SD and a hard day

The days before and even after Malaya's EDD turned out to be harder than the actual day.

Our trip to San Diego proved to be helpful to our souls. On Friday, King and I set out with Macky, JoAnn, and Baby Noah. They are like family to us. I'm calling them my unofficial cousins. That night, Leo and Judy joined us--again, our dear friends.

In the evening, King and I sent up balloons with fun sticker faces on them. (We bought the helium tank at Party City because we figured this isn't the last time that we'll be sending up a note) Later, as I thought about it the faces were pretty appropriate because King and I are kinda that way...we're both pretty laid back and can be silly. It was like giving Malaya a chance to get to know us.



King made the blue balloon and I made the purple one. My balloon was kinda droopy, so we attached a yellow one to be in the middle so we'd know it would fly.
It turned out to be quite symbolic in that the yellow one was the higher flying balloon. It seemed as if it was leading the other two up to the sky. King said as we were walking away from the beach, that the yellow balloon was like Jesus, the center of our relationship. He was leading the way, making sure our love and our notes get sent up to Heaven.

On Saturday, Arnel (a long time friend) and King's cousins, Mark and Dennis, joined us. We went to crowded Mission Beach and I got sunburned. When we went back to our hotel, I took a nap and when I woke up I decided to walk along the beach by myself. It was good to be outside, but then I realized that the sand reminded me of my baby. The texture of the sand was pretty fine, and there were a lot of small pieces of broken white shells mixed in. It reminded me of her ashes and her little pieces of bone. It was like walking on a ground so sacred...

On Sunday, King and I slept in and then we all had lunch in Little Italy. Afterward, we picked up some yummyness at Extraordinary Desserts...ooo-la-la!

Overall, our trip to San Diego was actually quite fun and filled with much laughter.
Yesterday, however, I had one of the hardest days since Malaya died. My good friend and King's cousin just gave birth within five days of each other. Part of me rejoices for brand new lives and part of me sorrows because of Malaya's death. When we were all pregnant we all looked forward to having our kids grow up with each other...but now, that's just not gonna happen.

The absoluteness of Malaya's death was made so real by the birth of these two boys. My baby really is gone. I was so sad at the contrast of the utter joy that they are experiencing after giving birth versus the stings and punches of sorrow that King and I have been feeling. I cried and cried throughout the whole day, King held me when he got home from work. And then we went to the gym and I let the spinning class be a way to get out my frustrations. I felt better, but I think I'm coming down with something. I couldn't sleep til 3:30am and even afterward I got up a few times. I feel so icky... Ay-yay-yay.

What a ride of ups and downs (and middles), highs and lows (and in-betweens), joys and sorrows (and just being), laughter and tears (and sitting and thinking). What can I do but embrace every moment?

April 3rd in San Diego - Her due date is just one day closer...

So, King and I will be getting away for the weekend again. Last time it was in SB and now it's gonna be in SD (San Diego). In Santa Barbara, it was all so new and I was still fairly numb from the shock. Now, as we go down south to San Diego reality has set in and we are already familiar with the truth of her death and the anguish that comes with it.

Had Malaya gone all the way to term, her estimated due date would be tomorrow--April 3rd. This week has been a strange, depressing week for me. King's been feeling it, too. It's as if I've been going through daily activities while walking in a fog. My eyes have been stinging in the afternoons because they are so dry and tired. Thoughts of the realities of what could have been had she been healthy come in and out of my head all day. We could have heard her cry...we could have been three instead of two...we could have been learning how to carefully give her a bath...we could have only had the sweet instead of the accompanying bitter...we could have had life and not death. Yet, I can't get caught in those thoughts because it's a downward spiral.

This week there have been more frequent moments of heaviness in my chest and in my throat (if I'm trying to hold in tears--which, by the way, I've learned does not help). The only way I can alleviate those feelings is to cry it out. It is a mystery to me that my body tells me what I need to do in order to grieve properly. Sadness that doesn't tell me when she's coming. She creeps up behind me and then strikes somewhere in my heart with a momentum that seems too strong. It's the grace of God that gets me through those surprising, dismal moments.

How amazingly complex we are that emotions run so deep and they must come upward and outward from within for us to find relief.

We'll be going to San Diego with some friends. These friends have been among the ones who have stood by us through this whole ordeal. I wasn't sure if we should have just planned it alone, but King wanted company and several of them have shown me that I am safe to mourn with them and they will mourn along with me. (I'm learning this--that I need people and that it's okay to not be okay with them. I don't need to smile all the time. Oh, and this has humbled me.)

Oh, God. This ache...it's so difficult to explain and even understand, yet You are fully aware of all that I'm going through. You are entirely wise and I, certainly, have no claim to know all. How does this fit into Your plan?

Sometimes at the end of the day I am comforted as I thank God because of Jesus' victory over death. Because of what He did for her and for us all by shedding His blood on the cross and how He defeated the grave, she is in Heaven. Malaya had no culpability of knowing good from evil and she had no time on earth to be able to sin blatantly. She is with God--THAT I am positively sure of. She is safe in His arms. As a follower of Jesus I know that I will also one day follow Him as I walk into the glory of eternity.

I eagerly await the day when we will be praising God and will be together with Malaya forever. This life here on earth is really so short.

A thought that gets me through some tough moments--
'One day closer to her.'

soooo tired

I am absolutely exhausted. I've been trying to get out of bed for the last hour, but everything within me says to stay put. I'm writing this on the laptop lying down. I'm gonna listen to my body and take it easy today. If I'm not coming down with something perhaps it's a combination of being both emotionally tired and physically tired.

King and I went to another session at the perinatal bereavement group last night. That was helpful to be able to listen to people and weep and rejoice with each other. At our first meeting we were told that the group would start to feel like family because there is such a strong bond that connects us. This is becoming more true as we continue to go.

Also, for the past two weeks I've been trying to get back in shape and start to lose weight, so I've been going to the gym and also going running/walking with the hubby. Physically, getting my energy out just feels right and it's great when the endorphins kick in. I think it's helping me not feel like I'm going crazy because of the roller coaster of grief I'm on. I'm doing this also because I'd like to get pregnant in a few months and want to be as healthy as I can.

I don't wanna push it, but if I'm drained for the reasons above (and not getting sick) then it's worth it. Alright, time to rest again. Good night.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

Malaya, Mommy and Daddy carry your heart in ours. We love you.

Losing a child

When you lose a parent, you lose your past.
When you lose a spouse, you lose your present...
But when you lose a child, you lose your future.

-Author Unknown

A wife who loses a husband is called a widow,
A husband who loses a wife is called a widower.
A child who loses his parents is called an orphan,
Yet there is no word for a parent who loses a child,
That’s how awful the loss is.
-Author Unknown

Out of nowhere-tears

A friend of mine sent me this song via Facebook. It brought me MUCH comfort.


I just finished a time of bawling a few minutes ago and it was right after someone sent me a text message that simply said that she is praying for me.

The first thing I thought while I was crying was, 'Is it because I'm sad that she has to be praying for me in this way? or Am I crying because I haven't been crying too hard lately and it's a buildup of emotion?'

Who can really know why?
I let those thoughts go as they turned to asking my baby to come back. I know in my head that she's not and that she can't, but somehow it just feels so right to say those words out loud.

This whole timing of when I'm going to cry is a mystery to me. That bout of tears was definitely unexpected. It's strange because sometimes the times I think I should be crying (like when I'm looking at her pictures) I don't always cry. Sometimes, I cry just from one thought of my baby. I'm going to give up trying to over-analyze the exact reasons for me crying. If I feel like it, I'm not going to hold it in. And I need not be ashamed of my tears.

One thing that helped me last week was realizing the truth of this verse - Psalm 56:8

You have taken account of my wanderings;
Put my tears into Your bottle;
Are they not in Your book?

I somehow misconstrued this verse to think that the writer says, "put my tears in my bottle". I would tell people that since I'm just naturally a crier that my bottle is SO big. What a comfort to know that I won't have anything to with my tears after I cry them...that God is so wonderful that HE takes care of all that.

The dress she'll never wear

I went to Target for the first time the other day and I was looking for something to wear because I'm in between sizes. The maternity clothes are a bit loose and the pre-maternity clothes are still too tight. As I was looking around I ended up walking through the maternity section. I stopped and asked myself, 'Am I sad?' and 'Am I ready to be here?'. I walked through it and did it. I wasn't as sad as I thought I would be.

I asked myself the same questions because I then found myself walking toward the baby section to get to another part of the store. 'Should I take the long way and walk around?'

I weighed it out in my head and thought, 'When am I ever going to be totally ready? I can do this. Help me, God.'

I thought of how at the GriefShare support group (yes, we're going to two support groups) they said that at some point we would have to start taking risks...steps of faith even in spite of the fear of pain. They talked about experiencing "firsts" where we would have our first time doing things. Like the first night alone without Malaya...that was painful. In time, there would be a type of layering as we do this activity over and over. They weren't saying it wasn't going to be difficult at times, it just wouldn't be the first time of going through it.

It has been 28 nights of sleeping without her since we came home from the hospital. The first few days I would cry myself to sleep. Now, sometimes I still cry, but it's not like the first night without her.

This would be the first time I would go through the baby section of a store without her in my tummy. Before, I would meticulously look through everything making mental notes of what I wanted to register for. That day, though, I just kept pushing my cart slowly through, longingly looking at the car seats from afar and passing by the little outfits knowing that she will never get to wear anything there. I almost got through the whole section until I came across this pretty dress:
It was the same type of material as the outfit that King picked out for Malaya that we put on her at the hospital. This one was cute and summery and the only one that caught my eye. I stood there for a few seconds touching the dress, thinking of my daughter and what she would look like with it on. I thought this would have been so cute on her for the summer, but felt a sadness because she will never get a chance to wear it. I wonder what she is wearing in Heaven...

Part of me wanted to buy the dress...for her...and then I thought, 'What am I going to do with it when I get home?' and then 'Maybe I'll have another daughter in the future and maybe she could wear this.' I decided against buying it. There was a heaviness in my chest as I let go of the dress and walked on to get my face wash.

So, anyway, I made it through. Then I went home and cried. I think this was a good day of grief.