Once I had a little rose closed up inside my womb
But Jesus called her to come home before my rose could bloom

Sunday, December 11, 2011


Last year Christmas was an ordeal for me. Everywhere I looked, people were celebrating Jesus babyhood and that was really, really hard for me. It wasn't much easier for Ben. It was like slap after slap in the face reminding me that MY baby was in a box on our memorial shelf for her, that I could never hold my baby again.

This year it's a little different. Ben and I got married close to Christmas, so this year I'm looking forward to celebrating our anniversary and Christmas together. This year, it's easier to see the hope of Christmas. It still hurts to think that Donna Rose isn't here. My friend has a little girl who was born close to Donna Rose's due date. He posted that she's started to walk and that brings tears to my eyes. If things had gone they way they should have, I'd have to keep a very close eye on my daughter to keep her from pulling the glass ornaments off of our tree. I'd be happily wrapping gifts to surprise her with on Christmas day. But things didn't work out that way.  However, because Jesus came to earth as a baby so many years ago, I have hope that someday I can spend Christmas with ALL of my children in heaven. Without the miracle of Christmas, my daughter's death would be final. We would be separated for all eternity. But because Christ came and because Christ died, I know that someday I will see Donna Rose and we can rejoice in Christ together.

Sunday, October 30, 2011

One Year

It's been one year since we held you,
One year since we saw your precious face.
One year since we named you.
One year since we left you in that place.

One year since we stroked your tiny
Hands and feet and kissed your little head.
One year since we planned your service
After the doctors declared you dead

It's been one year since we traded
Our hopes and our dreams for a small box,
A plaster, a picture packet
Our hearts felt as heavy as huge rocks.

It's been one whole year without you
One year without our own Donna bear
A year full of grief and of sorrow
One year,more than your lifetime, unfair

Thursday, September 8, 2011

Right Now

Today, you should be 6 months old.
You should be rolling all over the place.
You should be making your daddy run after you.
You should be smiling, giggling, and making cute sounds.
You should be eating soft foods, like cereal and 'nanas.
You should be playing on your back with toys hanging on a baby gym

But instead, you're spending the time in Heaven. You've been there a little more than 10 months, my dear. Perhaps you're starting to uncurl your baby wings. Maybe the angels sing you to sleep at night. And perhaps Jesus holds you and hugs you because Mommy can't just yet. It's so hard, my dear, to be left behind. There are days when I would give anything to change places with you because having you gone just hurts so much. Your daddy and I miss you and think about you every day. I wish we could see what you are like. How you grow and develop, if people do that kind of thing in Heaven. I love you, my little rose. 

Monday, September 5, 2011

How I'm feeling

Forgive me for turning away when you announced that you have a brand new baby in your life. I can't help it. Part of me is very happy for you, but a lot of me was hurt by your announcement. You see, I should have been able to announce MY brand new baby last March, but in October something dreadful happened. No one knows why. My baby was born too soon, and so I never got to take her home. All these firsts that you are experiencing, I didn't get to do. I had barely begun to feel her kick inside me before she was gone. I had to leave her at the hospital knowing I would never get to see her again. I kissed her tiny cold head and said goodbye. I will never see her first smile. I will never see her first step. I will never send her off to school for the first time, or help her pack to go to college. I will never see her first communion or her baptism. So, yes I am happy for you. But I'm also very devastated for me.

Sunday, September 4, 2011

This time last year

This time last year, I introduced your grandpa to your daddy
This time last year, your grandma was so hurt by me, that she wasn't speaking to me
This time last year, your uncle left for college for the first time
This time last year, your aunts judged your daddy and determined he wasn't so bad.
This time last year, I played with your cousins, dreaming of the day they would play games with you.
This time last year, your daddy yelled "Aaaaffffffflaaaaaaaccc!" at ducks on a lake and I laughed.
This time last year, I started, ever so slightly to feel you move inside me
This time last year, I was making plans for caring for you during your first months.
Oh how I miss this time last year.

Wednesday, August 3, 2011

A Cloud

A cloud of darkness surrounds my heart making me weep.
So cruel, the loss of hopes I held most dear,
Over and over again, despite my attempts to steel myself,
To harden my heart.
Yet cruel hope springs up to entertain dreams of joy.
Then as it is dashed, it plunges me to despair, deep and dark.
The injustice of it angers me.
Why, when my heart could be so full of love,
Am I denied that which would receive it
And make it grow?
While others starve the ones around them,
Keeping all their care for themselves,
Why are those who need my love taken from me?

Sunday, July 10, 2011

My Dear daughter,

I miss you so much. You should have been 4 months old yesterday. I keep thinking that now would have been a good time for a four generations picture with My grandma Gracie, your grandma Donna, you, and me. But they never got the chance to meet you, to see you, or hold you. You ought to be a chubby baby right now, so cute in your swim suit, going to the pool with Grandpa Art and your daddy and cuddling with your Grandma Donna. It makes me so sad that you never got the chance to do any of that.

It is so unfair that I didn't get to keep you and there are women out their who neglect or abuse their babies. And women who have baby after baby so they can stay on welfare. I'm beginning to despair of ever having children. Month after month goes by and I can't seem to produce a brother or sister for you. You have lots of cousins and I'm sure you'll have many more. I hope that will do for you, sweet princess. Mommy is getting tired and old and doesn't have much hope left.



Sunday, July 3, 2011


If I had a box just for wishes
And dreams that had never come true ~ Jim Croce "Time in a Bottle"

I don't know why, but I have had Time in a Bottle lyrics running through my head for the last few days. I looked it up online to see a little of the history of the song and it turns out that Croce wrote it for his unborn son. No wonder it makes me cry, especially the lyrics above. After all, I have a box for wishes and dreams that never came true. It is a little wooden box with the picture of an angel burnt into it. It isn't even half full, that's how little my dream came true. Ben and I kept her in a place of honor before we moved. Now she is in our bedroom until we can again put up our memorial.

I miss you so much, Donna Rose.

Monday, June 20, 2011

Dear Donna Bear

My darling daughter,

I may not have written in a while, but not a day goes by without me thinking of you. I have your picture as the background on my phone because it keeps you close to me.

Yesterday was father's day and it was really rough on your poor daddy. I tried to make his day as pain free as possible, but he misses you as much as I do and it really tears at his heart that you are not here with us. He is feeling better today, but I know he hurts inside. Today I gave your daddy a silly father's day card to cheer him up. He loved that!

You have a new cousin coming in February. I wish you had a brother or sister coming then as well, but so far no luck, my dear. I think that is hard on your daddy too. I know that it hurts me when another month goes by and there's no baby.

Today your daddy and I celebrated our neighbor's third birthday. She is a sweet girl and we enjoyed celebrating her birthday. She had a Mini Mouse theme. :) Behave yourself up there my darling. Give your grandmother a kiss from your daddy. Enjoy playing with Serenity, Brielle, and Owynn.

I miss you,


Thursday, May 19, 2011

What does a soul look like?

I keep a picture of my daughter on my phone. It helps me to keep her close to me. It occurred to me today that my baby is only her soul now. It makes me wonder what her soul looks like.

Sunday, May 8, 2011

Mother's Day

today in church all mothers were asked to stand up while they were recognized. I cried all the way through. They told me "You are a mother too." But I often don't feel that way with her gone.

Wednesday, May 4, 2011


It weaves in and out, a cobra taunting
It ebbs and flows, a tidal wave at times
To wrestle it is ever so daunting
Yet giving in to it exceeds all crimes   
It overwhelms, it crushes, it subdues
It pricks, it wiggles into many lives
It tugs at hope, wishing to pull it loose
Sometimes it seems to die, but it revives
A dull and steady ache, and yet it burns
A whirlpool, but one that loses pull
Expressions of this state the world spurns
But condemns those who lack it most of all
How lucky those who never suffer grief
Oh Pity those of us who seek relief.

Spring Grief

Today Ben and I took his father to Fort Collins to view an apartment. On our way back, I saw a woman pushing her baby in a stroller over to a park close to our home. It kicked me in the gut. I should be that lady now. I should be taking my baby for walks on beautiful days like today. I should be fussing over making her comfortable in her stroller and keeping her booties on her precious little feet. I should be chattering away at her as I clean my kitchen and make dinner for her daddy. I should be singing to her to sooth her crying. She never got the chance to cry and I never got the chance to sooth her.

Saturday, April 23, 2011

Happy Easter

My darling Donna Rose,

Happy, happy Easter, my precious little girl. I hope you're enjoying the Easter Celebrations up there in Heaven. Mommy had so many plans for your first Easter. I wish I had been able to make you an Easter basket and an Easter bonnet this year. I would have put you in a pretty dress and all the ladies at church would have cooed over you. I know you're enjoying the festivities up there in Heaven. Jesus is taking special care of you and your angel baby friends, I am sure. I miss you more than I can say, my dear. Daddy misses you too.



Sunday, April 17, 2011

Normally, when I write in my blog, I am upset about something. I come to write because I'm marking a day of significance in Donna Rose's short life or because something I saw made me angry because my daughter isn't here or because I'm feeling her loss keenly. Today, I felt I should write about the way I have been feeling lately.

I will never forget my daughter. I will never wish that she wasn't here with me now. Right now I'm in a place of acceptance. The pain is like a tide at ebb. I know my daughter is gone. I miss her, but I am learning to live around her absence. I am functioning for the other things that have meaning in my life.

More pressing in my thoughts are my school, my students, and my husband (not necessarily in that order.) I'm also thinking about future plans. My husband has been telling me that he wants to move to South Dakota eventually, so I am doing my best to get us there sooner rather than later. I'm thinking about my friends and their problems which are more pressing than my own.

I'm also supporting my husband in his battles against injustice. Because this is tax month, my husband and I knew we were going to be short on cash and were going to struggle to put food on the table, so we applied for food stamps and ever since we've been battling with the department of human services. It seems that hard working tax payers cannot get help when they need it because the system is too busy serving lazy bums, drug dealers and illegal immigrant. It makes us very angry that our taxes fund programs like this which punish people who are trying to better themselves so they don't need to rely on the system and rewards people who abuse the system. Ben also battles with utility providers who make mistakes on our bills, though most of the time they are more willing to work with us to fix problems than government programs.

Friday, April 1, 2011

The troubles with TTC

Once the doctor cleared my health, Ben and I decided to TTC. It's been a very frustrating thing. I get my hopes up, start dreaming of a new baby, and then am crushed to find out that we weren't successful. In some ways, it's like losing another baby, because I have this pretty little scenario all in my head. I so badly wanted us to be successful last month. It would have been a bit of justification to me for losing Donna Rose. Had it worked, her brother or sister would not have been able to exist had she been full term. Here we are again at a point in the month where my hopes are high and I am starting to dream again. I'm not looking forward to the roller-coaster dip should we not have been successful this month, and it is so hard to wait to know. Ben is equally impatient, wanting me to take pregnancy tests well before they can tell us anything.


Tuesday, March 22, 2011

Can't sleep

When my husband suggested we go to bed more than an hour ago, I knew tonight was going to be another of those nights. He is snoring beside me and I can't seem to get myself to sleep. So many things today reminded me of how things were supposed to be right now. I am supposed to be awake and restless because my baby wants to nurse. I am supposed to be changing poopy diapers and bathing my sweet little one. Yet another friend posted a pregnant picture. She is 27 weeks along, past the magic viability mark. It felt like being jabbed with a pin. She looks so radiant and happy. There is no trace of fear that something might go wrong. I feel horrible for hating her right now because I didn't get to experience that and never will. I know that if my husband and I do manage to conceive again, there will always be fear for me that something will go wrong. I know I will be tempted to keep a pregnancy secret as long as possible just because of fear. But at least Ben and I are not letting fear hold us back.

Thursday, March 17, 2011

St. Patrick's Day

May God give you... for every storm a rainbow, for every tear a smile, for every care a promise and a blessing in each trial. For every problem life sends, a faithful friend to share, for every sigh a sweet song and an answer for each prayer. ::Irish Blessing::
Right now it feels like our life is a storm with no rainbow in sight. We feel like we are drowning and the folks with the life preservers don't feel like throwing them to us. They'd much rather throw them to the people in the life boats. It's easy to save folks who aren't drowning. Much harder to help someone in a panic.We know we will survive the storm. After all, we follow the one who the winds and the waves obey. Right now, though, we're in the thick of the hurricane and things don't look so bright.

Saturday, March 12, 2011

Dear Donna Rose

My darling daughter,

You're going to be tired of me telling you how much I miss you and how much I wish that I could hold you and nurture you and watch you grow. This week, your daddy decided you should not be alone on our memorial shelf for you, so he brought up your grandmother's ashes and put them next to yours. I never knew your Grandma Sophie, but your daddy tells me she was a wonderful lady. It made your daddy cry. In some ways, he has lost his past and part of his future so all that remains is the present. You were so small, darling, so fragile and innocent. We will never forget you and how you changed our lives.



Tuesday, March 8, 2011

Candles for Donna Rose

A tiny beacon glows down here, a little spark of light.
It pierces through the atmosphere and twinkles in the night.
A candle lit in memory of our own Donna Rose.

Our candle burns throughout the day, though many do not see
You're in our hearts in the same way, a secret mystery
You burn inside our memory, our darling Donna Rose.

Our friends each light a candle too. They sympathize because
They know how much we both miss you, so each of them will pause
To light a little candle just to honor Donna Rose.

Thursday, March 3, 2011

Due Date

Next Tuesday is the day the doctors told me was my due date. Every day I think "I should be huge as a hippo. I should be just about ready to pop!" And it seems so very unfair that I'm not. Ben and I have been TTC. Had we been successful before this, I might have felt losing Donna was in some ways justified because her brother or sister wouldn't have been able to exist had she gone full term. But since this hasn't happened, I don't even have THAT justification.

Saturday, February 26, 2011

Dear Donna Rose

It's been four months since I held you and every day it's a little bit harder. I should be as huge as a hippo right now, with you growing big in my belly. Every day I wake up and know that you're not there and it hurts a little bit more. Your daddy gets a little bit sadder every day too. We hold each other when we can't help but cry. Things that used to comfort us don't work so well anymore.

We've been talking with other mommies and daddies who've lost their little ones. Their stories are so sad, my dear. Some of them are in worse condition than your mommy and daddy. My heart hurts for their pain. I wish I had a magic wand that I could wave to make the world better.



Monday, February 21, 2011

My Soul Screamed

What happens when a piece of you is ripped away? Last October, this happened to me. My soul screamed. It cried in heavy anguish, "My baby! My baby!" just as in Mathew it says

"In Rama was there a voice heard, lamentation, and weeping, and great mourning, Rachel weeping [for] her children, and would not be comforted, because they are not."

So my soul cries since last October. Sometimes my heart's anguish is tempered. I can laugh on occasion. I can enjoy. BUT a piece of me is missing, and every now and again, the rip on my soul pulls wide open and I cry again "My baby! My baby!"

Sunday, February 20, 2011


Reflection only fills my heart with grief
Oppressive feelings flood my fainting mind
She came, and in her lingering all too brief
Evoked a pain most cruel, most unkind
Remembrance steals my joy, oh what a thief
Obliterating hopes and future dreams
Sleep comes to give a temp'rary relief
Evaporates with early morning beams
"Remove from me this state of endless pain!
Oh give me comfort, give me some respite!
Suppress the waves of anguish once again!"
Exclaims my soul in search of healing light
Robbed of my peace, with fate I must conspire,
Seeking to find the cure for my desire

Saturday, February 19, 2011

New Terminology

Since Donna Rose earned her wings, I've entered a society with new terminology. Brand new terms that I would never have thought of before she was gone. Below are a few of the terms I've learned.

Angel Baby - An infant who has died

Angel Mommy - A mother who's child has died

Angel Daddy - A father who's child has died

Angelversary - The anniversary of the day your child died

Cerclage - An incredibly painful procedure to sew the cervix shut to prevent miscarriage

CHD - Congenital Heart Defect

DBL - Dead Baby Land

Earned His/Her Wings - A reference to the death of a baby

BLM - Baby Loss Momma

BLP - Baby Loss Parent

Broken Heart - Intense, sometimes overwhelming feeling of grief

Death - The adversary we fought who beat us.

Fly High (baby name) - An expression of sympathy

Grief - The normal state of being for a BLM or Angel Daddy

Heaven - The place where our baby waits for us to come hold her (him)

Miscarriage - Losing a baby before 20 weeks of gestation

NICU - Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit

Pain - A piercing, agonizing feeling which crops up at the most inconvenient time.

Rainbow Baby - The first child born (and surviving) after the death of an infant

Stillbirth - Losing a baby after 20 weeks of gestation but before he/she is born

Strength - Having a good support system, because while people tell us we are strong, we are really very vulnerable and weak.

Sympathy - An attempt by people who have never been through baby loss to understand. Often is misguided and causes more pain to BLPs

TTC - Trying to conceive

Monday, February 14, 2011

A Valentine Letter

Dear Donna Rose,

Happy Valentine's Day, my tiny. I hope heaven is treating you well. I'm sure you're making lots of friends with the other angel babies up there. Your father and I miss you very much. We only had you here for a very short time, but you are always in our hearts.

Daddy was so excited for Valentine's Day three weeks ago that he gave me two Valentine cards right away. They made us both laugh. Then this morning, he woke me up before he went to class, telling me he needed help with something downstairs and gave me a big box of chocolates. I nearly cried. Your daddy is a very generous man, my dear.

Both of us have a lot of sad days right now. We try to keep each other happy, but songs, movies, TV shows, and pictures on FaceBook have a way of needling at us until all we can do is cry. We are trying to be strong and heal because we know that you're happy where you are and that Jesus is taking very good care of you, but we miss you, Donna Bear.

Last Saturday your daddy and I renewed our wedding vows. I think we wanted everyone to see that we REALLY meant what we said on the day we were married. My grandma and uncle came out for the ceremony and your Grandpa Tim was there. The church was very kind in welcoming them all and I think they felt very loved.

I miss you, my little rose.



Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Donna's story

My husband and I met on the internet on a social networking site. I was engaged to someone else at the time and I appreciated that he didn't hit on me, so we became friends. When I broke up with that other gentlemen, Ben offered to fill the text-messaging void left in my life, and so we grew closer. And then one day we were in the middle of a text message conversation and I had to do something with my hands, so I called him to finish the conversation. It entirely floored him, which made me laugh. Ben and I decided it was a good idea to meet in person. At the time, he was living nearly 300 miles away from me. He tried twice to come up and visit me, but his car broke down and he wasn't able to come to me. So eventually, I made it down to see him. I had never met anyone so gorgeous who was interested in me. You could say it was love at first sight. We've barely spent any time apart since that day. I spent as much time in his town with him as I could until he could move up with me.

One of the things we'd discussed online was our mutual desire to have children some day. We weren't being careful, so when my period was late last July, I knew that I was expecting. I took a pregnancy test right away and sure enough, it came back positive. Ben was so thrilled he was on the phone almost immediately telling people that we were looking for a larger apartment. I was a little more nervous. My family hadn't met Ben yet and I knew they would be upset with me for getting pregnant outside of wedlock. We waited some time to tell my parents after that, and I still feel guilty about the worry I felt over telling them.

My father's reaction was not what I expected. He was calm and complacent and told me to be happy. My mother hit the roof. And then the morning sickness was absolutely awful. I welcomed that, though, because to me, being sick meant that my pregnancy was healthy. Ben and I started planning our wedding and things seemed to be going well.

Then in late October, I had an abnormal pain in my abdomen. I was worried, but it wasn't until I started spotting that I really became concerned. I made Ben take me to the ER. They pulled out an ultrasound machine and told me that the amniotic fluid sack was protruding into my cervix. They thought that it was leaking, accounting for my spotting and they gave me three options. 1) Wait and see 2) Fly to Denver 3) Terminate. There was no way Ben or I would choose to terminate, we loved our little baby. Ben made the decision to have me flown to Denver.

The doctors at University hospital told me that my sack was NOT leaking, but that it was protruding and that we had three options. 1) Wait and see, 2) Attempt a procedure to push the amniotic fluid sack back and sew the cervix shut or 3) Terminate. They said chances of her surviving option 1 were slim. The chances of 2 working were 50-50. We'd already determined that option 3 was not an option for us. I chose option number 2.

While I was being transported and the doctors were examining me, Ben was getting things together and calling people to let them know that I was in the hospital and something was wrong. He called my sister to let her know things weren't going well and she called my parents. It took him several hours to join me in Denver, but once he was there he never left my side.

The doctors said that in order to do option 2, they needed to make certain that I didn't have an infection and that they could do this by taking a sample of the amniotic fluid and test it, but there was a risk that this would start labor and if labor started, they wouldn't stop it because most likely then there WAS an infection. They said that if I went into labor, she would not survive because it was too early for her lungs to be developed.

I called my parents to let them know what was going on. My mother answered and it was the first time I'd heard her voice since I told my parents I was pregnant. That was when she finally realized that my Ben was a good guy, because he stuck with me all through our ordeal and kept the family in the loop.

The doctors took a sample of amniotic fluid (Which REALLY hurt) and about half an hour later, contractions started. I had 12 grueling hours of labor, knowing that my little baby wouldn't make it. Our pastor came down while I was in labor and prayed with us. He was there when my water broke. They delivered Donna Rose, determined that her heart wasn't beating, cleaned her up a little and placed her in my arms.

Since that time, Ben and I have grown even closer. He's been amazingly strong and such a comfort to me. Our wedding was three days before Christmas. We think our little girl would be pleased that her mommy and daddy are clinging to each other trying to get through all this.