Motherhood is hard.

Being a mother is an extremely hard job. It's physically draining, a mental battle and an emotional roller coaster on the even the greatest days. Being a bereaved mother while raising a daughter who was born through my heart and not my body amplifies the job and forces me to reach for strength within myself, hoping to always have enough to push me to the next moment. 

Each morning I wake up and see my first born daughter, a perfect moment frozen in time, secured behind glass. I see her tiny toes on my way out to go kiss the tanned toes that are kicking in anticipation for her morning rescue from the crib. We return to my bed where we wake up and play. In the corner of the room her big sister watches over us and each morning my thoughts drift back and forth from daughter to daughter. Would the oldest and I have had the same morning routine? Would she have been more prone to rolling over, quieter than her sister, and would she adore her furry sister as fiercely? Racing questions are followed by the familiar pull in my chest. The loss never far, always threatening to linger for a moment too long and bring a wave of grief I have worked so hard to control. A squeal of delight breaks my train of thought and I smile as happiness replaces grief and I can't imagine life without this amazing daughter I can attack with endless kisses and tickles. 

As the years go by I will never look at my children and remark on how much they look like their daddy as they get older. They will never inherit my blue eyes or height. However I will be able to watch perfect children grow and be thankful to the birth parents to whom they resemble. I will rejoice that I was chosen to be the feisty toddlers mother and never take for granted the heartache and loss they endured to help relieve the pain of mine. 

Motherhood is hard, messy and the best damn thing I have ever done.  

Changing of the seasons.

I survived. One fall, one winter, one spring and one summer. Four seasons that were nothing how I had envisioned and prepared for but none the less they came and went and I am still here. 

Last fall my world crumbled around me and I had no idea how I was going to survive, nor was I certain I wanted to. I wanted October 3rd back when everything was perfect bliss. I longed for a redo, to turn back time, to wake up from my nightmare, anything but the hand I was dealt. I spent days crying out for a daughter taken too soon. The pain was so intense at times I felt like I would implode and would find myself screaming between sobs. I was angry, bitter, heartbroken, jealous, defeated and anxiety ridden. I lashed out at people who never deserved my sharp tongue. I pushed away people who felt as helpless for me as I did for myself. I fell into a dark hole and became a shell of the person I once was. I spent many hours torturing myself. I played back the three days I had with Livie over and over again. I made myself feel the pain and sadness repeatedly, thinking I would somehow forget if I didn't keep her at the front of my mind. There were times when I wondered if I would ever find happiness in life again. 

The loss of a child is not something I would wish on even the worst of beings. I never knew the human body was able to process and cope with such painful sadness. Yet, against all of my own odds, I am still standing. Day by day I became stronger. I made a promise to myself that it was selfish not to live my life when Olivia would never be able to live hers. I got my first tattoo in honor of my first baby girl. I traveled. I fell in love with my husband on a completely new level. I found hobbies. I embraced a new version of myself. I dug deep and I kept going. 

I wish I could go back in time now only to tell myself that it was going to be okay. My life wasn't over, in fact, it was just starting. There is not a day that passes that I don't miss my baby but I am in a better place now than I have ever been. I have survived the worst and come out on top. I am strong, confident, happy, loved and excited about the future. I wake up grateful for each day and try to make the most of it. 

All of this being said I need to praise the people who helped me through. I am so thankful for my friends and family that never gave up on me. I know it was trying to be around me. I will never forget the iced coffees, drives, all day netflix binges, shopping trips, cards, texts and surprise visits. I love you all more than you know. I would not be where I am today without the love and support you provided then and continue to provide now. I will spend the rest of my life loving you all as you have loved me. 

Six Months

Miss O-

I can't believe it is already your half birthday! There are days where it feels like its been an eternity since you were born and then there are days like today where it feels like just yesterday I was holding you for the first time. Daddy and I have been talking about you a lot, wondering what you would look like today, what your sweet little personality might be and what life would be like with you still with us.  There is not a day that goes by that my heart doesn't break for you. I would give anything just to have you with me for even an hour.

It kills me to think you might have seen me pack up your clothes, toys and books. It is in no way because I am trying to forget you, I just can't have the reminder that they are items you were never given the chance to use. I had hoped by this six month point I would have less pain but it seems the farther away I move from you the more painful it is.

This weekend is Easter and it is so sad knowing another holiday will come and go without being able to celebrate with you, it is just not fair. It keeps me up at night thinking about where you are, if you can hear me when I talk to you and if you watch over Daddy, Zelda and me. I tell myself that you're okay and you do hear me when I tell you how much I love you, but pretending and knowing are two different things.

Today I will try to be happy knowing that six months ago you made your way into this world as the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I will remember how alert you were and the look on Daddy's face as he held you for the first time. I will remember how blessed we were to have made such a perfect baby. I hope that they celebrate half birthdays in heaven as fabulously as I would have celebrated yours. I love you more than I could ever explain and miss you fiercely. Happy 1/2 Birthday little Livie!

Always & Forever,

Mommy

Balloons

A CD sat in a basket on top of all the cards Rob and I had received when Olivia passed away. I looked at it every day wondering what photos I would find when I gathered the nerve to view it. I was nervous it would bring on a flood of emotion I wouldn't be able to put back in its hidden spot within my soul. You see, this CD contained photos of Olivia's Celebration of Life.

I had no idea what the CD would contain. I never saw the photographer so I had little clue as to what she captured. I wondered if there were snapshots of me crying or clinging onto a friend or family member trying to keep myself upright. I worried I was not strong enough to see how true despair looked like on myself. I also wondered if there were photos of Rob, heartbroken, at his most vulnerable state and it would break my heart again to see him so sad. It was a mystery that I was not ready to solve until suddenly, tonight, I was.

Everything I worried about was present on the CD. Yet in all the midst of sadness and heartbreak in these photos, the most evident emotion is love. I spotted every person who has helped us along this journey and still continue to stand by us.

Looking at the photos was hard, it was emotional, but it was helpful. I was reminded how loved Olivia was and how lucky Rob and I are to have such a large support system. I enjoyed seeing the looks on peoples faces as they watched in awe as the balloons floated up and away to join our sweet Livie. I had forgotten what a beautiful day it was, complete with a beautifully clear and blue sky.

Rob and I are so blessed to have such beautiful reminders of the support and outpour of loved we received on such a difficult day. I hope you enjoy some of them as much as I did.

Our Balloon Brigade will never know how much I love them.

Hope

"Let Hope Be The Anchor To Your Soul"

There is something extremely terrifying yet comforting at the same time about having hope. You can watch your wildest dreams come true or watch them crash and burn. You won't know the outcome until you take that leap of faith.

For me, I chose to jump and hold on for dear life and it has made all the difference.

Rob and I made the decision to adopt a baby in our year of hope and health. Since making this decision things have seemed to fall into place. We have started talking about our future again and all the exciting plans that come with welcoming a tiny human into the world. I've been able to start sorting through all of Olivia's clothes, toys and equipment, setting aside things her little sister will be able to use and enjoy. Our cabinets are filled with bottles, bibs and all things pink.  The hope that wells up inside of us is almost too much to contain.

If you would have asked me four months ago if we would ever reach this point the answer would have been no. The world was dark and hopeless. Somewhere along the way we knew that in order to see the life we could have, and deserved, we needed to believe again. We needed to believe we would be parents, we would have our family and we would make sure to cherish every last second of it when it happened.

It gives us comfort thinking that God has a bigger and better plan for us in life. We are being handed the opportunity to give a baby a dream life she might not have had otherwise. We will be able to tell her all about her big sister Livie and how she is the reason we now to get to love her fiercely for life. We will instill the knowledge that everything happens for a reason and to never give up on your dreams.

Livie was the best thing that has happened to Rob and myself and she continues to bless us each day. We look forward to the day we get to welcome her little sister into the world and thank her endlessly for watching over us.

#LLFL

Baby Steps

In my quest to Live Life for Livie I decided to start taking care of myself physically and began working out. Yesterday, as I was finishing with my workout, my trainer told me something that really resonated with me.

"It's all about tiny steps but before you know it you have climbed a mountain without even realizing it."

The more I thought about it the more I realized how true it is.

I still think about Olivia all day, everyday, but I don't cry as often. I have started leaving my house on a more frequent basis and have even done my hair and put on make up a few times. Rob and I have made new friendships. We actively persue ideas we always talked about but never put them into action. Most importantly, I have started to have hope again.

Three and a half months ago I thought all of these things were lost. I was just trying to survive each day and hope the next day wouldn't be as painful. Each day since Olivia passed has been a baby step and today I realized I have climbed a mountain.

I know I still have many mountains to climb but I can't be worried about the future anymore. I need to focus on the present and make today count. I am thankful for each day and each tiny step. I am thankful that I was given a beautiful angel to change my life. She taught me to be appreciative of the baby steps and the small things. I forgive more quickly, look more positively at negative situations, seek to actively participate in life rather than being a bystander, and to love the people who have held my hand during my baby steps more deeply.

I am a better person than I was on October 3rd and I owe it all to my greatest accomplishment, Olivia Buchanan Huber. I am excited to look back in another 3 months and see what other mountains I have climbed. There is nothing I cannot accomplish if I am doing it for her.

#livelifeforlivie

2015

I have never been a fan of surprises. I am a know it all by nature and it makes me feel crazy not to get all the details on any given situation. I will never understand how men can have an entire conversation about engagements, births, vacations and various life events and come away with zero details. I will forever envy persons who can accept the unknown.

I find myself  struggling even more this week as we received the final test results on Olivia.

Unable to determine a diagnosis.

I have started coping with her passing with the hopes of having a concrete diagnosis I could wrap my head around. I was certain they would come back with the exact mutated gene and we could begin a plan on how to prevent it in further pregnancies. Instead, I am left with so many lingering questions and a mystery death.

How can an innocent and seemingly perfect baby pass away without an explanation? Of all the things that are unfair this seems the most trying. I feel the disappointment pound in my chest each time I tell someone she has passed but I am unable to tell them why. I feel compelled to tell them the entire story so I don't appear to be an unfit mother who just casually claims I don't know.

I had begun trying to heal myself from Olivia's passing but feel I have taken the inevitable two steps back with the unfortunate non diagnosis. It seems to cruel to leave me wondering when I had planned on an explanation.

Rob and I now face tough decisions we never imagined we would have to. However, we refuse to give up on our babies, both past and present, our marriage, our friends and families and our life. We will continue to face each hurdle as the come and conquer them hand in hand. I ask that you please don't give up on us though, or anyone else struggling for that matter. Time doesn't stop for the broken-hearted and neither should we.

2014 was the most joyous  and most devastating year of my life and as quickly as it came it has passed. I pray with all of my being that if 2015 decides to throw me some surprises they can be more positive than negative. I plan to make this year and each year I am granted worth living. My new life motto is Live Life for Livie and I invite you all to join me.

2015 - The year of Hope and Health.