Tomorrow it’s exactly a year ago. I’ve received a few questions on how I’m doing. There are just so many things I want to tell her. I would tell her how even in my happiest moment there’s always a tinge of sadness. I still sometimes can’t believe it happened the way it did. And how I survived. The pain turned into this companion in my life we call grief. I once thought of grief as a process, but now I know it more as an act of love. A part of life that is constantly changing but always present. Always.

Everyone thinks I’m doing great because they don’t see me cry. And it’s true, I have been doing okay lately but I want to scream at them at the same time. If they only knew how much pain I feel every single day. There has not been a day yet that goes by where I don’t have many thoughts about Noe. Of our short time together. Of what it would be like if our fate had been different. Is she had lived. Of what our lives should be like. Sometimes I feel weak, like a piece of me is missing and while I try to live my life without that piece, I just don’t know how. Of course these days of despair don’t happen as often as they once did, but when they do it feels just like it did the days after she died. It’s almost a year ago and this isn’t a dream. She wasn’t a dream. I look through her pictures and after a few minutes a peaceful calm comes over me. As long as I have these pictures, I will never forget her face. As long as I hold and touch her things, I can feel close to her. She was real.

The pain was back when the calender turned over to May. When I first saw May on the calender my heart hurt. How can it possibly be here already? But it was. I simply can’t believe that it’s been a year since she was born. I knew when I found out I was pregnant she would change our lives. I just had no idea the impact she would truly have. 

How do you even begin to explain the love for a child that you had so little time with, yet made such an impact on your heart. Someone told me; ‘At least you didn’t know her.’ I did know her, though. I met her when I first saw her image on the ultrasound screen, when we first heard her beating heart. My relationship grew each day that I carried her. I watched my belly grow and I had dreams for her. I knew the dreams I had; Her first smile, her first tooth, her first steps and all the dreams that should have filled a lifetime. Simple things, like her first day at school, her first kiss, watch her fall in love etc. Things that I will never get to experience with er. So much of the pain is not just for the few moments that I did have, but the thousands that I won’t.

I realized this last week that for the rest of my life, I’ll wonder what she would be doing now. This year, her first year, she would be playing peek-a-boo, taking her first wobbly steps, smiling at me with birthday cake smashed all over her face, saying mama and giving me sweet baby kisses. I would be pushing a stroller. And that is only the first year. What about a lifetime of dreams I had for Noe.  

Tomorrow it’s all a year ago. How did time went by so fast? 

Today was the day. The day I realised my period was late. Nothing to worry about, I thought back then. A year, how does one get here so quickly? I can remember that day as it was yesterday. I want that innocence, that care-free attitude back. I feel the strings in my heart starting to tighten up and tears come much more easily than they did just a few weeks ago. This is also the reason I decided to go to the docter. I felt so depressed lately. I’m back on anti depressivum again, and so far it’s a little helping. I have struggles with putting things behind me. Everyone is telling me to just get on with life and to pick up the pieces. I always thought that picking up the pieces meant getting over it. But there is no ‘getting over it’. I used to think that picking up the pieces meant that they wouldn’t fall again. But picking up the pieces is different. It’s crying when tears come to your eyes. Picking up the pieces is realizing you can’t measure your love for her by what you do or don’t do. It’s finding something to be thankful for. Picking up the pieces is lighting her candle, playing her song, giving her time when I need it. It’s breaking dishes, slamming the door or screaming as loud as I can. It’s being okay with disappointing some people, you’ll never please everyone. It’s being okay that the old me is gone, forever. Picking up the pieces is embracing the ugly side of grief. 

They say healing takes time. In most cases it does. You know, with a scraped knee or a lung transplant. But often healing becomes confused with having no pain at all. But healing is not erasing what happened, but rather learning to live with it. Healing in and of itself is a pure indicator that something devastating has happened. Something painful, maybe even life-threatening. Healing - with time - becomes possible, but always leaves a scar. I want my little girl. I don’t want pity or tears. I don’t even care if other people remember her anymore. Because too many times I’ve been disappointed by my expectations of others. I just want her. 

She was a real baby. A real life. A real death. Sometimes life doesn’t make sense at all. 

Today I decided I will stop counting they days/months from the day you died. It’s exactly 9 months and 2 weeks ago. It’s just too sad and quite frankly unproductive. It makes me slide in the direction I don’t want to go.

It’s not like grief isn’t already hard enough without counting every single fucking day how long she’s gone. I don’t think I’ll ever forget, but I just won’t make a to-do about it. 

 I miss you baby girl, I hate being sad over it, but sometimes I just can’t help it. And sometimes I just need to wrap myself in tears. It helps. Today is one of those days. Lately I wonder what it would be like with you in my life. It makes me angry at myself that I can’t make that mental picture in my head, no matter how hard I try. I’ve changed. A whole lot- in fact I don’t even feel like the old me anymore.

It’s the weirdest thing, but I know/have a strong feeling of knowing how my baby would have looked like and been like. I see a child in the store or on the street and their hair color, dimples, smile, their personality.. and suddenly I’m reminded of my little girl. And I miss her even more, if that’s even possible. I’ve lost a dream. But I know I still have so much to be thankful for. So much. But sometimes I can’t get over how much her loss, het sweet, short visit has shaken my world to the core. While life appears to go on without ever missing a beat, the ripple effect proves otherwise. She has forever changed so much. Cause babies are not supposed to die. End of story. 

monstermothern asked: Hi! I Just found your blog, I had an miscarriage in 2010 and I know it's not easy (actually was really hard for me) but you will feel better eventually, nothing will bring your lil'Noë back, like nothing will bring my Catherin back, but anyways, I just wanted to say that you are not alone... If you wanna talk don't be shy :) I wish you the best. xoxo

I’m so sorry to hear about your loss. How for along was you? And are you still together with the father of little Catherin? Thank you so much for your message. How are you doing? Is it true that when time goes by it gets easier? xoxo

gyrobowlspin asked: Hey - nice blog! Hope you don't mind if I use some of your content, they're great. New follower, can you please follow me back?

I don’t understand, why would you use my content? Did you had a miscarriage as well? xo

Anonymous asked: I've just had a miscarriage.. I am miserable.. I feel devastated. I don't know how you do. It happened yesterday.. I don't know what to do with myself..

I’m so sorry to hear that. How far along was your pregnancy? Wish you the best and if you want to talk, don’t be shy! xo

Hai little princess,

Been a while since I wrote on here. Not because I haven’t thought about you. I’m so ashamed at the way things turned out to be and I can’t stop blaming myself on the past.  I know I’m your mom, but I don’t deserve to claim you as my child. I feel as a failure because I couldn’t maintain my pregnancy with you. Miscarriage is so hard to deal with and the closure will never be complete. I’m left with the ‘what ifs’ for the rest of my life. I’ll forever miss you and always wonder what life would be like with you. 

I saw Lukas last friday. Ofcourse I see him everyday at school, but this was different. I was out to the pub with friends and he was there. He came to sit with us and Lukas and I didn’t said a thing to each other. When he went to get drinks I talkes with a friend of me about what happened and why we now ignore one another. I couldn’t help but I started crying. I was so upset. Seeing him remembered me to all the pain I felt, how alone I was.. In the middle of the pub I had a complete breakdown, haha. I know he’s not thinking about Noe anymore. I know he already forgot all we’ve been through. But it’s his good right. He was way to young and I hope he’s happy now. 

And since that friday I feel sad. I just have a tough week. Also a close friend of me is pregnant with her second. I can’t stand seeing ultrasound pictures or babystuff, It just hurts way too much. It’s extremely difficult to be happy for her, I burst into tears everytime I see a picture or update on facebook. Don’t get me wrong, I’m so proud at her and SO happy at the same time. She’s one of my best friends and I wish her all the best. But I’m kinda jealous. I feel like a horrible friend.