Forever

I will live forever without my daughter. For the rest of my time on this earth. Possibly 70+ years. This is the part that is getting to me lately. I hate that I will be changed forever. For the rest of my life. I'm trying to come to terms with the fact we will never have Stella back. Never. But this means the rest of my life will be affected. Literally, everyday, all day, for the rest of my life. I might hopefully (God willing) have other living children someday. Maybe 3 or 4 babies, but I will still be missing my first baby. My first daughter, maybe my only daughter. Forever. I will always be curious about what she would have been, what she would have looked like, what she would be doing… The wonder will never stop, until the day I am with her again. Yes, I'm young and sure I can have other babies, maybe. But, my other babies will never replace Stella. And, I will forever be a bereaved mother, a mother without her first child. This will affect how I parent our other children. This will affect who I am as a wife. A daughter. A sister. Stella will be missing from everything we ever do. All of our future children will be missing their older sister. Our lives will never be perfectly full again. And it just angers me that this is a "forever" experience. Though, I would never want it to be different, because we will always want to include Stella in our lives. She is making us who we are, everyday. It's all just more difficult than it should be. And it will forever be. 

We will love and miss you forever, Stella. And losing you will make a difference in our lives, forever. 

Peaceful place

Peace. A place I'm apparently only allowed to go to for brief periods of time. This post was supposed to be about something beautiful, that gave us a great sense of peace and comfort today. But in our unfortunate world, one day cannot only exist of one emotion. It had to go from anxious to peaceful to bitter, jealous, angry…call it what you want.

It's hard to believe that just 19 Wednesdays ago we were headed to the hospital assuming baby Stella would be born… Instead Stella died, and today we went to donate all of the money we have received for Stella's Memorial to the Make-A-Wish Foundation. What a difference a few weeks make.

That being said, today we feel as though we did something very special. Something that all of our beloved family and friends helped us do. Something we will forever hold dear to our hearts. With our family and friends contributions, we donated almost $6,000 to the Make-A-Wish Foundation on behalf of Stella St. Clair Phelan. That is enough money to grant one child a "wish" in honor of Stella. These "wishes" include traveling to a dream destination, meeting a Disney character, etc. And the only way for a child to qualify for one of these wishes, is they must have a life threatening disease or terminal illness. Let us just say, we don't envy those parents. We got to choose to grant a wish for a young girl that wants to travel somewhere, since we love to travel and Stella would have traveled the world with us. They will tell us more as they find this little girl and what her wish is. 

The overwhelming sense of peace this created in our hearts is indescribable. We are helping a family, that is likely going to bury their own baby girl someday, grant their daughter a wish that would otherwise be impossible. Stella, with her precious life, lost way too soon, is helping another little girl fulfill her dream while here on earth.

Mark also decided he will be hosting an annual golf tournament in November, in honor of Stella St. Clair, with all donations going to Make-A-Wish. We have been wanting to find a way to honor our sweet baby girl, every year, for as long as we can. Since we will miss her and and dream of her everyday, we want others to remember her as well. What a better way, than an annual golf tournament…something already close to her daddy's heart. 

We went to dinner after our meeting at Make-A-Wish. Feeling positive, courageous, and peaceful for once. Of course, a family had to come in with a little girl they couldn't control and treated terribly. Then a family had to come sit right next to us with a little girl, little boy, and an infant in a carseat. Awesome. Too close for comfort, too jealous, and they just had no clue. One day that might hurt less, one day. 

So, we've realized once again, the world won't stop turning, as much as we would like it to. We go to bed every night without Stella. We wake up every morning without Stella. Just like we will for the rest of our lives. But since life must move forward, Stella's legacy will live on and she will be remembered forever. We can never have her back, but we will make sure everyone knows about her, no one will forget her, as long as we live. 

We will be providing more information about the Make-A-Wish Foundation and the Stella St. Clair Memorial in the coming weeks. We love you baby girl and you are doing wonderful things here on earth, because you are gone. Thank you. 

Time and faith

For the second Sunday in a row at church, they have played "On Eagle's Wings." The song we played at your funeral, baby Stella. The song we buried our daughter to. I'm not going to lie, today I left immediately as it started. I maybe heard 20 seconds of the song, ran to the parking lot, got in the car, turned on the radio, and still couldn't stop crying for a good 5 minutes. Last week, I listened to the entire song on repeat in the pew next to your daddy. We cried and cried, as we were taken back to the 2nd worst day of our lives. The day we buried our baby girl. I just couldn't do it again today. It's too big of a trigger that takes me too far back, to a dark, ugly place on this unbelievable journey. Maybe with time, it will become a less painful memory, and more peaceful as we learn how to honor you better. Maybe with a little more time.

Church in general has been a difficult place for us since this journey began. There's a lot of talk about peace, joy, death, eternal life, and things that are closer to our hearts than we ever imagined. And although, church is difficult, I'm starting to believe we need it now more than we ever have before. I've unfortunately met several people with similar trials and loss in their lives, and the common theme of faith continues to show up. Giving it up to God. Knowing there is bigger purpose here on earth. Believing that our pain has meaning, and that joy is still to come.

"Very truly I tell you, you will weep and mourn while the world rejoices. You will grieve, but your grief will turn to joy. So with you: Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy." (John 16: 20, 22)

Very simply, God tell us we will have pain and suffering. We will have grief. If we choose to follow Him, we will have unfortunate and unhappy times. We weren't put on this earth only for pleasure or comfort. We are here to suffer. But if we do follow Him with all our hearts, what's coming must be so great. Beyond our human understanding. They say the pain is for a little while, but the joy will last for forever. So, if I have to live on this earth without my baby girl, but I can have faith that it is just for a short time, while we are on our way to where we all truly want to be… a place of joy and peace for eternity. Then so be it. We have no choice and we can't do it alone.

Time and faith. Two things you apparently must have when you are forced down the road of learning to live without your child.

Love you, my precious baby girl.

If only

Wednesday, the day we met hell on earth. Wednesday, the day you went straight to God's arms. If I never had to see another Wednesday, I would be ok with that… if only I had that choice.

Your Ring

Your ring arrived today. The custom designed Stella St. Clair ring, that I will wear everyday in your memory and your honor. I don't get my baby girl, so I get a ring instead. Sounds pitiful and sad. It is. But, it is also beautiful and perfect, just like you. We cried when I got it, we do that a lot. But it just means so much to us since we designed it to specifically memorialize you. Our world. I have your daddy to thank for this special tribute to you. He insisted : )

It's a precious topaz, your birthstone. November. There are 6 baguette diamonds for your birthday, the 6th. And my favorite part… 38 little round diamonds to represent the 38 blissful weeks you were alive, here on earth with us. Safe and sound in my belly. It's hard to believe that just 18 weeks ago you were still alive in my belly. I would give anything in this world to feel those moments with you again. 

Instead, you'll be with me all day, everyday, on my hand and in my heart. Forever. 

Life 1 year ago

March 10, 2013-- The day I learned I was pregnant with you, Stella St. Clair. I don't even know how to explain that day, those feelings… Excited. Nervous. Thrilled. Naive. We had all we ever dreamed of, and more. Yet, here we are exactly one year later, and you are not here. We are not excited, nervous, thrilled, or naive. We are sad, anxious, angry, and devastated. What a difference a year makes. 

Fast forward to March 10, 2014-- Instead of learning I'm pregnant with the daughter of my dreams, I get that remember that not only am I not a mom to a 4 month old baby girl, like I should be, but I'm not pregnant with my rainbow baby either. So much for all the "rainbow" signs, songs, hopes, and dreams in the month of February.  They were clearly all a figment of my messed up human imagination. A wish not to be granted. An prayer not to be answered. All for naught. Now we are up against at least one more month without a baby in our arms. One more month, that feels like an eternity, desiring something we should already have right in front of us. Everyday without you or one of your siblings in my arms, feels like a thousand years. No one should ever have to feel these empty arms, that literally ache to hold and rock a baby. I have no doubt, days like today are going to make this indescribable journey we are on even longer, even rougher, even more challenging. Not that I believe we need more of a challenge in our lives, but I suppose what doesn't kill you does make you stronger, or so they say. Another "saying" that we are unfortunately going to be forced to put to the test. 

Have a good evening celebrating your buddy's 5 months in Heaven. We are envious of you both. We believe one day you both will grant us the peace, joy, and happiness we all deserve. Our hearts ache for you with a pain no human should have to endure. 

Miss you beyond words

Your grandparents left today. Grandpa Bill and Grandma Julie. They were here the last 3 weeks. They originally planned to be here that long to spend time with you. I miss them already. Your grandma was going to watch you while I was at work. It was difficult for all of us to feel the obvious, empty void that was missing from their visit. You. But at the same time it was so wonderful to spend time with them. We talked about you almost non-stop. Sometimes it was through tears. Sometimes it was through pain. Misery. Disbelief. But, most of the time it was through joy. The unbelievable joy and fun we all had preparing for you. We were all so innocent and naive when I was pregnant with you. Everything was just blissful and happy. Thank you for those times, baby Stella. They were some of the best times in all of our lives. 

We are all grieving for you. All day, everyday. We will never "accept" this loss. But we will come together as a family and move forward, not move on. But forward. We have to, life keeps going. We have no choice and we all know you wouldn't want us to stay where we are, suffering. Our family is loving and strong. We always have each other. We have faith in God and you. We will somehow survive.

I love you, Stella St. Clair.