A Corner for Avery

It’s a toss up for me as to which is the worst part of my child dying. On one hand it’s the nightmares, I don’t always remember them but it’s as if I’m half awake and half sleeping. Part of me knowing I’m dreaming and the other part gives into the dream reality. Regardless I wake up with amnesia for a few minutes before I remember I’m not pregnant anymore and my baby’s in Heaven now. On the other hand it’s going out in public that’s hardest for me. Routes we drove that day transport me right back to the trauma and being around people just reminds me of the…

After three weeks I have to admit there are moments when the light shines through; moments that I believe strongly in everything I read that says Avery was chosen for God’s larger plan, bigger than all the plans I had for him. These moments almost make me forgot not my sweet boy of course but the huge hole saying goodbye to him has left in my heart. I look forward to the day where I can remember the time I had with him fondly instead of bursting into tears and being overwhelmed with grief. Days where these light moments stretch into minutes then hours then days are coming; I can…

Follow up appointments have been some of the hardest things I’ve had to face in the last few weeks. For starters it is right next to the hospital so the entire ride there my mind is racing and recreating the emergency trip we took there nearly three weeks ago. We get stopped at the same light where I stare out the window remembering how scary it was so feel the blood gushing out and knowing everything was not okay.  I must say that the staff has been super compassionate and have made it as comfortable as possible for us. They make my appointments first in the morning, before the doctors…

I’m looking forward to a time when I stop thinking in terms of the number of days it’s been since I’ve seen my sweet little boy’s face for the first and last time. Or calculating in my head how many weeks pregnant I “should be”. I say should be and stop myself because if it was God’s plan for me to be 36 pregnant right now I would be. But my baby has a different home than the one I thought I’d bring him to and Heaven is a better place than any I could have given him. Only thing I can do is bring a little bit of Avery’s…

a lot of people that have reached out to provide comfort have said “I’m sorry this happened”. Although a good portion of the day I spend drowning in grief, I will learn to live on without Avery here on earth but I would never wish he never happened. If loving him long distance from here to Heaven is the only way I can love him for the rest of my life then that’s how I will love him. I have no other choice but to love him; he grew in my belly doing somersaults with hiccups for nearly 34 weeks this year. So yes I have a lot to be…

Jordan says “Avery is ready to be picked up”. Right away my mind jumps to “picked up from where” or “what fun place are we taking him”. But he just means his urn is ready to be picked up from the funeral home. My angel baby’s urn is a beautiful baby block. It will be beautiful as the center piece for Avery’s corner in the living room. I haven’t left the house much in the last two weeks but this was my only opportunity to bring my son home. 

Ten days since I had to say hello and goodbye to you sweet little man. I keep waiting for this veil people tell me will lift and although I will not get over it,  some sense of normalcy will return. The concept I’ve struggled with the most during this tragic time is the term “lost pregnancy”. Lots of books and resources refer to what happened to me as this. I didn’t lose my pregnancy or my baby and I have to get my self to stop saying that. My baby died so that he could go to Heaven to be God’s angel. I was too good a mama to him…