Instead I am wondering how to make it through this day without you here.

I am wondering how to keep your siblings from noticing my swollen eyes, my tears and heartbreak, because they are so little and impressionable and they deserve all of me all of the time. I don’t want them to know they’ve never had that. I don’t want them to know that before they were born, a large part of me died. I can’t bear the thought that they might look at me and see the brokenness.

Today I should be planning your party but instead I am trying to find a way, some way, to mark this day in a way that feels worthy of you. If the weather cooperates we will head to the beach and release some lanterns, but it’s a poor substitute for the joy we would feel watching you blow out your own candles, marking another glorious year here with us.

I wish I could be that loss mom who only recalls the blessings you brought into this world. In years past I have focused on your love and light on your birthday post, knowing that there are twenty-seven more days in grief season to go to recall the pain, but the reality is that the hurt of missing you on this birthday hit me with such a wave last night that I don’t know how to do this gracefully. 

I don’t know how to find the beauty in the pain when the memories of all you were put through in your short time on this earth are still fresh. Just as I felt five years ago, I don’t know how any of this could happen.  I don’t know how our reality could possibly be that you are not here with us.

Today marks the first of twenty eight days, your whole life, that I got to touch you, but it wasn't holding you in my arms, it was putting my hand in your isolette. Today marks the day that I watched a tiny baby become a little warrior. Today is the first of a limited  number of times that I got to look into your knowing eyes wishing for more for you. It should mark the day we became parents, it should have been one of the happiest days of our lives, but in reality today marks the second most painful and traumatic day of my life—a close rival in emotion to the day we said goodbye. Today marks the day that we were utterly, and completely blindsided by the cruelty that is cancer.

I know where you are your birthday is Happy. I know you are free of pain and surrounded by those loved ones who have gone before us, and I pray you feel a level of warmth and security that is the opposite of the suffocating emotions that I am feeling down here in this broken world. I just can’t seem to convince myself to be happy about facing yet another birthday without you here.

17 comments:

  1. Sending you so much peace, love and light, as well as many healing thoughts and prayers. I am so sorry that you don't get to celebrate this milestone with Peyton here in your arms and your home. Life can be so unfair, especially for those who are touched by baby loss and cancer, not to mention when you experience both. Hang in there. You and Peyton have made a positive impact on so many others' lives through sharing your journey together. I know that does bring her back or make the pain go away, but I hope it gives you so comfort and solace during your darker days. Happy 5th Heavenly Birthday, dear Peyton! So much good has been and continues to be done in your name, thanks to your amazing mama! xoxo

    ReplyDelete
  2. This comment has been removed by the author.

    ReplyDelete
  3. This is just so achingly beautiful, familiar, haunting...that grief season, the tearing out of your heart and the touching up of your face all day just to make it through and try to appear as together as possible, because after all, the little ones here feel miraculous and the gratitude. I can't say anything to make it better, except that I am here. We are here. We remember her. Know what you do in her name. Know how amazing she would be, because we know how amazing you are. You are so loved and held this day, and everyday. XO

    ReplyDelete
  4. Sending you much love and prayers today.

    ReplyDelete
  5. This is the most beautiful thing I've read all day. You can feel the love coming off the screen. I am so sorry that you don't have your little girl.

    ReplyDelete
  6. Kate said it perfectly....Minimal cancer research for children because they can't vote...they don't have a big lobby. They are our future..they haven't had a chance to experience life and all too soon experience death after more pain than they should have to endure. It's up to us all to try to change this, in Peyton's name and all the other little warriors. Nana Nina

    ReplyDelete
  7. I am so sorry for your hurt, your loss, your aching arms.

    Abiding with you and remembering your daughter's birthday with you. I'll be thinking of you both a little bit extra all month.

    ReplyDelete
  8. The tears are pouring down my face. Your love, and pain, are so palpable. I'm so incredibly sorry for your loss.

    ReplyDelete
  9. A beautiful post for your beautiful daughter. I am so sorry she is not here.

    ReplyDelete
  10. Heartbreaking and so full of love for your daughter. I am so sorry you are not spending her fifth birthday with Peyton. Thank you for sharing this beautiful post with us. I am abiding with you today, this month and always. (((Hugs)))

    ReplyDelete
  11. sending so much love as you remember peyton's too short stay here on earth. wishing you peace, love and light. xo

    ReplyDelete
  12. Im so sorry your baby isn't here in your arms celebrating. I don't think there are any words that will offer comfort so instead I am sending some hugs and love and praying for some peace for you.

    ReplyDelete
  13. Happy birthday to sweet Peyton. She is always remembered. You, my friend, are always full of grace and your words are full of love. I hope you feel her love today and always.

    ReplyDelete
  14. "I don’t know how to find the beauty in the pain when the memories of all you were put through in your short time on this earth are still fresh." This just sums it all up. For you and for me and for all of those like us who know this pain.

    I'm so sorry that you couldn't have cake and candles and balloons the way you imagined. Your words really touched me and the ring so very true to me. Sending lots of love during the grief season <3

    ReplyDelete
  15. Happy belated birthday sweet angel. I just came across ur bblog and wanted to say how sorry I am for ur loss and the world's loss. Of ur beautiful girl. I so wish she was here with u. No child should ever have to suffer , the only thing that can get us thru (( or me at least) is Knowing our loved ones r in a better place and we will c them again, but I know it dosnt take away the sucky aching feeling of missing them and. WNting them back. bless u and ur little angel.

    ReplyDelete
  16. I'm so sorry she isn't here. Beautiful that you celebrate her still every day. please visit my friend's blog and say hello. I think she would be happy to hear from you. -Kate

    http://rainbowsfornoah.blogspot.com/

    ReplyDelete
  17. Sending you love and wishing you peace. I live with so much guilt everyday that my daughters 29 days with us were filled with so much pain and tears. I hate that she saw me cry more than she saw me smile. You put your feelings into such beautiful words that hit so close to home for us baby loss mothers. My daughters 4th birthday is coming up and 29 short days later the day she passed too...prayers to all the baby loss parents struggling through grief season and always.

    ReplyDelete