Mothering Caroline Grace

learning how to be the mom of an angel


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Music

There are a few songs that always make me think of Caroline.  Sometimes they make me smile, and sometimes they make me cry, but they all are carried in a special place in my heart.  Sometimes music is the only way to put your finger on a feeling that you can’t quite describe.

This first song was my anthem during Caroline’s pregnancy: Brave by Sara Bareilles.  It played on the radio on the way to the hospital and while there, we found her singing it in a concert while flipping through TV channels.  I don’t think that was a coincidence.

 

This next song touched me both before and after Caroline was born: Let Her Go by Passenger.  I remember hearing it on the radio after getting Caroline’s diagnosis and bursting into tears.  I had the same experience a few weeks ago when it was again on the radio.  I didn’t want to let her go but I didn’t have a choice.

 

This final song reminds me of the love I have for my daughter: All of Me by John Legend.  It usually makes me smile, but occasionally leads to tears.  My husband claims that I ruined the song for him because I told him that it reminds me of Caroline and now he cries every time he hears it.  I don’t think I ruined it though; I think it’s the perfect love song for our little girl.

 

Missing you, Miss Caroline.


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It Comes in Waves

As I have been grieving, I have come to know that there is nothing linear about grief.  There are good days and there are bad days, sometimes with no rhyme or reason to them; you just have to ride the wave until it passes.  Yesterday was one of the bad days.

I woke up and had zero desire to get up.  I kept trying to will my muscles to move, but to no avail.  So I lay in bed, thinking about my little girl instead.

When I finally was able to get up, I still did not have the energy to do what I needed to do.  I had set a goal of cleaning my house from top to bottom, but that clearly was not going to happen.  I also had planned on doing my exercises for the day as I try to get healthy and lose my baby weight.  Instead, I watched some television and took a nap.  My husband soon came home, which helped to improve my mood, but I still had a dark cloud hanging over me.

Then I made the mistake of going on Facebook.  I saw the first pregnancy announcement since I lost my daughter.  What a swirl of emotions!  I’ll admit I ran upstairs to my bedroom to cry.  Rationally I was happy for them and worried because I know what can go wrong.  Irrationally I was jealous and sad.  Why does everyone else get their happy ending when I don’t?  If all had been well, my sweet Caroline would be starting to babble and maybe crawling and everyone would be asking how she’s doing.  Instead, I have the same desire to talk about her but talking about my angel makes everyone uncomfortable.  I hate it.  I miss her.

When we went to bed, I had my husband bring me the Caroline bunny that we made.  We went to a Build-A-Bear store after Caroline passed away and built her a bunny with rainbow-colored flowers printed on its fur.  It was something that my husband had talked about doing for her before she passed on, and it felt right to still get it for her.  We have it dressed in one of Caroline’s dresses and it is the most huggable bunny – perfect for parents with empty arms.

I was holding the bunny and trying to fall asleep, when suddenly I became aware of the song that was playing in my head.  Call me crazy, but I think Caroline put it there.  There was no reason it should have popped into my head.

I think my daughter was trying to tell me that she’s not in pain and she’s happy now.  I will never think of this song or this scene the same way again.

I love you, Caroline.