Welcome

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

Thursday, March 8, 2012

Dear Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

Today should have been your first birthday.  I should be baking you a cake, buying balloons and ice cream, and wrapping presents. We should have spent the day playing together, just celebrating getting through one year of your life. I miss you so much, my dear. Not a day goes by that I don't think of you.

Love,

Mommy

Friday, February 24, 2012

Dear Donna Rose

My dear daughter,

It seems that mommy will have more time to write to you these days.  The doctor decided that we need to be cautious with your little brother and has put me on bed rest for the next three months. I'm hoping this works out and that your little brother grows to full term before he is born.  Reading my baby books makes me think of you.  I never got to this point in pregnancy with you, but my books are now talking about labor and delivery.  It reminds me of the day we lost you.  I remember the painful contractions and how they hurt more and more the further I got along.  I remember allowing them to give me stronger and stronger medications to ease the pain because I was hurting so much emotionally that I couldn't handle more pain on top of it.  I remember finally falling asleep after they gave me the epidural and then waking up when the pain got to be too much for the epidural to ease.  I remember the sensation of my water breaking and how short a time it took for you to be born after that.  I remember holding your precious little body for the first time.  You were already gone, but we needed to touch you and to see you. I remember the pain in your daddy's face. I remember dressing you in the clothing they gave us for you. I remember marveling over the perfection of your tiny body.  I remember how your arms and legs seemed so long, just like your daddy. I remember your tiny, perfect fingers with their finger nails.  I remember the kind nurse who took pictures of you for us. I remember being moved to a recovery room and your daddy going to get tamales and ice cream.  The owner of the tamale place prayed for us with your daddy. I remember holding your cold body one last time before we left the hospital.  It was so hard to know I could never hold you again. I'd held you for 5 months inside me, and now I'd never get to hold you any more. I listened to your memorial service again this week. Your daddy found the CD as we were packing up stuff to move yet again. I scrambled last minute to find scripture and songs for the service.  The church played every song I suggested and read every scripture I had picked. I love you so much, Donna Rose.  I will always remember.

Love,

Mommy

Thursday, January 19, 2012

News for my angel

Dear Donna Rose,

I just wanted to let you know that you have a little brother.  He's quickly approaching the age you were when we lost you. His ultrasounds look very different from our ultrasounds of you. You looked a lot like your daddy. I think your little brother probably looks more like me. He has very chubby cheeks. I wonder if you would be excited now if you were here with us. I know you would have been a wonderful big sister. I miss you more than I can say.

Love,

Mommy

Tuesday, January 3, 2012

Dear Donna Rose

My dearest Donna Rose,

Oh how I miss you. It hardly seems possible that it has been more than a year since I carried you inside me. Now, with your little brother or sister living there, I am reminded of what it was like to have you inside me, to feel you move.

I picked up my copy of "Oh Baby, the places you'll go!" yesterday to read to your sibling. I remember reading it to you with so much love. I had no idea the place you would go included heaven and that the wonderful friends you would meet would not include your daddy and me. I wept through the last pages.

I find that I can't sing to your sibling without a tremor in my voice because I remember the songs I sang to you. Your song was "Lida Rose" from The Music Man, but I always sang it as Donna Rose. That used to be one of my favorite movies, but now I can't watch it without crying.

My life is very different from what it was before you came. There are some very good changes, but also some things that I wish weren't so. I'm so glad I have your daddy. He's the very best part of my life. Your grandpa and grandma (my mommy and daddy) are so good to us too and you have lots of loving aunts and uncles who are sad they never got to meet you.

I'm a lot more fearful than I used to be. When I carried you, I didn't worry very much about the aches and pains. My body was changing for the first time. It was stretching to fit you inside. I worried about school, I worried about the future, but I never worried about you until the day we lost you. With your brother/sister, every ache scares me. Every pain screams "you could lose this baby too!" I am not so innocent anymore. It bothers me to see clueless, happy pregnant women. I want to warn them that you're never safe from losing your baby. Sometimes I really have to bite my tongue. I'm getting better at that, though. People get very offended if you suggest that pregnancy isn't just a walk in the park and a joyful thing.

I am hoping that I continue to grow this year. I hope it gets easier to be joyful and less easy to be terrified. I am hoping that your brother/sister will grow to full term and have a chance to live outside my womb. I still have so much growing to do.

I love you, Donna Rose. I wish I could watch you grow and live.

Love,

Mommy

Sunday, December 11, 2011

Christmas

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.