Wednesday, December 7, 2016

There is Purpose in your Name


I felt you so close to my heart today and not in a go crawl into a corner and cry way (even though I did cry missing you today, but I only cried a short amount which is really big for me). But today I felt close to you in the way where I am finding some purpose that I can do in your name. I want to help other mother's like me and I want to pray for babies like you (even though you are my one of a kind sweet angel). I want to bring hope in a hopeless situation or I want to help spread the peace God brings to mother's like me who miss precious angel's like you.

I have a friend who had the "terrible" no good appointment of being told her fluid was gone. That her little girl, Claire, had 5-10% chance of living. It brings me back to hearing that you had a 2% chance of living. My mind selfishly went to you. Then I dropped my head and prayed for the family and for peace and healing. God still surrounds me with His peace, and I hope to share His peace with others.

Ryles, I'll never know what your laughter sounded like. I'll never get a text from a teacher telling me that you cried about missing me. I'll never get to see you sit in Santa's lap physically. I'll miss so many things like that. But you are a part of every. single. thing. I. do. You are a part of me that will never die. My soul will even carry your memory into Heaven one day. And until then, I am going to keep searching for purpose, for acts of love to do in your honor and to show Christ's love that's been poured out for us this year. Mommy is starting her hormones again tonight. I should be a nut job for a couple of weeks. Holidays without you and hormones shall be an "interesting cocktail" of emotions. But I am thankful to remember your life. I am thankful for the medicines that will help to one day get pregnant with your brother and sister, but I would give anything to change our journey.

I often see parents rightfully being sad that their children are growing so fast. (I know I would have done the same thing if you were born). But for the record, I would have given anything for you to hit a week, a month, a year. But I don't judge them for what they say, because I am not on their journey, just as they are not on mine. If I have learned anything it is that we are all on our own journey in life. We all face disappointments from time to time, we all face loss, regret, and all of the other bad things. But one thing all of us humans have in common is that we are God's children. We are loved and we have purpose (even if we are still in our "searching years". Your life had purpose baby girl and I hope that the name Ryleigh will provide a sense of peace or love to someone. I hope women like me may see that I've been on their journey and that can understand that someone half way understands them. I hope you always know that I strive to make you proud.

Today, during rainy day recess I let my students watch "Family Circus Christmas" a cartoon I adored as a child. I quietly teared up wishing I could share a piece of my childhood with you the way I do my students. But then I realize once again, you know all of me. You are created of me. You are in a place where Jesus can show you my heart. I'm glad you'll never suffer the pain so many have to, but I'll always wish I could have changed things for you. I love you to Heaven and back. -Mommy

Tuesday, December 6, 2016

Short Ramblings

I had another decent day. Two in a row with only one cry that lasted under a minute. That's so good for me. It's weird to explain that I emotionally hurt deep down every day, but I can suppress it better some days than others. My hormone tomorrow should change this emotionally positive mood tomorrow and for the next two weeks I will likely cry my emotions that I feel I have no control over out. I tell myself every month, I will not let the medicine alter my emotions. I will be strong. I will lean on God... and while I do still lean on God, my emotions win when progesterone plays a roll. But I love the medicine. I love getting smileys saying that my body is capable of another child, a sibling for our girl. It is so worth every tear. Our children are so worth every sacrifice we make and I hope I do a great job of showing them one day.

I am tired, so I am turning in rather early. <3 Love you much. --Ryle's mom

I love you sweet girl.

Monday, December 5, 2016

Open Wounds Turn to Scars

I had a good emotional day, which means it was a busy day. As always I pray to God and I talk to my daughter on the way to work, but today wasn't a crying day. Today was a forcing myself to listen to a talk show the whole way to work type of day. An escape from reality if you will... but those days sting a little because I carry some guilt because I know that with time this hurt will fade. I recognize it even now as the tears come less often. I remember the fresh wounds of my grandparents death and how over time the wound was not so fresh. I recall how one day I woke up and realized I had accepted their death and while it hurts still to miss them, the type of hurt changed. It's like a cut, when it's new it hurts so bad for someone to bump it... but then a scar forms. You never forget the pain that came with the scar, but it stings less. The scar stands as a reminder of a deep hurt, that doesn't hurt so much anymore. I fear the day Ryleigh becomes a scar on my heart. For some reason I fear the emotionally healing that I already feel, because I am so scared it will make her less a part of who I am. But I reason with myself, she will always be who I am. I will never love her any less. I will always miss her, even if I don't cry every day.

I realize it is hard for anyone to truly grasp our loss, because it is our baby. I see her pictures that I have in the empty nursery all the time. (Yes, I occasionally do walk in, more than likely to get the Roomba un-stuck or to hear her heart beat elephant, and yes I have photos up from when she was still with us). But I choose not to share because I don't want people to feel hurt for us when they see her pictures. I don't want the pictures to represent our loss, I want them to represent life. & they do. I swear there is so much love in one picture that I framed that it's become a favorite. I don't cry at it any longer. I smile most times. I am so thankful for memories.

I have a lock box of her things. After she passed, I often sat in front of it for a long time sifting through the items that were hers. Her footprints, photos, cards people sent, scriptures written while I was giving birth. Then the last thing I would do before putting the box away was sniff the hat she wore. It smells like the pink bottle of Johnson baby lotion and a mixture that is her sweet baby scent. I fear one day I will smell that hat and the scent will be gone, actually I know it will. Because just like the wound that heals into a scar --the scent will fade too. Life will move on. That is the hardest thing I face--is knowing that life will go on, and it will do so without our kid by my side. That is a hard pill to swallow. But one I must learn to swallow, because I recently made a choice that I don't want to live life miserable and bitter. I want to be a great person. I want to represent Jesus in a real way. I want to give to the poor, help the lonely, be an aid to women who face loss like me, I want to live a great life that impacts the world. I don't want to be miserable. I want to be a mother who makes her daughter and God proud.

I so enjoy church now. I feel closer to God at church and while I draw closer to the Lord, I feel closer to our daughter. & I am learning acceptance of God's will. I view Bible stories differently. I think of Noah. I often think of the fisher-price version of here is a man in a boat with some animals and there's a rainbow at the end... but can you imagine what he really went through? The mourning over the loss of his friends? The anxiety as waters arose around him and he didn't see land? Then I think of Sarah in the Bible who spent years wanting a child, I have never stopped to think about how often she cried and worried... but what I like about all of those stories is the fact that they have a good ending. Now, Ryleigh's death was not a good ending... but actually her death was not an ending... it was a beginning of eternal life. As Christians, we never have a true ending. We have eternity of happiness. That is where I find my strength. That is why I can write this blog without blubbering like a fool. (Now grant it I am not on my hormones this week, so this can change, give it a couple of days).

I am longing for the spring. I look forward to it. Spring means life and hopefully I'll be finding out that there is more life inside of me to add to our family then. I won't have time for super sappy blogs when John or Allyson come, and I look forward to giving up the old me and giving our kiddos 110% of who I am to ensure their happiness. Until then, I'll try to appreciate where I am now in life. I pray that if you read this, you realize I am really doing what I consider well. I also hope you know it is my outlet and not used to reach out for pity. It's just me writing about life.

Oh, and don't be afraid that you complaining about a bad day will hurt my feelings. I have bad days too that don't have anything to do with our loss. It's called being human--you are allowed to say you spilled your coffee and it was a bad day. No need for apologies.

Lots of love and hugs... ~Ryleigh's Mom~ P.S. my love for you never changes.

Saturday, December 3, 2016

The Pain Jesus Knew He Would Endure, but He Did All Things in Love

We watched a movie about aliens tonight, yet somehow it still made me think of Ryleigh. At one point the woman in the movie got to see her whole life ahead of time, she saw the magical good times she would face in her life... and she saw the painful gut-wrenching moments. She saw her daughter dying of a rare disease. She saw her husband leaving... and despite knowing the pain that was in her future she did not choose to alter her future. She chose to live her life and embrace every good moment, even knowing the future would bring pain.

If I ever had the opportunity to choose meeting Ryleigh despite knowing I couldn't alter her destiny, I would choose meeting Ryleigh every. single. time. Even if I had to experience the greatest pain of my life, because I had those moments of greatness. I had those nights of her touching me from the inside of my stomach, those moments I held her, the seconds of her looking in our eyes. The love that entered my heart the day I became a mother will never be able to be described in words.

And then I think, I bet Jesus knew what he was to endure. He knew his friends would deny him, He knew that he would suffer undeniable pain in the name of love... and He went through it all anyways. There is no deeper love than that. I understand the sacrifice he made for us better now.

I'll never be able to describe how much of me is missing and how much of me died with her that day. And how the tears don't stop over night. And how I miss who I was, but would not change a thing at the same time.

God is the only one himself that knows the grief I still endure, and how I want the grief to go away. But how I don't want it to at the same time, because my pain shows she existed.

I miss you Ryleigh with every single ounce of me. I love you.