Tag: my story

I Know Who I Married

stephaniemoorewrites

A couple months after Rory passed, I was reminded that many marriages, that experience a child loss, end with divorce.

I understand.

Life is hard for each individual person in our family. Lance and I each have a backpack filled with emotional boulders, disappointment rocks, and day to day rubble.

When life is already heavy, it sometimes feels impossible to take on someone else’s struggles.

But that’s key in a relationship.

But that also feels impossible.

I want to say, “I can’t take that on. I can’t deal with that right now.”

I have said it.

Until I can take a deep breath and look at my hubby.

The one I picked 19 years ago. And every day since.

The one that I’ve struggled infertility with.

The one I travel with.

The one that supports me in my goals.

The one that I had 4 kids with.

The one that provides for our family.

There’s a line in Hamilton, “I know who I married.”

It’s true, I know that man I married.

More importantly, I know the man that has stood by my side for 19 years.

I know the more amazing man he continues to become.

Our relationship is worth fighting for.

He’s worth far more than the extra weight that might get thrown my way every once in a while.

A Moment

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Eating some McDonalds in her honor.

Emotions are draining.

So tiring.

The 13th was exhausting.

But.

In the middle of the day. I was sitting in the chair that I rocked all four of my babies with.

I had a sense of peace roll over me. A lift of my burden. For a few seconds.

In the year, this has only happened twice. Each time for only seconds.

I know it was the wave of good thoughts, of prayers, of love being sent our way.

Thank you.

Love you.

One Year

stephaniemoorewrites

Minutes

Hours

Days

Weeks

One year.

To some extent, it feels arbitrary. We’ve already had 364 tear-stained days. Why does 365 hurt more?

It’s the memories.

The missing.

Getting through firsts.

The sad realization that this one year is indicative of the rest of our lives.

I think it’d be easier to stay curled up in bed today.

Instead, I’m going to hug my boys, my husband, my family.

I want to share her love today. To remember her. To honor her.

She was light.

She is light.

She will always be light.

In My Arms

stephaniemoorewrites

She was placed in my arms,

The moment she was born.

I rocked her in my arms,

When she needed to sleep.

I held her in my arms,

When she was hurt.

I cuddled her in my arms,

When she awoke in the mornings.

I squeezed her in my arms,

When she ran to me after school.

I kissed her while in my arms,

Almost every day of her life.

I carried her in my arms,

As she passed away from this life.

I have emptier arms now,

As she’s no longer here.

But she left my arms,

To be enveloped in His.

Now, I’ll fill my arms,

With those that she loved.

Until my arms surround,

Her once again.

Final Resting Place

stephaniemoorewrites

One of the decisions that needed to be made, and rather quickly, was the final resting place. Again, not something we’d ever thought about for one of our kids. Heck, even ourselves!

Lance and I are from Arizona. We lived about ten years in Maryland. We moved to Utah to live closer to family while our kids were growing up.

Our house had just sold, we were about to move an hour from where we were living.

Nothing felt right.

After laying in bed half the night thinking, I told Lance, “I think we should cremate her.”

Without hesitation, he agreed.

The above are very physical reason. There was a big emotional one:

We couldn’t bear to be parted from her yet.

This is all that remains of the body of our beautiful, spirited daughter that was constantly making us laugh.

We were not ready to let go.

So, we picked a vibrant urn, that reminded us of her. Her resting place is with us. In our family room.

It’s not the right choice for everyone but it was for us.

The Rory corner of our family room.