An interesting article was recently posted on KSL titled Child's Death May Increase Chance of Mother's Fatality. Here is the link. The article brought to mind a question I've been hearing lately, now that some time has passed: Why is she still having such a hard time? This article and the comments posted shed some light and offer validation as to why I am still having a hard time.
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, with October 15th being the day set aside nationally to honor all babies gone too soon. I have been looking forward to experiencing this month with the new meaning Tesslee has given October. I hope to bring awareness to these precious little ones, and to the depth and extent of grief that is attached to infant and pregnancy loss. It is greatly underestimated. It affects so much more, and is felt so much longer than many people realize.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Monday, October 1, 2012
Missing Their Sister
I've had a few people ask how the kids show their grief, and I think it's important to have this recorded. It will be good to look back and see the different ways each of them grieve.
Jefferson is pretty private, and doesn't say a lot, but he is very sentimental, and I know that even though he doesn't say much, he thinks about his little sister, often. The night we came home from the hospital we were looking at her pictures all together on the couch, and I glanced over at Jefferson. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was trying to cry quietly. It broke my heart. We all held each other and had a good cry and chat about how crying is okay. The hospital gave us a book to read with the kids called Sad Isn't Bad. It was the perfect time to read it. Jefferson is really into collecting Pokemon cards. And every now and then he brings me a card and tells me he will never trade this one because it reminds him of Tesslee. One card had the Pokemon's stats on its height said 8 inches tall. He said it was really special to him because that's how big Tesslee was. Also, out of the blue one day he brought me a measuring tape that was pulled out 8 inches and asked why we didn't let him come to the hospital and hold Tesslee. (When Tesslee was born, we thought a lot about whether we would have the kids come or not. She was perfect, but began to discolor and change rapidly. We decided to just show them pictures of her, since what they were expecting their baby sister to look like was not what she would look like by the time they got there.) Sometimes I wonder if it would've been a good thing for the older kids to hold their baby sister. I know I can't look back.
Kilee talks about Tesslee all the time. She draws pictures at school and saves them to take to Tesslee's grave, she always includes Tesslee in our prayers. She dreams about Tesslee. She's mentioned that she really wishes she could've held Tesslee, too. Kilee has told me more than once that she hopes we don't have any more babies. I was shocked that she would say such a thing, because she loves babies so much and was so excited to have Tesslee. I think she is afraid of losing another baby. She had some big plans for herself, Ellee and Tesslee, and she has had to change those plans. Kilee was very excited that all the girls would share a room. We have had Kilee's and Ellee's baby pictures displayed on her dresser and it was really important for her to go the store and pick out a picture frame that could hold all three of the girls' pictures. It was fun taking Kilee there and choosing a fancy picture frame. I think it is good for her to have a picture of them all together. She also saved her money and bought a poster for Tesslee. She hung it right by her bed. Tonight Kilee did something really cute. She made us all name tags for our places at dinner. She set a place for Tesslee, too. It was so special.
Caden is very tender-hearted. He tells me a couple times a day that he can't wait any more to see his baby sister and that she will be so cute!!! There have been a few times that it just becomes too much and he breaks down and cries, but it is a cry that he tries to hold in, and can't, and it sounds like he is hyperventilating. It is so very precious and heart-breaking at the same time. It hurts me so much to see him cry. When this happens I just scoop him up and hold him and tell him it's okay if he needs to cry, and that I miss her so much too, and someday we will have her again. Cade remembers Tesslee in every prayer. He asks Heavenly Father that she will be safe in Heaven. He also loves to sleep with her baby blanket, which is hard for me to part with, but every now and then I let him have it for the night. Whenever we pass the cemetery, Cade always reminds us to say hi to Tesslee. It's something we do every time now, (even if I'm in the car by myself) we always say hi to her.
I wondered if Ellee, being so young, would show signs of grieving. I am becoming more aware everyday that she knows more than we realize. Sometimes out of nowhere she will say "It's so sad, Tesslee died, Its sad." I think she understands death more than most 2 year olds. Right after Tesslee died, some little kittens she loved to hold died too. So now she associates "Tesslee died. Kitties died. Its sad." I wonder what "died" means in her mind. I think to her it signifies that they went away, or she can't see them anymore. Tesslee is still a very common part of Ellee's daily life, though. She always asks to hold Tesslee's empty outfits, and I let her as much as she wants. She rocks and cuddles them and kisses where Tesslee's face would be. She loves babies so much. Ellee is very sensitive to me, and shows a lot of concern and really is aware of when I am hurting. I think showing concern for me is a way she grieves and lets me know she understands and feels this too.
I'm learning so much about grieving. I wish that I could take my children's pain and sadness away! But I know that it is important that they feel what they are feeling, and do what they need to do, and that they don't bottle their emotions up. I want my kids to know that I understand that they suffered their own significant loss of their sister. I love my children so much, and whatever they need to do to work through their individual grief, I am here for them.
Jefferson is pretty private, and doesn't say a lot, but he is very sentimental, and I know that even though he doesn't say much, he thinks about his little sister, often. The night we came home from the hospital we were looking at her pictures all together on the couch, and I glanced over at Jefferson. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he was trying to cry quietly. It broke my heart. We all held each other and had a good cry and chat about how crying is okay. The hospital gave us a book to read with the kids called Sad Isn't Bad. It was the perfect time to read it. Jefferson is really into collecting Pokemon cards. And every now and then he brings me a card and tells me he will never trade this one because it reminds him of Tesslee. One card had the Pokemon's stats on its height said 8 inches tall. He said it was really special to him because that's how big Tesslee was. Also, out of the blue one day he brought me a measuring tape that was pulled out 8 inches and asked why we didn't let him come to the hospital and hold Tesslee. (When Tesslee was born, we thought a lot about whether we would have the kids come or not. She was perfect, but began to discolor and change rapidly. We decided to just show them pictures of her, since what they were expecting their baby sister to look like was not what she would look like by the time they got there.) Sometimes I wonder if it would've been a good thing for the older kids to hold their baby sister. I know I can't look back.
Kilee talks about Tesslee all the time. She draws pictures at school and saves them to take to Tesslee's grave, she always includes Tesslee in our prayers. She dreams about Tesslee. She's mentioned that she really wishes she could've held Tesslee, too. Kilee has told me more than once that she hopes we don't have any more babies. I was shocked that she would say such a thing, because she loves babies so much and was so excited to have Tesslee. I think she is afraid of losing another baby. She had some big plans for herself, Ellee and Tesslee, and she has had to change those plans. Kilee was very excited that all the girls would share a room. We have had Kilee's and Ellee's baby pictures displayed on her dresser and it was really important for her to go the store and pick out a picture frame that could hold all three of the girls' pictures. It was fun taking Kilee there and choosing a fancy picture frame. I think it is good for her to have a picture of them all together. She also saved her money and bought a poster for Tesslee. She hung it right by her bed. Tonight Kilee did something really cute. She made us all name tags for our places at dinner. She set a place for Tesslee, too. It was so special.
Caden is very tender-hearted. He tells me a couple times a day that he can't wait any more to see his baby sister and that she will be so cute!!! There have been a few times that it just becomes too much and he breaks down and cries, but it is a cry that he tries to hold in, and can't, and it sounds like he is hyperventilating. It is so very precious and heart-breaking at the same time. It hurts me so much to see him cry. When this happens I just scoop him up and hold him and tell him it's okay if he needs to cry, and that I miss her so much too, and someday we will have her again. Cade remembers Tesslee in every prayer. He asks Heavenly Father that she will be safe in Heaven. He also loves to sleep with her baby blanket, which is hard for me to part with, but every now and then I let him have it for the night. Whenever we pass the cemetery, Cade always reminds us to say hi to Tesslee. It's something we do every time now, (even if I'm in the car by myself) we always say hi to her.
I wondered if Ellee, being so young, would show signs of grieving. I am becoming more aware everyday that she knows more than we realize. Sometimes out of nowhere she will say "It's so sad, Tesslee died, Its sad." I think she understands death more than most 2 year olds. Right after Tesslee died, some little kittens she loved to hold died too. So now she associates "Tesslee died. Kitties died. Its sad." I wonder what "died" means in her mind. I think to her it signifies that they went away, or she can't see them anymore. Tesslee is still a very common part of Ellee's daily life, though. She always asks to hold Tesslee's empty outfits, and I let her as much as she wants. She rocks and cuddles them and kisses where Tesslee's face would be. She loves babies so much. Ellee is very sensitive to me, and shows a lot of concern and really is aware of when I am hurting. I think showing concern for me is a way she grieves and lets me know she understands and feels this too.
I'm learning so much about grieving. I wish that I could take my children's pain and sadness away! But I know that it is important that they feel what they are feeling, and do what they need to do, and that they don't bottle their emotions up. I want my kids to know that I understand that they suffered their own significant loss of their sister. I love my children so much, and whatever they need to do to work through their individual grief, I am here for them.
Saturday, September 29, 2012
Wounds
**I feel very vulnerable sharing my weakness in this post. Please know it is not intended to hurt feelings. This blog is my safe place to release my pain and help myself work through my grief.**
A few weeks ago, I sliced my toenail halfway down really deep on a water slide. It was so painful. I couldn't wear a shoe for quite a while. I was grateful it was summer and flip-flops were my regular foot attire. After I bandaged it, I noticed right away how many times my kids step on my toes, how many times I kneel and put pressure on the tops of my feet, how many times the muscle in my toes flex when I walk, and how much air goes whooshing over my toes. Every single thing I did was so painful! And all the little things that happen to feet that normally go completely unnoticed were extremely magnified. I became painfully aware of something I had never noticed before. After avoiding shoes, running, and carefully choosing what I exposed my toe to, the cut was able to close and begin to heal. I am still careful with my toe, and the toenail will need time to regrow, but it is making progress, and isn't as painful as it first was.
I have another deep wound. My heart is broken and hurts every minute of every day. And everywhere I go, there are conversations, and reminders that bump and rip open the scab that is forming on my wounded heart. The amount of times that pregnancy and babies come up in conversation goes unnoticed until it is something you are sensitive to. Like with my toe, I am astonished at how even the air whooshing by, can sometimes be a painful reminder on my open wound. Clarifying this, it doesn't cause me pain to talk about my baby. And I love to hear others say her name. Sadly, she is not spoken of enough. Being around very pregnant women and babies is what often stirs up emotion.
I am angry that I had to carry and give birth to a precious baby I don't get to raise. I loved her so much and wanted her to live so badly!!! I feel so cheated!!! Its so hard to go to activities with so many babies around and not have my baby in my arms. It's so hard to be left out of that when I gave birth to a baby, too. I see new moms enjoying and showing off their babies, snuggling them, and I just want to scream; I am really struggling right now with having empty arms. I can go home and squeeze and pretend to burp Tesslee Bear, or wrap my Ellee up, cradle and rock her all I can, but it doesn't stop the pain. I miss my baby girl so much!
It's very difficult for me to be around people who have not grieved the loss of a baby, yet have such high expectations of me. It's hard for me to be around people who do not ask how I'm doing anymore, because it's been long enough in their terms. Or those who ask, but don't really have the time to listen as I answer their question. I've noticed that I am beginning to withdraw from those I don't feel completely support me. I need unconditional love right now, I need acceptance. I need to know that even in my weakest moments, when I feel too weak to be around what was ripped from me, that it is alright, I am still loved, and I am enough- just as I am. I need to know that I can have all the time it takes to heal my heart.
A few weeks ago, I sliced my toenail halfway down really deep on a water slide. It was so painful. I couldn't wear a shoe for quite a while. I was grateful it was summer and flip-flops were my regular foot attire. After I bandaged it, I noticed right away how many times my kids step on my toes, how many times I kneel and put pressure on the tops of my feet, how many times the muscle in my toes flex when I walk, and how much air goes whooshing over my toes. Every single thing I did was so painful! And all the little things that happen to feet that normally go completely unnoticed were extremely magnified. I became painfully aware of something I had never noticed before. After avoiding shoes, running, and carefully choosing what I exposed my toe to, the cut was able to close and begin to heal. I am still careful with my toe, and the toenail will need time to regrow, but it is making progress, and isn't as painful as it first was.
I have another deep wound. My heart is broken and hurts every minute of every day. And everywhere I go, there are conversations, and reminders that bump and rip open the scab that is forming on my wounded heart. The amount of times that pregnancy and babies come up in conversation goes unnoticed until it is something you are sensitive to. Like with my toe, I am astonished at how even the air whooshing by, can sometimes be a painful reminder on my open wound. Clarifying this, it doesn't cause me pain to talk about my baby. And I love to hear others say her name. Sadly, she is not spoken of enough. Being around very pregnant women and babies is what often stirs up emotion.
I am angry that I had to carry and give birth to a precious baby I don't get to raise. I loved her so much and wanted her to live so badly!!! I feel so cheated!!! Its so hard to go to activities with so many babies around and not have my baby in my arms. It's so hard to be left out of that when I gave birth to a baby, too. I see new moms enjoying and showing off their babies, snuggling them, and I just want to scream; I am really struggling right now with having empty arms. I can go home and squeeze and pretend to burp Tesslee Bear, or wrap my Ellee up, cradle and rock her all I can, but it doesn't stop the pain. I miss my baby girl so much!
It's very difficult for me to be around people who have not grieved the loss of a baby, yet have such high expectations of me. It's hard for me to be around people who do not ask how I'm doing anymore, because it's been long enough in their terms. Or those who ask, but don't really have the time to listen as I answer their question. I've noticed that I am beginning to withdraw from those I don't feel completely support me. I need unconditional love right now, I need acceptance. I need to know that even in my weakest moments, when I feel too weak to be around what was ripped from me, that it is alright, I am still loved, and I am enough- just as I am. I need to know that I can have all the time it takes to heal my heart.
Friday, September 28, 2012
Dream
Last night I had a dream. In it was our white crib, all set up and ready for baby. I was so excited to see it, picture perfect, just as every mother imagines her new baby's bed to be. I peered inside. To my horror it was filled with mud. Mud was everywhere, all over the beautiful, clean, blankets. I began frantically trying to clean it up. No matter how hard I scrubbed, the mud came back and filled the crib even more. The blankets were stained and dirty. I woke up frightened, my heart racing. I sat in bed, thinking, even in my dreams I can't escape it. How do I heal these deep, emotional wounds? This is something I need to figure out.
Wednesday, September 26, 2012
Emotional
I am supposed to be taking a test right now for my Economics class, but there is no way I can focus on that when my heart hurts like this. I'm not sure what I will end up writing, but I'm going to type my pain away so I can get a good grade on my test.
I am so weary of having such strong emotions at any given time! Mostly anger, anger like I've never felt before. The kind that has to destroy something. I wish I had a punching bag or had a room I could lock myself in and kick and throw stuff and cry my eyes out until I felt better.
I wish I was stronger, that I wouldn't feel like that, I wish that I could just accept and be at peace that my baby is not going to be with us. I wish I could hold my baby again. I miss her so much. I miss that whole little life. I'm so glad Ellee let me wrap her in a blanket and rock her while I sang a lullaby. It feels good to hold my Ellee in my arms like a baby, although she barely fits. I close my eyes and kiss her sweet knuckles. I dream what it would be like to kiss Tesslee's.
I wish I could stay in my house forever with my family and laugh and play games and watch movies and never leave. I hate that I have to prepare my mind whenever I leave my house and hope I am strong enough to get through all the stings that prick my heart in a single trip to the grocery store.
I look at Mike and the kids and desperately hope that I have another day with each of them. I love them so much. They could be taken away in a second. I have been blessed to have so much time with each of them. Not enough, though. There is no "It always happens to someone else" anymore. We have become that someone else, and I'm scared there is more to come.
I'm so sick of people wondering why I am having hard days, like I'm really going to be over my child dying or something. I'm sick of people implying that since my baby wasn't full-term it shouldn't hurt as much, ... like she was any less loved than my other kids? Seriously? A premature baby is just as loved as any other child. A child is a child. I love each of my children with all my heart, and I will never get over my sweet baby dying. Ever. I know people mean well, I have to remind myself they just don't know.
Its so hard to feel anger, sadness, peace, gratitude, love, more anger, numbness, shock, fierce anger, desperation, fear, loneliness, and heartache continually, while being expected to function normally and laugh and carry on conversations and pretend I'm not dead inside. A part of me died with my baby. I'm trying to work my way through and be at peace with not having Tesslee with us. This is definitely a journey.
It's really hard for me to watch the world keep on going like nothing ever happened, when my heart feels so stunned. I feel so shaken. There is a deep void in my heart. It's been six months.
How long am I going to feel like this? Is this normal for a grieving mom? I wonder. Its hard for me to feel like such a continual nut case! I used to be on top of things.
We took a much needed drive up the canyon the other evening. It was so refreshing to leave all my emotions in the valley and walk through nature and enjoy the beautiful mountain peaks and the fall leaves and crisp air. I could not believe how vibrant the colors are this year! I wish we could've stayed up there. It was so refreshing to get away.
Ok, now I'm going to go take my test.
I am so weary of having such strong emotions at any given time! Mostly anger, anger like I've never felt before. The kind that has to destroy something. I wish I had a punching bag or had a room I could lock myself in and kick and throw stuff and cry my eyes out until I felt better.
I wish I was stronger, that I wouldn't feel like that, I wish that I could just accept and be at peace that my baby is not going to be with us. I wish I could hold my baby again. I miss her so much. I miss that whole little life. I'm so glad Ellee let me wrap her in a blanket and rock her while I sang a lullaby. It feels good to hold my Ellee in my arms like a baby, although she barely fits. I close my eyes and kiss her sweet knuckles. I dream what it would be like to kiss Tesslee's.
I wish I could stay in my house forever with my family and laugh and play games and watch movies and never leave. I hate that I have to prepare my mind whenever I leave my house and hope I am strong enough to get through all the stings that prick my heart in a single trip to the grocery store.
I look at Mike and the kids and desperately hope that I have another day with each of them. I love them so much. They could be taken away in a second. I have been blessed to have so much time with each of them. Not enough, though. There is no "It always happens to someone else" anymore. We have become that someone else, and I'm scared there is more to come.
I'm so sick of people wondering why I am having hard days, like I'm really going to be over my child dying or something. I'm sick of people implying that since my baby wasn't full-term it shouldn't hurt as much, ... like she was any less loved than my other kids? Seriously? A premature baby is just as loved as any other child. A child is a child. I love each of my children with all my heart, and I will never get over my sweet baby dying. Ever. I know people mean well, I have to remind myself they just don't know.
Its so hard to feel anger, sadness, peace, gratitude, love, more anger, numbness, shock, fierce anger, desperation, fear, loneliness, and heartache continually, while being expected to function normally and laugh and carry on conversations and pretend I'm not dead inside. A part of me died with my baby. I'm trying to work my way through and be at peace with not having Tesslee with us. This is definitely a journey.
It's really hard for me to watch the world keep on going like nothing ever happened, when my heart feels so stunned. I feel so shaken. There is a deep void in my heart. It's been six months.
How long am I going to feel like this? Is this normal for a grieving mom? I wonder. Its hard for me to feel like such a continual nut case! I used to be on top of things.
We took a much needed drive up the canyon the other evening. It was so refreshing to leave all my emotions in the valley and walk through nature and enjoy the beautiful mountain peaks and the fall leaves and crisp air. I could not believe how vibrant the colors are this year! I wish we could've stayed up there. It was so refreshing to get away.
Ok, now I'm going to go take my test.
Saturday, September 22, 2012
Aware
It's been an emotional few days. The pain of others jumps out at me. It is everywhere. I watched a mother cat as she tried to protect her kitten, but could not. I noticed how concerned she was for her baby's safety. I know that pain. My heart broke... I layed awake thinking of the angel mom giving birth to her second angel the other night. I hurt for her... I am aware of the pain of living daily as the odd one out. There are many, in many different situations who feel lonely, too... I could barely get through a chapter in Economics that discussed the pregnancies of slave mothers. 35% ended in miscarriage or stillbirth. I read that statistic over and over again, and my heart was ripped out. I cannot imagine the pain these women silently endured... The friend who is battling breast cancer, and now brain cancer... The child uncomfortable at school because they were made fun of... The struggling families we are collecting cans of food for...
I look "normal" on the outside, but inside I am fragile. How many people I come in contact with each day are faking smiles and trying so hard to keep it together, too? For all of you, my heart breaks. I cry at night for you. I am with you, I wish you did not have to suffer. If only I could ease your pain.
Going through this has made me a better person. I thought I had compassion before losing Tesslee. But having to fight every minute to stay afloat for months is forging an understanding of compassion I could never have developed otherwise. I am grateful for this gift. While I continue to battle my emotions daily and learn to accept a different life plan than what I had in mind, I am hopeful that Heavenly Father has an even greater plan for me than I could ever have imagined. That is the plan I want for my life, and I am on my way.
I look "normal" on the outside, but inside I am fragile. How many people I come in contact with each day are faking smiles and trying so hard to keep it together, too? For all of you, my heart breaks. I cry at night for you. I am with you, I wish you did not have to suffer. If only I could ease your pain.
Going through this has made me a better person. I thought I had compassion before losing Tesslee. But having to fight every minute to stay afloat for months is forging an understanding of compassion I could never have developed otherwise. I am grateful for this gift. While I continue to battle my emotions daily and learn to accept a different life plan than what I had in mind, I am hopeful that Heavenly Father has an even greater plan for me than I could ever have imagined. That is the plan I want for my life, and I am on my way.
"Shew me thy ways, O Lord;
teach me thy paths.
Lead me in thy truth, and teach me:
for thou are the God of my salvation,
on thee do I wait all the day."
- Psalms 25: 4-5
Monday, September 17, 2012
Six Months
Yesterday marked six months without Tesslee, and this milestone brought with it a range of emotions. Its hard not to think what I should be doing right now... propping pillows behind her back as she begins to sit on her own, enjoying the attention everyone just can't help but give her, and lugging her car seat around everywhere I go. I'm desperately trying to keep my mind from wandering. But as it continually happens, I take a deep breath, and try to bury it in my thoughts...again. Curse you, Life, for leaving my baby behind! It seems like only yesterday, but it has already been a half a year, a half a year.
I'm very torn inside. I don't want my human-ness and grief to define her milestones. I really wanted this day to be a celebration of where Tesslee is right now, that she's been in a beautiful place for six months. That she is not sad, and is not my baby waiting around in Heaven for me to hold her. I know she is very busy in a glorious place, a place she would never wish to leave.
It's hard to experience all of these emotions and thoughts in the same day, in the same minute. I knew that I needed to be kind to myself, so I bought myself a remembrance candle, one that reminded me of Tess. Having a flame burning in her honor brought a lot of warmth to my soul as I watched it dance and glow for my angel.
I have been very blessed to have such a supportive family, and this blog has helped me to remember that. I seem to forget it quickly. Yesterday family surprised me, again, by showing so much compassion and sensitivity to what I might be going through.
My sisters got together earlier in the week and planned a special dinner for our family, incorporating all of our favorite foods together into one meal- so creative. BBQ chicken, potato bar, sushi, lasagna, grilled cheese sandwiches, broccoli, and fruit snacks, complete with bubblegum-flavored cupcakes (fabulous!) and bubblegum ice cream for dessert, in honor of Tesslee's bubblegum addiction.
It was so very sweet of them to treat our family to such a yummy, thoughtful dinner. And they were so right, cooking dinner was far from my mind. To have each of our favorite foods represented was such a fun way to eat a meal. It really turned it into a celebration and a fun memory. Afterward, we spent some time with Tesslee and took her flowers and a note.
Acknowledging this milestone more as a 1/2 birthday really helped me get through what could've been a really hard day. After I got home, I checked my email, and found that my brother had written me a beautiful message acknowledging Tesslee's six month mark, and the special angel she is to our family. He also mentioned that Adeline, Tesslee's baby cousin, wore purple today just for Tess. It meant so much to me!
I went to bed feeling at peace and very grateful for the beautiful angel in my life, as well as the wonderful, caring family I have. A big Thank You to all my brothers and sisters for helping me through this milestone.
I'm very torn inside. I don't want my human-ness and grief to define her milestones. I really wanted this day to be a celebration of where Tesslee is right now, that she's been in a beautiful place for six months. That she is not sad, and is not my baby waiting around in Heaven for me to hold her. I know she is very busy in a glorious place, a place she would never wish to leave.
It's hard to experience all of these emotions and thoughts in the same day, in the same minute. I knew that I needed to be kind to myself, so I bought myself a remembrance candle, one that reminded me of Tess. Having a flame burning in her honor brought a lot of warmth to my soul as I watched it dance and glow for my angel.
I have been very blessed to have such a supportive family, and this blog has helped me to remember that. I seem to forget it quickly. Yesterday family surprised me, again, by showing so much compassion and sensitivity to what I might be going through.
My sisters got together earlier in the week and planned a special dinner for our family, incorporating all of our favorite foods together into one meal- so creative. BBQ chicken, potato bar, sushi, lasagna, grilled cheese sandwiches, broccoli, and fruit snacks, complete with bubblegum-flavored cupcakes (fabulous!) and bubblegum ice cream for dessert, in honor of Tesslee's bubblegum addiction.
Acknowledging this milestone more as a 1/2 birthday really helped me get through what could've been a really hard day. After I got home, I checked my email, and found that my brother had written me a beautiful message acknowledging Tesslee's six month mark, and the special angel she is to our family. He also mentioned that Adeline, Tesslee's baby cousin, wore purple today just for Tess. It meant so much to me!
I went to bed feeling at peace and very grateful for the beautiful angel in my life, as well as the wonderful, caring family I have. A big Thank You to all my brothers and sisters for helping me through this milestone.
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