Six Months Later, Celebrating Her Life

 

We miss Abigail every single day.

If pebbles were thoughts of you, I'd have a beach.

Recently we were able to celebrate her half birthday (August 25, 2020) and the six month anniversary of my death and rebirth. It was a special day and we packed it with ways of remembering our sweet angel sister.

We experienced a few small miracles

No such thing as coincidences:

1) Our masks arrived from Anencephaly Hope

2) Abigail's Angel Face rose had a full bloom on it. This is the rose bush our dear friends the Crocketts gave us at her funeral.

3) I saw white butterflies flitting around in her garden throughout the day. The butterfly is the symbol of infant loss.

Image by Ronny from Pixabay 

Things we did to remember her

On Abigail's half birthday, we planted a Love Song rose bush and two lavender shrubs in her honor. What was one of the barest spots of the yard now has some pink and purple color to cheer it up. Happy Half Birthday, Abigail Réileen! 🌹

On Christmas Eve, we gave Abigail gifts, mostly things we promised to do. 

On her half birthday, we met around her grave and reread our promised gifts to her. Mine is to write a song to remember her. I've written a lot of lyrics but the music hasn't come so easily. We have four months until next Christmas.

We had cake and ice cream in honor of Abigail's half birthday. The boys were very excited about this part of the celebration. There was some argument about which ice cream flavors Abigail would prefer. (Pretty sure it's strawberry.)

Making a cake for my daughter was a very emotional experience for me. I've made a lot of dinosaur, frog, rocket, and pirate cakes. Making a baby angel girl cake was very sweet.

I'm so thankful we were able to honor Abigail on this special day. I'm thankful that my family was all together to celebrate.

Moving forward with life and goals

Fall 2020 semester began at BYU recently. I'm trying to live my life to make Abigail proud of me, and that means walking through the paths God has already set for me. Being back on campus, when the last time I was there I held her in my body, is bittersweet. Everything reminds me of her.

A statue on BYU campus

During the break for Covid-19, the Neuroscience department sent out a survey and my answers were featured in the BYU Synapse Magazine, a Neuroscience department newsletter.

BYU Synapse Magazine

This semester I've signed up for a class called Social Impact Project (SIP). It's an internship designed to help businesses and non-profits make a social impact. 

I received my SIP internship assignment and I'm going to be working with a company called Live Love Well that helps farmers in Kenya to produce and market superfood ingredients to the nutrition markets in the US. Cool, right? I've always wanted to make an impact that touched the lives of my brothers and sisters in Africa and now I have an opportunity to do that in my own small way. I'm looking forward to this semester and all the work my team will do together for this cause.

I still find joy in simple creative endeavors, like weeding Abigail's memorial garden and painting.

A few days after the six-month anniversary, I told my near-death birth story briefly to some other women who had similar experiences. We were in a zoom support group for moms in their first year after AFE (amniotic fluid embolism). My emotions are all over the place, but I'm glad I joined the discussion. Every one of us has a unique story with shared elements. Finding those similarities and differences teaches us and can be comforting. There's nothing more isolating than fearing you are the only one inside your experience.

Every day we make choices to let ourselves isolate or to make ourselves connect. That's why I felt like the quote in this picture is relevant.

The boys are so resilient and full of hope. For them it doesn't seem to be a daily struggle. Here are some pictures of our recent pond study and cleanup, organized by my friend, Ruth. 

We saw crawdads, minnows, tadpoles, scrub oak, wild rose, and more. During the cleanup we saw old boots, beer bottles, soda cans, bagged poo, and a football. Our group carried out about two bags' worth of garbage. We love Burraston Pond so we feel good about saving it from the recklessness of litterbugs.

As always, our faith in Jesus Christ is an anchor. I wrote this last week:

Been pondering this truth lately. 

When we die, we need nothing and we want nothing. We are sheltered and sustained by God's love and the peace that comes with it. As I was pondering this, a scripture came to my mind. It was, "Can ye feel so now?" Alma 5:26 

"...and if ye have felt to sing the song of redeeming love, I would ask, can ye feel so now?"

Then, like a rush of evidence to back this feeling up, other scriptures came to me.

Fear not, little flock.

Consider the lilies.

Be of good cheer.

Not even a sparrow.

Perfect love casteth out fear.

Be still and know. 

And I realized that we don't have to wait to be dead before we can need nothing and want nothing because we are embraced by the Light. With trust, we can feel that peace now. 

Mosiah 4:9-10

"Believe in God; believe that he is, and that he created all things, both in heaven and in earth; believe that he has all wisdom, and all power, both in heaven and in earth; believe that man doth not comprehend all the things which the Lord can comprehend."

This past Sunday we had a blessed Sabbath.

In spite of the heavy grief that is still with me always, I am often surprised by the depth of joy that is also present in my life in moments of growth and connection with loved ones. It's alarming and yet beautiful to realize that the pain is the growth is the connection is the joy.

 

"the pain is

 

the growth is

 

the connection is

 

the joy"