Memories... Like Mom Made!

Memories... Like Mom Made!
Out of dark moments, flowers grow.

Sunday, February 20, 2011


Coping: the process of managing stressful circumstances.

Managing stressful circumstances. Exerting control over. Handling.


I never thought so much about those words.

What they really mean.

What they don't mean.

They don't mean "I'm okay".

I am just "managing" the awful circumstances I am subjected to.

Not quite exerting control over, maybe handling, but definitely not ignoring.

I am not sure what I thought would happen in the weeks after Leila's death. I think, to be quite honest, I couldn't think much of anything. At least, not about the finality of her death. I truly believe there was a part of me that thought it wasn't over. Like I am still waiting for the doctors from the hospital to call with the nightly update and tell me that her blood pressure has stabilized, that her heart rate is strengthening, that she is thriving.

And then I look up from my bed, and I see this little wooden box, and my whole world caves in again.

It is a very simple little box. Nothing too intimidating. Nothing fancy or flashy.

She might have been our little diva, but none of the carved stone or flashy marble urns seemed right for her. Instead we chose this simple, shiny, light oak box. No engraving, no markers. Just... Leila.

Maybe secretly inside I chose it this way to try and hide myself from the fact that she is gone. Maybe it was just the time crunch that made me avoid any added time or expenses on the urn order. I honestly can't say. All I know is that this little box holds my heart, a piece of my soul.

A tiny, precious, 1 pound 4 ounce piece of my soul.

At least, that is what she weighed the day we welcomed her in to the world.

At 4:23pm my little girl would have been 5 weeks old. I don't even know what to say next. I don't know if her eyes would have opened by now. I don't know if she would have finally filled out and gotten her "cheeks"... face and butt cheeks, as my husband joked.

I don't know anything.

There are moments when I start to move forward: I am laughing, talking easily, smiling, enjoying myself...

Then all of a sudden this feeling comes over me like I am driving alone on a winding road in the middle of the night, and suddenly I come up on a bridge only to find that it has come completely crashing down, and I slam on the breaks and go skidding over the edge.

I can almost feel myself hit the icy water and gasp for air, but the frigid air only makes it harder to breathe, and I feel my lungs become like anchors, dragging me under. I feel like I am drowning in my sorrow.

Then as I look up, I see my son. And I fight like hell to make it back to the surface. I force myself to push through the pain and...

manage my difficult circumstance.

That's what I do.

I handle it. I manage to get through it. To the next minute, the next hour, the next day.

I am not sure if I am "coping" with my pain, my grief, my "difficult circumstance", but somehow, I am finding a way to manage it. And I am pretty sure my beautiful son is 100% to credit for that.


  1. Hello Virginia, I saw your comment on another blog about your little girl Leila passing and I just wanted to send a huge hug your way.
    My son died in June 2009 and I was so devastated that I didn't see myself getting out of it all. Thank God for pulling me through.

    Your son is a beautiful little boy, a true blessing. I just wanted to let you know that someone out there is cheering you on as you go through the ups and downs.


  2. Thank you so much. It means a lot to me to know that there are people out there. My heart aches every day, and I can't imagine it getting better, but as sad as it is that anyone should go through this, it is comforting to know that other mothers have found a way to cope and make it through. I am sorry for your loss as well: we know a pain that so many don't understand, and my heart aches for you as well.

    Thank you

  3. You are truly an amazing women. You have suffered a great loss and shared your emotions with so many people. What A gift for humanity. I wish we, as a world could embrace our pain and emotion, as you have shared. I was looking up a spinach hummus recipe and stumbled on your wonderful site, Thank you.

  4. I am glad you found my site. Did you try the spinach hummus? It is wonderfully addictive. Thank you for reading about our daughter. It is important to us to share her story with as many people as we can.

    Thank you