one year

one year. a full circle. life. loss. celebration. grief.


today marks one year that we lost parker grace. if i were in control, today would be sunny and i could go on a long run by myself and cleanse my thoughts, sadness and have some serious talks with god. but it's a blizzard and running in a blizzard isn't too fun. and you know what? there is something incredibly peaceful about the snow right now. about knowing i'm going to be snowed in today with my two favorite people.


it's been a year for the books. we've loved and we've lost. we've felt the pinnacle of joy and the deepest pit of grief. and we are on the other side. our little family of three weathered the storm together and is stronger for it.


i remember it like it was yesterday. in so many ways i have been dreading this day. dreading facing the emotions that would inevitably come with it  dreading the memories. sadness, the loss, the tears. but honestly, today feels totally peaceful. its so weird to think that i've carried this sadness, this loss for one whole year. i hope that today can be a celebration. a celebration of two lives...one way too short, and another vibrant and healthy...who likes to scoot backwards across the floor. :)


i need to go back to the day, to relive it in hopes that i can move on. i don't want to forget the details, but i need to release them. i want these memories to be in our family book. i want campbell someday (not any time soon) to know about these days. these days make up a large part of who she is. she is a fighter. i know in my heart she is a fighter because of those dark days last february.


if it makes you feel weird or uncomfortable, don't read it...it's totally fine. i'm writing this for me. and for our family.

i remember the details in surprising clarity. i remember working out with a friend that morning. i remember getting dressed for work in my new shoes from nine west that i had just bought on our trip to CO that weekend. i remember a friend at work telling me i looked "twinsy". i remember being 20 minutes early for my appointment at the perinatologist because i was so excited to see my girls. i remember watching dr. ridgeway looking at both girls, opting to examine campbell first... (did he know already?) everything looking good with C. then looking at parker. and not seeing a heartbeat. hearing "this doesn't look good". i remember her tiny, perfectly still body on the screen.  i kept thinking her motionless heart would start moving. he must be wrong. he said it looked like twin to twin transfusion. i said it couldn't be - our OB had said they weren't at risk for that at all. they were in the lowest risk category. i remember him saying, "your OB was wrong".  ouch. my heart was beating so hard, i couldn't talk or think. he told me we were at a risk of losing campbell now. i was 22 weeks pregnant and i needed to get to 25. i needed to be prepared to deliver at any time past that. and still there might be complications.  it just kept snowballing.  he gave me kleenex and i tried to repeat everything he told me three times so that i wouldn't get confused in the emotion of the moment. i had to be able to give all of the medical details to my doctor husband who was unable to get off work that day. i remember his nurse giving me pictures of both babies. i remember knowing i had to call mat.  i had to get out of the office. the nurse showed me out the back door. (guess it doesn't make for good business to walk a sobbing pregnant lady out in front of other patients.) i sat in the parking lot and called mat. (how do you make that call?) how do you tell your husband that one of his daughters has died and one  is at a risk of dying in the next weeks. we both cried. i drove myself home with the help of a friend on my phone. i couldn't bear the thought of sitting there waiting for mat to come get me. i had to get home. we got home at the same time and sat on the couch and wept. i knew i needed to call my parents but i couldn't. my mom was in the middle of teaching and i couldn't do that to her. i waited until she called on her way home from work. i couldn't call my friends so i texted them and told them the news, but that i didn't want to talk to anyone. i couldn't speak the words. speaking them meant that it was real. 
the rest of the night was a blur. we spent a lot of time on our white couch, just crying and holding each other. we weren't hungry, but needed to eat. mat went to the grocery store to pick up dinner. we had planned on celebrating that night. instead he lost it in the soup aisle. he came home, we cried, we held each other and we waited. we didn't know what for, but we waited. i remember waking up at 3 the next morning. the pain of reality slowly sinking in. i just suddenly knew i needed to write a post about what had happened. i needed people to pray. pray for c, pray for us. 
the next days are a blur of friends stopping by for visits & with meals, flowers from friends both near and far, family showing up...my parents driving up the next morning. my brother driving in from colorado after telling his fellow what had happened and his fellow telling him to head to KS; doctor's appointments, cards, text messages, emails, phone calls, lunch dates made just so i would have a reason to get out of bed. two of my best friends driving up at the last minute just to hug me and hold me.  a complete blur.  


and through all that pain comes unspeakable joy. the joy of carrying the rest of pregnancy past term. to delivering a healthy baby. the joy of forming friendships with other mamas who have gone through something similar. mama's like megan and cassie. friendships through unfortunate circumstances that have provided mountains of strength to me.  the joy of watching campbell hope smile up at me...laugh at me. it is my hope that both of my girls have made me a better mama than i would have been. a mom who actually appreciates the loud, colicky cry of her baby in the middle of the night because it means that her baby is there. is alive and well. a mama who probably holds her baby a little too much, just because she can.


parker will forever be apart of our family. i don't know what it will look like, how we will share her with C, but she will always be one of our babies. Feb. 1 will be our day to celebrate her little life. 


to all of you reading our blog who have followed our journey, thank you. whether you are close friends and family, coworkers, were given the link from a prayer list, or just a random blog stalker. thank you. thank you for your wishes, prayers, strength, hope & love. i seriously wish i could meet each one of you, give you a hug and tell you how much your prayers have meant to us. it touches my heart so deeply when i meet someone or get an email from someone i've never actually met who somehow heard about our situation and has prayed and hoped for us. 


thank you. 


campbell's life verse. literally. i prayed (and still pray) this verse over her. 

"May the God of Hope fill you with joy and peace as you trust in him, that you may overflow with hope by the power of the Holy Spirit." Romans 15:13