365 Days of Eternity

One year ago today I put our sweet Olivia back to bed after her 2am feeding. I rocked her to sleep, kissed her forehead, rubbed her cheeks, and whispered "I Love You, Sleep Well." Little did I know, as I quietly pulled the door shut and crawled back into bed beside Sara, that I had just spent my last moments with our precious Peanut.

The stillness of that Sunday morning was completely misleading, soon to be broken by the frantic cries and screams of breaking hearts and shattered lives. When I woke up to sun streaming into our room rather than cries from the baby monitor, I knew something was wrong. I checked the clock, it said 9am, a bit past Olivia's usual wake-up time. As soon as I opened the door to her room, I knew my recurring nightmare had come true. Holding my precious Olivia, still and lifeless, no cooing, no crying, no giggling, no wiggling, just still; a quiet peaceful look on her face. She had departed this life after fitting more into her 6 short months than many people experience in a lifetime.

While the sun has risen and set 365 times since Olivia left us, there is not a day that doesn't go by where she's not at the forefront of my mind. The sharpness of the pain has receded to a degree, there are still daily reminders of what should have been. I suppose it's like any chronic ache, you figure out how to function with it or around it. Seeing children around Olivia's age is the most difficult because it's a direct reminder of what is missing. At times it also is difficult to believe that we were lucky enough to be with her for 6 months. As that time gets pushed into the distance and her absence becomes longer, the surreality of it strikes me more and more.

The most difficult times are the unique events in life we'll never get to share with her. We got up to watch some of the Perseid Meteor Shower the other night all the while thinking that Olivia would never get to experience such wonders of our world/universe. I did wish upon one of the 'shooting stars' for Olivia to find the peace and health she so well deserved in her life but wasn't blessed with.

I'll close with a Poem I wrote shortly after Olivia's death and a Song that's helped me a lot this last year.

Sleep Well
with your eyes of steel blue,
you pierced my heart.


with your red-golden locks,
you bound my heart to yours

with your toothless smile,
you stole my heart.

with your delicate fingers,
you held my heart.

with your laugh and giggle,
you tickled my heart.

with your cry,
you broke my heart.

with your silence,
you tore my soul asunder.

sleep well my angel,
you will be forever in our hearts.

OAH 2/19/09 - 8/16/09

Every December Sky by Beth Nielsen Chapman

Every December sky
Must lose its faith in leaves
And dream of the spring inside the trees.
How heavy the empty heart,
How light the heart that's full.
Sometimes I have to trust what I can't know
Sometimes I have to trust what I can't know
We walk into Paradise;
The angels lend us shoes.
'Cause all that we own,
We'll come to lose,
And Heaven is not so far
Outside this womb of words.
With every rose that blooms
My soul is assured
It's just like a song I've known
Yet still unheard.
And every leaf of fire lets go,
Melting in the arms of earth and snow.
And if I could hold you now,
You'd enter like a sigh.
You'd be the wind that blows
The answer to why?
You'd be the spring-filled trees
Of every December sky.