The other day Levi had his first "official" swim lesson and boy was he ecstatic. As soon as we entered the pool area I couldn't get him to calm down, he incessantly pointed to the pool, screaming "Wa Wa" at the top of his lungs while squirming ferosciously to wiggle out of my arms. Levi loves to take on new adventures, sometimes keeping Mommy and Daddy on their toes a little too often but we welcome it nonetheless. He's just so amazing, usually a very happy kid with a strong will and yet so incredibly loving. As I watched his Dad take him into the pool for his "waterbabies" class I watched with a full heart at how much this little child had grown up and how much life he gives to us. I watched as Levi learned to turn his head to the side, as he put on little flippers and learned to kick in the water and how he unwillingly floated on his back for a few seconds (not his favorite thing!) While I watched Levi learn all of the new and exciting movements and experience sensations he had never felt before all I could think of while watching is how much learning to swim reminds me of life after loss. A bunch of un-natural movements and feelings that when learned and accepted turn into something beautiful, something that allows us to move forward and onward through rough patches, allowing us to breathe if we know how and sometimes throwing a bit of unexpectedness our way.
Learning to swim is not an easy task. I know the difficulties it has since I taught it for such a long time (learning from the best since my Dad taught swim lessons for over 30 years). It's a lot of unusual and odd motions, it's learning to breathe and stay afloat , it's learning to move forward when your body just wants to sink and it's putting all these acts into one glorious movement to get you where you want to be. It usually starts with a kick, the most common of all the kicks is the "flutter" kick, where you quickly move your feel up and down. It's what helps propel you through the water, it's the piece that brings power to this new experience . But that's not all that it takes to keep you afloat, it's just the first piece of the puzzle to helping you learn. Then comes the arms, large screwy movements that are in an entirely different rhythm to your legs. A movement that when performed perfectly helps push the water down and behind you in order to move you faster and faster; allowing you to achieve your goal much more efficiently and smoothly. When your fingers don't grasp the water in just the perfect way though or your elbow doesn't bend at just the right angle when coming out of the water you may lose momentum. One small abnormal movement may hinder your progress forward and require you to work a little harder to catch up. But alas, even with all of this you still have one more key component to be taught... You need to learn to breathe.
Continuing on with life after losing Harper has to be one of the hardest things I've ever had to, it's a daily struggle to find the beauty within this experience. It's learning to ride the waves and power through them when they decide to hit; it's knowing ahead of time that some waves are bigger than others and you must find a way to breathe, even though it may be difficult at times. It's learning that sometimes you may not have the strength to power through, so instead you flip to your back and float through them, watching them carry you as you go. But the hardest part of losing Harper, and the hardest part of swimming, is learning and remembering to breathe in this new environment. It's Hard. As soon as I feel like I've discovered how to power through, a new wave hits and I find myself gasping for air; looking for the fastest way out of this wave of emotions. And sometimes I'm able to power through, kicking with all of my might and sometimes I've learned to let the emotions take me on this journey and I willingly flip to my back and ride them out. Sometimes that's the safest route to get to where you are going, because the more you fight the more resistance you might encounter. Similar to being sucked into a rip tide, where it is safest to swim parallel to shore until the tide brings you closer to land.
Harper has taught me so much about myself, she's helped me understand that suffering and pain come from a beautiful place, a place where love is so abundant and so flourishing that it can become endless. She's also taught me that pain is pain, and sometimes that pain will never go away but that doesn't have to stop us from leading a fulfilling life. You can't let pain be the wave that pulls you under and never lets you breathe again. At times you will find yourself holding your breath as the water pours over you, but with each breath will come a new breath and new understanding of what you just encountered. You come out stronger and better because next time you will understand the fight a little bit more. Never Give Up.
So today I will kick a little harder and breathe a little deeper as I put together another broken piece on this unimaginable journey. Today I will bask in the glory of finding a love so deep and so pure; a love that will one day bring me back to my daughter again.
Wednesday, June 29, 2016
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Daddy's Girl
Lately, I haven't been feeling very strong but in true "Kate" fashion, I've been trying harder than ever to not let it change me, to not let it affect me and to not let it control my life. But there is one person in my life who sees it everyday, one person who knows that I struggle often and knows that sometimes the darkness tries to prevail. The same person who I also know will never let the darkness overcome, who will pull me up every single time that my knees make me crumble to the ground and who will willingly stand next to me each time and willingly do it all again. That person, as most of you might know, is my husband, Adam and it only feels fitting to tell you all about the amazing man that he is while celebrating Father's Day.
There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that tells me I would not be where I am today, living the way I am today and finding the beauty in today if it were not for the rock that stands next to me each and every day. There was no way Adam was going to let this devastating situation change who we were in a negative way, there was no way he was going to let the sadness conquer us and there was no way he was going to remember his daughter in any other way but as a fighter. He was there to comfort when I needed to be comforted, he was there to hold my hand when it needed to be held and he was also there to say "Kate, get moving" when all I wanted to do was hide. But not only is he an amazing husband but also an amazing father.
Before we had Levi I had never watched Adam hold a baby. I would always wonder what kind of parent each of us would be and how we would cope with all of the new responsibilities. We had met so early in life that sometimes I still think of us as our 16 year old selves and it's hard to imagine us any other way. When Levi was born though, it was natural, it was instinct and it was pure love at first site. Adam was on top of things, I honestly don't think I changed a single diaper in the hospital. He was ready to take on this new adventure and he was seriously the best at it with such little practice. I remember I would watch in awe as this strong and independent man would cradle our newborn so delicately and so effortlessly. How could I seriously love this man anymore? and yet there I was, finding myself falling more and more in love with him.
This past year, Adam's parenting skills were most definintely put to the test when I was hospitalized for four weeks while Harper and Mommy were under strict orders to take it easy. I was so fearful of how this would all play out because Adam was in the middle of busy season and Levi was beginning his "Mr. Independent" stage. Adam never flinched though, he never called me in a panic, he never complained and he made being a parent look so incredibly easy. He made sure we could face time each morning (when Mommy was awake to do it) and they would visit every single night in the hospital. Levi continued to flourish in school and everyday life and I watched that little 18 month old grow up so much with the guidance of his Dad along the way.
I have to admit though, there were times I was terrified that I was having a girl because after having a boy I felt that a girl was just a complete game changer. I'm not sure why I would get these sudden urges of fear but it would usually distance itself within a few moments. There was one thing I did always look forward too when we found out we were having a girl; that was watching Adam become a dad to a baby girl. I couldn't wait to watch their relationship blossom and used to always joke with Adam that I bet Levi would turn into a "Momma's Boy" and Harper would turn into a "Daddy's Girl". Adam would unknowingly light up a bit when we would talk about this because I knew he was ready. When I would ask are you excited it's a girl he would always answer without hesitation "Yes". I can't even begin to describe how amazing this man is because I don't think my limited vocabulary will do him justice. I seriously am so blessed, have I told you that enough times yet?
To this day my favorite memory will always be when I put little Miss Harper into her Dad's arms. Adam never took his eyes off of her sweet face and each time he kissed her a piece of my shattered heart was put back together. This was what I was going to miss most, the bonding and the completeness that our family was never going to feel again. We are always going to feel a little empty with Miss Harper so far away but we know that she is here with us each and every day holding our hands and helping us in every way she knows possible.
So this Father's Day I want to acknowledge all of the Dad's out there who are missing a piece of themselves today. I want us all to remember that behind every "strong" bereaved mother there is most likely a Dad helping to the put the pieces together as well. I know Dad's don't tend to show the outward signs of healing, but their insides were just as shattered as ours and require immense mending to heal the brokenness. So this Father's Day I'm going to pick up another broken piece on this unimaginable journey and together Adam and I will rebuild this path so that one day we are able to see our sweet daughter once again and Adam can hold his "daddy's girl" faithfully in his arms.
Happy Father's Day Adam!! * Love Levi and Sweet Harper *
There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that tells me I would not be where I am today, living the way I am today and finding the beauty in today if it were not for the rock that stands next to me each and every day. There was no way Adam was going to let this devastating situation change who we were in a negative way, there was no way he was going to let the sadness conquer us and there was no way he was going to remember his daughter in any other way but as a fighter. He was there to comfort when I needed to be comforted, he was there to hold my hand when it needed to be held and he was also there to say "Kate, get moving" when all I wanted to do was hide. But not only is he an amazing husband but also an amazing father.
Before we had Levi I had never watched Adam hold a baby. I would always wonder what kind of parent each of us would be and how we would cope with all of the new responsibilities. We had met so early in life that sometimes I still think of us as our 16 year old selves and it's hard to imagine us any other way. When Levi was born though, it was natural, it was instinct and it was pure love at first site. Adam was on top of things, I honestly don't think I changed a single diaper in the hospital. He was ready to take on this new adventure and he was seriously the best at it with such little practice. I remember I would watch in awe as this strong and independent man would cradle our newborn so delicately and so effortlessly. How could I seriously love this man anymore? and yet there I was, finding myself falling more and more in love with him.
This past year, Adam's parenting skills were most definintely put to the test when I was hospitalized for four weeks while Harper and Mommy were under strict orders to take it easy. I was so fearful of how this would all play out because Adam was in the middle of busy season and Levi was beginning his "Mr. Independent" stage. Adam never flinched though, he never called me in a panic, he never complained and he made being a parent look so incredibly easy. He made sure we could face time each morning (when Mommy was awake to do it) and they would visit every single night in the hospital. Levi continued to flourish in school and everyday life and I watched that little 18 month old grow up so much with the guidance of his Dad along the way.
I have to admit though, there were times I was terrified that I was having a girl because after having a boy I felt that a girl was just a complete game changer. I'm not sure why I would get these sudden urges of fear but it would usually distance itself within a few moments. There was one thing I did always look forward too when we found out we were having a girl; that was watching Adam become a dad to a baby girl. I couldn't wait to watch their relationship blossom and used to always joke with Adam that I bet Levi would turn into a "Momma's Boy" and Harper would turn into a "Daddy's Girl". Adam would unknowingly light up a bit when we would talk about this because I knew he was ready. When I would ask are you excited it's a girl he would always answer without hesitation "Yes". I can't even begin to describe how amazing this man is because I don't think my limited vocabulary will do him justice. I seriously am so blessed, have I told you that enough times yet?
To this day my favorite memory will always be when I put little Miss Harper into her Dad's arms. Adam never took his eyes off of her sweet face and each time he kissed her a piece of my shattered heart was put back together. This was what I was going to miss most, the bonding and the completeness that our family was never going to feel again. We are always going to feel a little empty with Miss Harper so far away but we know that she is here with us each and every day holding our hands and helping us in every way she knows possible.
So this Father's Day I want to acknowledge all of the Dad's out there who are missing a piece of themselves today. I want us all to remember that behind every "strong" bereaved mother there is most likely a Dad helping to the put the pieces together as well. I know Dad's don't tend to show the outward signs of healing, but their insides were just as shattered as ours and require immense mending to heal the brokenness. So this Father's Day I'm going to pick up another broken piece on this unimaginable journey and together Adam and I will rebuild this path so that one day we are able to see our sweet daughter once again and Adam can hold his "daddy's girl" faithfully in his arms.
Happy Father's Day Adam!! * Love Levi and Sweet Harper *
Tuesday, June 7, 2016
Kindness, Sincerity and Empathy
To be an outsider in devastating situations has some difficult moments and I know one of the hardest parts of watching someone you love go through tumultuous times is not knowing what to say or how to help them cope with the burden they now bear. I've had friends lose their parents, lose their grandparents, lose people very near and dear to them and I have found myself in that alarming position where all I wanted to do was be there for them but I just wasn't quite sure how or what I could do. But let me tell you, I've now learned that it is just as confusing and just as hard to be on the other end of the spectrum as well. I was constantly asking myself: Will people judge me if I talk about my daughter? Will this person be upset with the words "my daughter died"? Should I show pictures of Harper? I think she's beautiful and perfect but what will everyone else see or think? I had never known anyone close to me who had lost a child (and I hope it stays that way!) so I wasn't sure how to react or how others would react to me. I was so nervous, terrified to say anything at all. How is it that I wouldn't think twice about blinking an eye when it comes to posting pictures of my beautiful daughters birth in a "normal" situation but because her life had only lasted a short time I was so scared to mention anything at all?! I knew I had to say something though because the thought of so many people asking why my arms would be empty when meeting them made my heart sink deeper than I knew I would ever be able to pull myself out from. That moment when I posted my first words on social media regarding my daughter, not only did it make the unimaginable feel real, but I had finally experienced for the first time what it felt like to watch fear slowly dissipate and become something much more incredible, it had become courage.
I'm going to tell you now, when someone loses a child I know it is scary to find the appropriate words to say. Truthfully, there really are no correct words. I know many people wondered whether they would upset me, or hurt me, or make the grieving that much more difficult but here is what I have learned though: It is most definitely OK to talk about death, it is OK to speak that child's name, and it is OK to ask questions and be inquisitive. It may not always be the right time for the one grieving to answer some of those questions, but to know that you care and are wanting to know more about the life of someone so incredibly close to their hearts is EVERYTHING. As a newly bereaved Mom, speaking of Harper's death brings me a lot of sadness but it also brings me an insurmountable amount of joy. It reminds me of the impact she had and that even though three days flew by, she will be remembered in some way. In my eyes she will always be remembered as a fighter, a daughter, and an angel: nothing less. You can ask me all day long what happened, how it happened, when we found out, what she looked like, what she weighed, what the doctors did and so on. That was the life of Miss Harper Lynn and one I am so proud of and will talk about until the day I die. When I tell you about her, I am reminded of her, and that's a gift that I will always cherish. She was brought to heaven way too soon in my eyes, but I know in His eyes she was brought there to fulfill a journey I know nothing about yet.
Not everyone grieves the same though, so I truly can't speak for each person traveling this unimaginable journey. Some need more time than others, but trust me when I say, we all want to talk about our "missing" child and we all want to be reminded of how much they were loved here on earth. The honest truth in regards to this situation is that losing a child is undoubtedly one of the most unnatural feelings in the world and we as the child's parents need to be reminded of the "realness" at times. I cannot imagine anything more harsh in this world than having to walk into a funeral home and say "I'm here to pick up my daughter's ashes." It's almost impossible to pick yourself up after re-living those moments and it's extremely hard to see where the beauty lies when uttering those horrid words. But from the ashes we will rise, and within the rising we will find beauty again; for it is with death that we find redemption and within that redemption we will find a purity that is so whole, a purity in which we strive to discover each day of our earthly lives. But one must understand, to find the beauty within us during these incredibly dark moments is not an easy task, and some may struggle more so than others. We must always approach this subject with complete compassion. You don't have to always have the right words or know the exact right thing to say but you do have to always show true kindness, true sincerity and true empathy towards those in need for it is those vibes that will help the grieving soul better understand your intentions and your love for them as well.
With that being said, I once again will pick up another shattered piece along this unimaginable journey and relish in the knowledge that through Harper's death I have embraced a true miracle, one that has shown me a peak at redemption and a small glimpse of the purity that is so whole. Today, I will place that broken piece carefully where it belongs along this beautiful path and know that in doing so I am so much closer to holding my tiny miracle in my arms once again.
XoXo Harper Lynn
** One of the best messages I received from a close friend read like this: "I think about you all the time. Asking how you are doing is a really dumb question so, I hope today is better than yesterday"**
I'm going to tell you now, when someone loses a child I know it is scary to find the appropriate words to say. Truthfully, there really are no correct words. I know many people wondered whether they would upset me, or hurt me, or make the grieving that much more difficult but here is what I have learned though: It is most definitely OK to talk about death, it is OK to speak that child's name, and it is OK to ask questions and be inquisitive. It may not always be the right time for the one grieving to answer some of those questions, but to know that you care and are wanting to know more about the life of someone so incredibly close to their hearts is EVERYTHING. As a newly bereaved Mom, speaking of Harper's death brings me a lot of sadness but it also brings me an insurmountable amount of joy. It reminds me of the impact she had and that even though three days flew by, she will be remembered in some way. In my eyes she will always be remembered as a fighter, a daughter, and an angel: nothing less. You can ask me all day long what happened, how it happened, when we found out, what she looked like, what she weighed, what the doctors did and so on. That was the life of Miss Harper Lynn and one I am so proud of and will talk about until the day I die. When I tell you about her, I am reminded of her, and that's a gift that I will always cherish. She was brought to heaven way too soon in my eyes, but I know in His eyes she was brought there to fulfill a journey I know nothing about yet.
Not everyone grieves the same though, so I truly can't speak for each person traveling this unimaginable journey. Some need more time than others, but trust me when I say, we all want to talk about our "missing" child and we all want to be reminded of how much they were loved here on earth. The honest truth in regards to this situation is that losing a child is undoubtedly one of the most unnatural feelings in the world and we as the child's parents need to be reminded of the "realness" at times. I cannot imagine anything more harsh in this world than having to walk into a funeral home and say "I'm here to pick up my daughter's ashes." It's almost impossible to pick yourself up after re-living those moments and it's extremely hard to see where the beauty lies when uttering those horrid words. But from the ashes we will rise, and within the rising we will find beauty again; for it is with death that we find redemption and within that redemption we will find a purity that is so whole, a purity in which we strive to discover each day of our earthly lives. But one must understand, to find the beauty within us during these incredibly dark moments is not an easy task, and some may struggle more so than others. We must always approach this subject with complete compassion. You don't have to always have the right words or know the exact right thing to say but you do have to always show true kindness, true sincerity and true empathy towards those in need for it is those vibes that will help the grieving soul better understand your intentions and your love for them as well.
With that being said, I once again will pick up another shattered piece along this unimaginable journey and relish in the knowledge that through Harper's death I have embraced a true miracle, one that has shown me a peak at redemption and a small glimpse of the purity that is so whole. Today, I will place that broken piece carefully where it belongs along this beautiful path and know that in doing so I am so much closer to holding my tiny miracle in my arms once again.
XoXo Harper Lynn
** One of the best messages I received from a close friend read like this: "I think about you all the time. Asking how you are doing is a really dumb question so, I hope today is better than yesterday"**
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