Beginnings

"Life isn't about avoiding the bruises. Maybe it's about collecting the scars to prove we showed up for it." -Unknown

Hello again!

When I started this blog I had every intention of making this a regular thing I posted on. Unfortunately, it's not turned out that way, but as many of you know my husband and I recently began our journey to have more children through IVF. I thought this would be a great time to fire up the old blog as writing has always been therapeutic for me and in hopes that my words can give support and love to those who need it.
For those may be just joining this blog; a year, 5 months and 3 days ago our first daughter Eloise Ava was stillborn. I think about and miss her every single day. February 5, 2015 is a day that our lives were forever changed. There are days that it feels like it's been a lot longer than that and moments that it feels like it just happened a few months ago. Although I still have hard times we have somehow managed to pick up the pieces as best we can.
Time has been a great healer of some emotions. Being grief stricken and unbearably sad are among a few and for that I am grateful. But if I'm being completely honest, there are some feelings that I believe I will always carry with me. Failure, fear and anger for what happened. The thoughts of what if I had done this, did more of that, didn't do this. Maybe if we had gone to the hospital sooner things would be different. I wouldn't be writing these things right now. All these what ifs and different scenarios I've played over in my head millions of times. 
How are you ever supposed to make your heart believe that if you had just done one thing different your entire life would be different?!? I don't know that I can ever convince my heart otherwise if I'm being completely honest. That is just the lot that myself and any other person who has experienced loss has been given. These feelings change us and have the power to shape us into bitter, withdrawn people if we choose. Or, we can choose that while deep down we fear the worst of ourselves, there really is no purpose in dwelling on these types of thoughts. Because dwelling on them won't bring my Eloise back to me or change the outcome. What's done is done no matter how much I pray or wish it to be different. Perhaps what I have learned most this last year, 5 months and 3 days is that dwelling on these thought doesn't make Eloise happy either. I'm no expert, but one of the greatest lessons I have learned my from daughter is that we always have a choice. When hard situations come up we always have a choice how it will define us.
In the days and months after Eloise I felt that the only way to really remember her was to do be constantly thinking of her. I really began to close myself off to the world. As the days moved on I found myself in bed longer, sitting in our apartment with all the blinds closed in silence. No T.V. or music just myself thinking of her and all the what ifs. It became very lonely, but with a new job opportunity came light and hope. It felt weird to be in light again. To put on make up again, to get ready for the day. The first time I laughed I felt terrible. I remembering immediately breaking into tears because I felt like I had forgotten her. But as time has passed I now see and feel her in the simplest things. And even though it was really hard to live again when I have those moments where I feel her it's reassurance that Julio and I have done the right thing by choosing to live. Choosing to allow this experience to make us closer, not only to each other, but to our Savior.
Before we got married we knew the possibility of having children wasn't very likely for us. I have stage 4 endometriosis and after surgery in March 2016 I was officially diagnosed with PCOS. So getting pregnant with Eloise was a miracle in every sense of the word. We began meeting with a fertility doctor in January of this year. I always expected after a few years of marriage we'd end up there because of my health issues. To those who have walked a similar path we know there are no quick solutions when it comes to infertility. The only solution is a baby and for some couples that's not easy! It's not always possible and it's not always something you're blessed with immediately. Most of the time it's a lot of being patient, being angry, feeling hopeless and then feeling hopeful. And then, even if you get pregnant it's not over!! You still have to wait 9 months!! For me, the fear of having another stillborn child will always be there! One thing that has really helped me not to fall completely apart as we have struggled with infertility since losing Eloise is to look at this journey as a learning and growing experience. Nothing I do can control the outcome. As much as I wish I could force my body to ovulate or to suddenly cure itself of endo and PCOS I can't. So I just have to take deep breaths and accept. I think by accepting what has happened and what our current situation is has helped me a lot.
Now don't get me wrong, that doesn't mean I've always been a happy camper. That doesn't mean I still don't fall apart some days or get angry every month when the red devil pays me a visit! It just simply means that I've come to peace with everything. It's taken me a long time to accept and honestly in some ways I'm still trying to. I still have days where all of this seems incredibly unfair! But I hope by sharing some of these raw feelings it will give you hope that whatever you are facing or have faced or will face you can be at peace too.
As a member of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints we learn and are taught that Adam and Eve needed to know pain so they could fully understand happiness. Did they want to leave the Lord's presence? No, but they knew by doing so they could experience all they were meant to experience. I imagine it was the same for each of us before we came here. There are experiences in our lives that we don't want to face, but through our pain, our tears and heartache we will better understand what true happiness is. I think that is something to be really grateful for!! It's not always easy, but it is most definitely worth it whether we see those rewards in this life or the next. All of this of course is much easier said than done, but to those in the midst of trial stay strong and know that happiness, hope and peace will come!
Having more children is not something I thought I would ever be ready for. I remember thinking "How could I ever possibly think of bringing another child into our lives?? Doing so would mean I would be forgetting Eloise!" Now I realize Eloise would love nothing more than to have siblings! She wants nothing more than to see us happy and thriving!!!
A dear friend of mine shared a special excerpt from her great aunts journal with me. Most of it is too sacred and special to share, but I got her permission to share a part that deeply touched my soul. Her aunt was granted a vision and in her vision was able to witness the special connection between mother and child. I now better understand my connection with my daughter. How when I am sad Eloise is sad. When I am happy Eloise is happy. After reading this sacred entry I couldn't help but step into the next room and talk to my baby in hopes that she would feel my love for her! That she would be able to feel that not a day goes by that I don't think of her, and how hard I am trying to live my life the best I can so I can see her again! It made me realize the decision that Julio and I made so many months ago to live life for her was quite possibly the best decision we could have ever made!!
As we begin this new chapter my emotions are everywhere, but I'm so excited! So I'll send a request out into the universe that all turns out well. Prayers, good vibes and magic spells are always appreciated as we begin our journey!

XOXO

Unexpected Blessings

"If you saw the size of the blessing coming, you would understand the magnitude of the battle you are fighting."

 It's always easy to look back after passing through something difficult and see the blessings perhaps even the reason for that trial. Not always so easy to see the blessings when the trial is staring you in the face. I'm the type of person that if I can understand the reason for something happening or understand the "why" part of it I seem to manage things a lot better.
Which is why what I am about to share was a curveball in my healing process as it is a completely different and new kind of way of helping me understand maybe a little bit why we have been asked to pass through this particular trial.
Flashback to the day in February when we were in hospital. So much was going on with different decisions needing to be made and all this information coming at us from doctors, nurses and counselors. It was overwhelming!! I vaguely remember the hospital making arrangements for a photographer to come in and take pictures for us let alone really remember those pictures being taken. I was in such a state of shock and disbelief.
These photographers offer their time and services to the Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep organization. Maybe some have heard of this amazing organization maybe some haven't. They offer free professional portraits to families of stillborn babies or to families whose children won't live long after birth.
A few days ago, I received an email of the portraits from that day. At first I was really hesitant to look at the pictures because I wasn't sure what to expect. They were well worth the wait and these photos are something that I will forever cherish and be grateful that we have.

     

I look at these pictures and I can't help but cry. It brings back everything from that day. Every feeling and emotion. The first time I looked through all of the pictures I found it hard to believe that was me in the pictures. I can see the heartbreak in my eyes and on my face. My eyelids were swollen for days just from crying so much. I didn't think it was possible to have so many tears, but they just kept coming.
I remember being in the hospital and thinking to myself, "How am I ever going to get through this?!? This is too much. It's too hard!!" I remember feeling so hopeless, lost, sad and overcome with every other emotion associated with the pain of losing our daughter. I not only had my feelings, but I felt so deeply for my husband as well! I worried about him and how he would make it through this! It's amazing how just a picture can bring back so many emotions!
My heart still hurts and I imagine it will hurt for a long time. But oh how I would love to go back and have a visit with myself that day in February. Wrap my arms around her and assure her that yes this road will be tough. Yes, there will be days when the heartache is unbearable. And what's worse, you won't receive a single explanation as to why this happened. But even though this trial is something you never asked for you will little by little begin to realize that you wouldn't trade it for anything because of what it will teach you about yourself, about your husband and about how strong you both are. In fact, because of this trial you'll soon realize that there isn't any trial, hardship or challenge that you two cannot face together after having gone through this. I'd tell her to hold on for hope to come because it will.
Even now as I type this I realize it's been 3 months today. Three months down and a lifetime to go! Every time the 5th rolls around it still amazes me that we've made it another month. It should be cause for celebration!! I can imagine Eloise and my dad celebrating in heaven the fact that we've made it another month. I hope they celebrate by sharing two hostess cupcakes! As a wise friend once said "There has to be cake in heaven!" :)
 Receiving these pictures made me realize just how far I have come in my healing process and made me reflect on all the blessings we have received and will continue to receive. It also made me realize that maybe a part of the reason for this trial is not actually for myself, but for those around me who may at some point experience something similar or be faced with a different kind trial in their life. We will all be faced with challenges at some point and they will come to us in many different ways.
To those reading who are struggling know that you can lean on me until you feel strong enough to stand on your own. I know what it feels like to be faced with something you're not sure how you will ever overcome. The journey will be hard, probably full of ups and downs, but I promise you that if you will just hold on it will be worth it! Here I am standing along with my husband after having experienced something no parent should have to and we can say to you that we are doing it and so can you! Keep moving forward!! Hold on for hope because it will come!
I can't help but feel that Eloise looks down on us and smiles and is proud of her parents. Well…at least I hope she does. I hope she misses us just as much as we miss her. How grateful I am to know that death is not the end. We will see each other again and how great a reunion that will be. I live for that day!

Finding Happiness

"Remember how far you've come, not just how far you have to go. You are not where you want to be, but neither are you where you used to be."

A friend of mine recently asked me if I was finding happiness. That was kind of a difficult question to answer. I haven't really thought much about my happiness. All I could manage to come up with was that it's coming slowly. There are still hard days, but overall I feel hope. It's been interesting as I've moved through this experience to learn about myself in ways I never imagined. I find it hard to believe that it's only been 2 1/2 months. It feels so much longer than that. It's hard that life has moved on. That, dare I say it, I've even tried to move forward.
Eloise's due date was a few weeks ago. I had thought about writing a blog post, a letter to her, but I couldn't quite bring myself to do it. It just seemed too difficult. I wasn't sure how the day was going to be for me....for us. It ended up being a day full of ups and downs. I feel like the days leading up to that day were more rocky than the actual day itself.
One helpful thing was Julio and I planned a little getaway to California. We left that night, so most of the day at work I had plenty of time to think about what might have been. I was back to feeling the waves of indescribable sadness. Julio reminded me a few times throughout the day of our pact we had made that when we were on our vacation we weren't allowed to be sad. I reminded him we weren't in California yet, so I could be sad all I wanted. haha
It ended up being just what both of us needed. It was nice to get away, to be together and celebrate our Eloise. She brought us so much happiness and has helped us realize things about ourselves we would never have otherwise learned had she not come to us in the way she did. I've began to think of her as our Unexpected Miracle so it was nice to be in places where we felt like we were celebrating her short life with us and creating memories we would have created had she been able to be with us. And I'm happy to say no tears were shed. In fact, I don't think I've laughed that much since before losing Eloise.



My husband has this amazing ability to make anything fun! He's such a big kid at heart and that's one of the things I love most about him. It's also how I know that he is the best dad for Eloise and our future children. It had been several years since he had been to Disneyland so in ways it was like being there with a kid for the very first time! It was non-stop fun that whole day!
A huge highlight for both of us was to be able to do a session in the San Diego temple. I had never been there before. It was absolutely stunning! It's the first time Julio and I had been back to the temple together. The feelings and comfort we received there brought me to tears. Some things are just too personal and sacred to talk about, but what I will say is how grateful I am for temples and the peace that comes from being there.

 I've heard it said, "the cure for anything is salt water- sweat, tears or the sea".  Perhaps the thing I was looking forward to most was being by the ocean. I am drawn to the sea. There's just something about it that soothes my soul. When I was younger, I often found myself on a beach when I was going through hard times and just needed a break, so it was fitting that we found ourselves there a couple of times during our trip. I've often described this trial like waves of the sea. Everything just ebbs and flows. There are good days and bad days, ups and downs. The main goal is just to stay afloat.










Sitting on the beach I had a few quiet moments to think about the passed little while. As I said before it seems like so much longer than 2 1/2 months. I thought about how interesting this has been to fumble through and figure out.
Lately though, my thoughts have seemed to be focused on this thing called grief. It's an interesting emotion. It's messy and full of ups and downs. And just when you think you've mastered everything about it along comes another aspect to teach you something else.
Each person grieves differently. Handles their emotions differently. Even Julio had I have dealt with this loss separately at times. I'm definitely more outspoken about things than he is. I find strength in expressing my emotions and talking with others about what I'm going through. I think I've always been that way. Now, being passed the initial shock and heartbreak of losing Eloise comes the learning of still living life. I know I've mentioned this before or something similar in past posts, but each day there's something different to learn about it.
What's hard is sometimes I put pressure on myself that I should be doing better than I am. I should be over this already. My faith and hope in Jesus Christ and His plan for his children should be enough! I've had to remind myself over and over the importance of compassion towards myself. No one expects me to be "over it" in 2 1/2 months or even a year! And while I feel fortunate enough to belong to the faith that I do and know what I believe is true that doesn't rule me out from being human and just plain being sad about what we've been faced with. It's perfectly ok for me to admit to having hard days. There's a part of me that will always be grieving. I've spoken with a lot of women who have been through a similar experience, some years and years ago and they talk like it happened just yesterday. There will always be pain. The challenge is learning to live with it.
Most of the time when I think about Eloise it's this deep yearning to have her here. I miss her. I look at those around me having children and raising their children and think how much I wish I had the opportunity to get to know who she is. I don't know what makes her special, what her quirks are, her favorite color or even what color her eyes are. I can only speculate and make things up in my head. Right now that is what's so hard. I pray often that through sacred moments I will somehow, some way be able to know who she is. As silly as it sounds I keep praying to see her. To know she's ok and happy. I smile and get tearful thinking of all the fun she is having with my dad.
Though there have been many, many tears shed (and I expect there will be many more in the days and years to come) there have also been just as many if not more moments of hope, joy and happiness. It's in those moments I feel closest to my Eloise. It's in those moments I realize just how lucky I am to have her for my daughter.

Seguir Adelante

"Grief is the price we pay for love"-Queen Elizabeth II

I've had a lot of thoughts these past few weeks since my first post. A lot has happened too. First of all, I quit my job that I've been at for the past 3 years to work out at our family farm. I realized that I needed to be in an environment where I could heal and would allow me to heal. No better way to do that than to be with family. It's been a good change. A much needed change.
Going back to work was hard. Funny thing about staying busy is it doesn't give you as much time to think about the things that make you sad, angry, frustrated or on the verge of tears all day. I suppose that's a good thing. I guess I've since learned that it is a good thing even if at first I felt bad about not having as much time as I did in the beginning to mourn my Eloise.
Although I've tried to take steps to get back into a routine I still allow myself to have moments of grief.  I allow myself to talk to her in my mind and tell her how much I wish that she was here instead of where she is now. I still have moments when the unbearable heartache out of no where hits me square in the chest. It's not easy to forget when signs and evidence that she was once with me are all over my body when I look in the mirror, but now all I have is a memory. It's not easy seeing pictures of pregnant bellies, new moms with their babies and being reminded that I should be posting pictures right along with them. Even with time the pain never goes away. You simply just learn how to live with loss.
My biggest fear from day one has been that people will forget her. I could never forget her. I think that's why there's a part of me that wants to stay in this stage of grief and pain forever, because in some way that means I'm not forgetting her. Does that make sense? Is it weird that when I realize I've gone awhile without thinking of her I feel guilty? That I feel like I've hurt her feelings?
I recently described this past little while to a friend as it feeling like I had been shoved down the rabbit hole. I'm just free falling. Not being able to tell up from down. This experience has definitely been the biggest test of my faith. It has tested everything I believe in. It has tested my faith in God, in His plan and even in myself. I remember going through a similar test when my dad passed away and being faced with the questions: Do I really believe all I've been taught to believe? Do I believe I will be with him again? In ways the same questions are being asked only on a much more personal level. Looking back I realize losing my dad was just preparation.
Regardless of what kind of day I'm having or moments when I think how incredibly unfair this all is, I have to dig down deep and believe that somehow despite my lack of answers and understanding that everything will one day work itself out. I don't know how it will, but I have to believe it will. I have to find hope even if it's in the smallest thing. Because if I allowed the doubts and fears to take over I would drown and most days I struggle just to keep my head above water. My mom has always reminded me that with hope we have everything. Without it we have nothing. I'm beginning to understand how true that is.
I will be honest and say that I have been completely dreading the month of April! Eloise was due April 16. I'm not quite sure how to prepare for what lies ahead. I some times just wish I could take a sedative that knocks me out til June, but that would be too easy!
I do want to take a moment and say something about my amazing husband Julio. I wish I could be more like him. He has what I believe to be the God given gift of being able to accept whatever life throws at him. And life has certainly dealt him his share of unfair hands at times. I wish I could accept what has happened just as easily as he has. However, I know this hasn't been easy for him. He grieves in his own way. I know he's had his broken, painful moments too. His strength amazes me though and I honestly wouldn't choose anyone else to navigate this challenge with. I guess that's how I know I've made the right decision in being with him forever. He is definitely my rock and I am grateful that he allows me to cry it all out some nights. I am grateful for his patience with me. And I am especially grateful that when the moments get a little too unbearable or serious he is there trying to make me laugh and smile.
Tonight I found myself prompted to go to a group therapy session that is held every month for families that have lost babies. I had planned in my mind all week to go, but of course I forgot and realized 15 minutes after it had already started. I debated whether or not to still go, but I felt like even if I was there for a few minutes I should still try and go.
Unfortunately, I read the card wrong and thought that the class was being held on the Labor & Delivery floor in the hospital! So there I found myself retracing my steps up to the 5th floor just as we had done almost two months ago. It wasn't until I was standing outside of Labor & Delivery talking to the nurse on the phone that I realized I had read the card wrong! The thought had crossed my mind that it was awfully cruel of them to hold a grief session in the same place I had given birth!!! When I found out where I was to go I hung up the phone and cried the whole way down the elevator and out to my car.
Like all things end when you follow a prompting I am so glad that I went. Although all of us have been through the pain of losing a child, how we have experienced that pain is different and personal. There is something about talking with people who have in some way experienced a taste of what you have been through that is so healing and comforting. To have people validate your feelings whether they be good or bad is such a healing thing.
In the weeks that followed the birth of Eloise I remember telling Julio, "if one more person tells me 'you're such a special woman to be the mother of such a perfect daughter' I may just starting screaming or punch you in the face!" I hated hearing that because I don't want to be a "special" person and I don't want my daughter to be perfect either! I just want to be like every other mom that gets to raise her child now.
I don't even know their names because I ended up being 45 minutes late to the group session, but I am grateful for the women I had the opportunity to be with tonight. I'm grateful they were brave enough to share their stories and feelings with me. It hit me as I was sharing some of my thoughts that indeed I was sitting in a room full of special women who had given birth to some very special and perfect children. Not every woman could bear what we have been asked to bear nor should any woman have to. I don't mean to say that in a "hair toss toss look at me kind" of way either. I think I just realized that although that was hard to hear from people at first (and it still is some days) there is purpose within this trial even if I don't understand all aspects of it yet. Somehow this experience is shaping me into the person I need to become. Somehow every morning (and not by my own strength) I am able to face another day.
I suppose knowing Eloise is where we all long to be and that she's made it should bring me some sort of comfort. I should be happy! After all, as a parent all you want is for your children to be where she is. Now it's up to me to live my life so I can be with her. I some times think I shouldn't be sad knowing what I know. I'm not to that point yet, but I have hope that one day I will be.

Defining Moments

"There are moments that mark your life. Moments when you realize nothing will ever be the same and time is divided into two parts- before this, and after this." 

One such moment began in the early hours of February 5, 2015…

 My husband Julio gets up early each morning for work and while most days I sleep right through his morning rituals only to be woken up by a kiss, a hug and an "I love you" before he's off, this particular morning as he was getting ready I suddenly woke up in a panic. Something was different. Something felt different. It was then I realized I hadn't felt my baby move. In fact, from what I remembered I hadn't felt her move at all the previous day either. I quickly reached for my phone and pulled up my music. I don't recall what song I selected and put up to my belly but after several minutes of no movement I called for my husband. By this time I was in tears.
One thing you must know about my husband is he is not emotional like me. I sometimes joke that he's not really Latin. That I have more of that Latin trait than he does and he lived in Mexico for 13 years of his life! My husband is a very logical person and he keeps me grounded. I've been grateful for that in situations when my emotions have gotten the best of me. So when his response to me after I called him in was not his typical, "Mel, stop worrying. She's fine." type of answer and instead silence and a look of concern I knew something was very wrong. It was then he made the decision that we needed to go to Labor and Delivery to get checked out.
 From that moment on everything just seemed like a dream. I remember during car ride to the hospital we didn't speak a word to each other. I remember thinking how peaceful the early morning is. Not knowing what we were about to face I just tried to believe that everything was going to be ok. We were going to go in there and hear her heartbeat, she and I would have a long talk about not scaring momma anymore and we'd move on. Life rarely turns out the way we expect it to.
After getting settle into a room and changing clothes the nurse came in to run tests. When she couldn't hear a heartbeat I think she made up the excuse that "sometimes the placenta gets in the way and it's hard to hear the heartbeat". Bless her heart for trying. I don't know if that's true or not, but it was in that moment I think I knew this wasn't going to turn out the way I thought it would.
 Not too long after that the doctor came in to do an ultrasound. During that ultrasound I kept my eyes fixed on Julio. I was looking for any reaction, any sign of hope, any indication that things were fine and everything was going to be okay. After what felt like forever, the doctor confirmed what we already knew. She was gone. There was no life. All I could do was cry. I couldn't believe what he was telling us was now our reality. There had to be some mistake. He needed to check again. My baby was not really gone. How could this be??
 After that, it's all a blur. Discussions of how to proceed, when to deliver, how to deliver, our thoughts about an autopsy. I barely remember anything. I assume this was my body's way of dealing with such devastating news. I kept going back and forth between unbearable heartache, you know the kind that overcomes your entire body with indescribable pain and sadness, to not feeling at all and thinking this is not happening. This is not my reality. Up until that moment I thought the hardest thing I would ever experience was losing a parent at 16. Losing a child at 29, not possible. Not.possible.

 Eloise Ava Johnson was born via c-section Thursday, February 5, 2015 at 2:42 in the afternoon. She weighed 2 lbs. 3 ounces and was 15 inches long. The doctors said that when they pulled her out her arms were crossed on her body and that she looked so peaceful. My brother would later say, "I think she wanted you to know that she is at peace. She's with Dad and she's okay."

 She had the thick wavy hair that I had hoped she'd have and in my eyes was the most perfect human being. Even before she was born I had fallen in love with her profile. Especially her nose. I thought she was beautiful in ultrasounds. She was even more beautiful in person. We were able to bathe her, 

dress her and hold her for as long as we wanted. Creating moments that I will forever cherish. However, lingering in the back of my mind was the agony of knowing that eventually we would have to say goodbye. How do you say goodbye to someone you don't even know, yet had such an impact on your life? The next day before we said our final goodbye I kept asking the nurse if Eloise was going to be ok. My heart hurt so much to think she was going to be in some cold place alone. I didn't want that for my baby. I felt so helpless. 

I remember telling my mom that throughout the 30 weeks I was pregnant I had felt something. I had a feeling. I didn't know how to describe it. I couldn't explain it. I didn't know what it was, but deep down  I knew something. Never in a million years would I have dreamed this would be that something. She told me that the day my dad was diagnosed with a brain tumor she had similar feelings. Her belief is that in some instances our spirits know and we're being prepared.

 In the days since Eloise left us I've tried desperately to make any sort of sense out of what has happened. My husband says I'm a fixer. So in true "fixer" fashion I've gone back over everything over and over again trying to find something to explain why things are the way they are. I scoured the internet for answers. What did I miss? What did I do wrong? As a mother and the one who carried her it's hard not to place blame on myself. I should have known something was wrong.
  It's hard feeling like I understood my purpose. I was certain I understood why some things didn't work out in the past. I was supposed to be a mom and be home to raise my daughter. I felt like for the first time in a long time God and I were on the same page. Now, all of a sudden I find myself back at square one lost and confused about what exactly my purpose is.
 It's been difficult to pick up the pieces. Even harder to feel okay about moving on. Realizing that life moves on with or without me. Which, frankly, I don't think is very fair at all. My heart knows that Eloise would want us to be happy and living life to the fullest. In fact, on really good days I say I will live life to the fullest in her honor and I do.
  Most days though the goal is just to survive. Which is where the idea for a blog came about in the first place. Nights are hard in the sense that I don't sleep as well as I used to. I thought that this might be a good way to channel my energy and one way to help me heal. I can't promise anything spectacular, but I hope in some way it helps me or even you, the reader.
  "There are moments that mark your life." Well, this is definitely one of them. I am forever a changed person because of this experience. A piece of me died the day Eloise did and I won't ever be whole until I have her in my arms again. She helped me realize things I didn't even know I needed or wanted.
 While I may not understand a lot of things right now I look back on the past month and realize that by some miracle we've made it more than a month! In ways the heartache isn't as unbearable as it was the morning in February. And I realize how incredibly lucky and blessed I am so have had someone so precious with me for 30 weeks.