oops

I have not wanted Thanksgiving Day to occur this year.  Willa's due date has been in my head "the day after Thanksgiving" since the moment the doctor reported her findings.  When the question came from people about her miraculous, anticipated arrival, and when we made plans for the upcoming season, that was the answer I gave.  I could have said November 28th, but in my heart and head, there was something special and sweet about her joining our family during the season when people seem to show the most gratitude.  We were so grateful for her and her birth, and it seemed to be such a fitting detail to the story of her life. I had imagined that I would still be eagerly anticipating her birth, or recuperating in the hospital with my healthy baby girl close by today.  What I hadn't ever even considered was being 6 weeks postpartum, completely recovered from a c-section, with empty arms, longing for my baby, and caught somewhere between the emotions of gratitude and grief.

We all have times when life feels hard; when we are frustrated and tired and just want to hide away.  If that's right now, don't worry - every caterpillar has to rest to become a butterfly and you'll soon find your wings again.  In the mean time, let your Angels wrap you in theirs.  You are so loved  - Anna Taylor It seems like yesterday and forever all at the same time.  How is it possible that a month has already passed since I first looked in to Willa's eyes?  I remember thinking that we would be in NICU at least until Thanksgiving.  I remember telling her dad the only gift I wanted for Christmas was to have my baby home.   It has started snowing.  It seems awful early, but I would rather just fast forward through this holiday season anyway.  At first I worried about her body buried deep in the cold ground, and that made me want to cuddle her.  I seem to be feeling extra cold these days, especially with all the cold weather.  I was worried about her being too cold.  

Dear Willa, I brought you fresh daisies today - the last of the flowers given to us for your services. A big bouquet arrived from an anonymous giver the day after.  They have been beautiful to look at as we try to live each day without you.  I cleaned up the old dead flowers, and also put down your new wreath.  It is the only way I feel I can take care of you while I am still here, and you are in Heaven.  And then I remembered - Daddy  hates daisies.  He has a reason, and there is a story.  I would love to hear Grandma Sharon's version of why she chose to remove grass and plant a yard full of daisies, You should ask her to tell you her story while you are there together.  I am told that your dad (and siblings) had the task of weeding the "patch" of daisies.  Out of such chores grew a hatred for them. I love daisies.  I think they are beautiful and yet such simple flowers.  They can grow pretty heartily in harsh conditions - much like my life, and the ways that our Heav

Today was big brother's last participation in our church's annual event - the Primary Program.  It is held during our congregational meeting, lasting about an hour, and is the chance for all our children to show the congregation the songs and gospel truths they have learned throughout the year.   I loved watching him participate, knowing that within just a few months he will be graduating on to bigger and better things.  He is the tallest kid in the group, and to top it off he is sporting a neon green cast from thumb to shoulder covering the arm he broke the night before Willa's funeral.  He smiles.  I am not sure he is excited that his favorite aunt showed up as a surprise, or if he is glad this is the last time he has to do this.   It has been hard to return to full church attendance.  I am not mad at God or fading in my beliefs. I am just empty, and going reminds me of just that.  A a few weeks ago, I was one of six expectant mothers sharing stories of due dates, sleeple