1 in 160.

Posted on May 10, 2016 by danielleridgway

Today is the final day of this journey. It also marks five weeks since Jensen has been gone. Five long weeks since I’ve been without my beautiful boy. In those five weeks, my love has grown so much. It’s a complicated love; a mother’s love without here child physically here. Instead of nurturing him, I’ve been finding ways to nurture my grief. One day at a time, I’ll continue to survive. I’ll continue to tell Jensen and I’s story. I’ll always love him.

Instead of a prompt, we were asked to join to celebrate on the Still Mothers Facebook page. Their website provides a multitude resources for bereaved mothers that do not have living children. They provide support and guide mothers into life after miscarriage, still birth, infant and child loss. It’s just one of the many great sources I have found in the past five weeks.

I wanted to take this final day and share some of the information I have found and websites that have helped me tremendously.

Here is Day Ten…

Facts:

1 in 4 pregnancies end with a baby dying.

1 in 160 pregnancies end in stillbirth.

1 in 100 babies die from recurrent miscarriages.

1 in 4 babies die after birth.

Jensen and I are the 1 in 160 pregnancies ending in stillbirth.

He was 38 weeks and 1 day. I had an ultrasound 4 days beforehand and everything looked perfectly. Jensen was kicking and moving the 1 day beforehand. He did nothing wrong. I went to every appointment, ate what I was supposed to, took my prenatal everyday, never took any type of medicine during pregnancy, got enough sleep, drank water, didn’t lift anything, and the list goes on and on. We did everything right; it ended wrong.

I’m sure the stats for infant and child loss could go on and on. I’m unaware of those statistics. I don’t mean to scare anyone or upset anyone with those numbers. They are the truth. I didn’t know those numbers while I was pregnant, I don’t even know if that would have changed anything. I never thought this would be my life.

For the past week, you’ve followed along and know mostly where I am. You know my love for Jensen, my feelings, and how thankful I am for the support I’ve gotten. Most people see those numbers I listed above just as numbers, I see them for what they really are. I am the one and I’ve met so many other “ones.” I see them as the beautiful mothers to perfect angels.

I’d also like to share some of the websites and other sources that have helped me. It’s a nice source for bereaved mothers and everyone.

Faces of Loss is a website where women can submit their stories and support others. The stories can range from early miscarriage to infant loss. It’s a way to really connect with others and read their stories in detail. People can comment on each story, anonymously or not, to comfort and let mothers know they’re not alone. I actually submitted Jensen and I’s story and it was recently posted. If you’d like to read it you can here.
The Carly Marie Project has been a great resource for me. I’ve read through her website, watched her videos, and saw her amazing art; she is a beautiful soul. She posted a meditation video on her Facebook that I’ve watched over and over. Plus, she wrote Jensen’s name in the sand on Mother’s Day that brought me into tears.
Molly Bears is an organization that allows bereaved parents to fill their empty arms. They take the weight of a baby and make a teddy bear that weight. It allows a parent to remember what their child’s weight felt like. Their story is beautiful and they have helped so many families.
BurdenBearingBaskets although I did not receive a basket, I love the idea of helping another bereaved family through this Etsy shop. Jessica and Melissa provide a personalized basket to help a parent navigate their grief. The contents in the basket are beautiful and the shop owners are wonderful to talk with. I’d definitely recommend checking their shop.
Still Standing Magazine the sister site to Still Mothers. They also provide so many resources and support outlets. On Mother’s Day, they posted all throughout the day to reach out to bereaved mothers. It was nice just to watch videos, listen, and reach out when I was in the low of the day.
I also would recommend support groups online and in person. I have been trying to be as active as I can be in the online groups. There are local ones and national ones that will welcome you. This month I am going to my first group support in person. I’ll have to write afterwards, but they have been so supportive when I asked information about their groups through email. If you’re in Ohio, I’d love to share some of the local groups and in person groups with you.

As I look back on the ten days, I’m so thankful I found this program. I have met so many beautiful women and have been able to express my grief without any judgement. I’m so happy Jensen and I’s story has made an impact and helped other people. It means so much that his name is remembered and said by so many. He is the reason why I go on as strongly as I do. He is the reason why I’m a mother.

Although I might not be posting every single day in the near future, I plan on writing frequently. I created this blog to share Jensen and I’s story and I feel that I have so much more to share. It humbles me to see all of you read our story and be so supportive.

#ShareYourMotherHeart

Posted on May 10, 2016 by danielleridgway

I never imagined myself writing about grief; especially the grief for my son, my precious Jensen. A mother should never lose her child, but here I am writing. I carried him for ten months, I should be cleaning off spit up in my hair. I should be doing nightly feedings. My baby boy should be here with me.

Yet, I am here. I have not woken up from my nightmare and I never will.

I decided to join the Share Your Mother Heart group in efforts to focus in on my grief around Mother’s Day. Honestly, I wasn’t prepared. How could I even fathom that my son wouldn’t be here for my first Mother’s Day?

Which brings us into Day Nine of this writing journey…

Before Jensen passed, I would have never known the community I have found so much support in. I admit, I would never choose to be apart of this community. It breaks my heart knowing all these wonderful, beautiful mothers have lost their babies. We grieve so deeply for our children, we search for answers, and we question ourselves. Even though we’re all going through this tragedy, we rally and support each other.

I can’t say enough about the support I have from other bereaved mothers. Besides writing and feeling my love for Jensen all this week, I was able to share my story and hear their stories. Listening was just as therapeutic as writing. I wish I could give every single mother a hug and tell her she’s doing great. I wish I could cry with her while we spoke of our angels. Support is the main part of this project and I’m so thankful you were all there for me.

I hope you all feel more than comfortable to contact me after this ten day journey is over. I hope you feel comfortable telling me anything on your mind. I hope you want to tell me more and more about your baby. I hope when I feel like I can’t move off the couch from this grief, you are there for me. This is what communities are all about.

Lastly, thank you all for Sharing Your Mother Heart with me. Each of your stories are different, but just as important. You are heard. Your baby is remembered. You are a wonderful mother.

For my family and friends that have followed along through my journey, I thank you all for your support. Seeing your ‘likes,’ messages, and comments help me out more than you know. This Mother’s Day was so hard for me to get through and you followed me through that journey. I know you could never imagine going through this and that’s okay. I never would want you to. If you do and I don’t know your story, please feel free to share with me.

You each heard baby Jensen’s story and for that I am forever grateful.

Mother’s Day.

Posted on May 9, 2016 by danielleridgway

I’ll admit it; today was hard. I woke up with a hole in my stomach. It’s an emptiness that can never be filled. My heart hurt. I swear it was racing and barley beating at the same time. Grief was the first to welcome me to my first Mother’s Day.

For most of the day I was on the couch, my face swollen, and cheeks stained with tears. I ached for Jensen. All I wanted was to be holding him, kissing his cheeks, studying every facial expression. But there I sat with empty arms, a mother without her child on Mother’s Day. That’s the reality in this tragedy.

The day could’ve easily drowned me with grief. Thankfully I have a wonderful support system who helped pamper me to the best of their ability.

Which leads to Day Eight in this journey.

If it wasn’t for Anthony, holding me as I cried, I wouldn’t have been pampered for Mother’s Day. Instead of letting me lay in bed all day, Anthony got me out of bed and brought me cupcake pancakes from IHOP. It was absolutely delicious. Jensen had so many pancakes during his time here. He would’ve loved to try the cupcake ones.

Not only did Anthony pamper me with good food, he did what he always planned to do with Jensen: pick out perfect flowers for Mommy. I know it hurt to go get them without Jensen. Bereaved Dads ache and grieve just like moms. They had dreams and hopes for their baby too. I think Jensen would have been happy with the flowers his dad picked though. He also gave me a beautiful bracelet I designed after Jensen passed. It has his name and birthstone on it. Whenever I need strength, all I have to do is look at my wrist and see my angel is right with me.

When Anthony left to see his mom and then his grandma, I was alone. The most dreaded thing after a loss. My grief struck hard again and I found myself having a breakdown on the couch. I wept and wept, until I knew I had to get it all out. I journaled and got the worst part out. I looked at Jensen’s urn and thought, “He doesn’t want to see me cry. Jensen needs his mom to be strong.” I took a breath and was channeling his love. Thankfully I calmed down enough. I re-watched Carly Marie’s video of her writing all the angel babies’ names in the sand. I’m so blessed she chose to write Jensen’s name in the sand. I saw the loopy J and the peaceful ocean behind his name. It relaxes me knowing he will always be remembered and I have support from women around the world.

We ended the night at my parent’s house. They have been there to pick me up, wipe my tears, and listen. My mom and dad pamper me even on the days where i’m not “supposed to be pampered.” They made my favorite dinner, steak and potatoes. We talked about Jensen and how much we love him. They listened to me and I’m so thankful for that. Jensen has the best grandparents and uncle the world could give him. He’s one lucky little boy.

They also gave me my first Mother’s Day present from them. It’s a beautiful necklace of a mother holding her child. The stones on the necklace are Jensen’s birthstones. Although my arms are empty, I hold him in my heart. I know Jensen would have loved this present as well.

Now the last minutes of Mother’s Day are slipping away from us. I survived, as I keep doing each and every day. Jensen watches and guides me every second of my days. He’s the reason I get up in the morning. He’s the reason I smile. He’s the reason why I feel all this love. He’s the reason why I’m a mother. He’s my angel forever. I love you Jensen.

I want to say Happy Mother’s Day to all the mothers out there. You are so loved.

I’d also like to thank everyone who texted me throughout the day. As I said yesterday, you don’t know the impact it had on me. Knowing you were thinking about Jensen, Anthony, and I means the world.

Advice from a Bereaved Mother.

Posted on May 7, 2016 by danielleridgway

I dreamt Jensen and being his mother for months. Every night I would dream of our long future together. I was so ready to learn everything I could about him and being the perfect mom for my son. All I wanted was to embrace my motherhood and look at Jensen with joy every second I could.

Even though my sweet baby boy isn’t with my physically, I feel him with me everyday. I had to change my motherhood due to our tragedy. This past week seven days, I’ve made similarities and differences between what I dreamt and now; the before and after. I don’t claim to know everything, especially about being a mom. Although I’d like to give advice or reminders about being a mom to others.

Which leads us to Day Seven’s prompt…

For Mothers with living children or are pregnant:

Don’t wish time away.
Always tell your child/ren you love them.
Live and cherish every moment like it could be the last.
When your child/ren does something that upset you, remember how lucky you are that you have them and that they’re safe.
Hug them an extra second longer.
Be a proud of the babies you have. They are perfect in every single way.
Be proud of yourself. You are a beautiful mother.

For Bereaved Mothers:

Your child/ren loves you more than words can describe.
You are not at fault.
Honor and remember your babies as much as you can.
It’s okay to have a good day. You deserve it.
Reach out for support, there’s others that want to support you.
Be proud of the babies you have. They are perfect in every single way.
Be proud of yourself. You are a beautiful mother.

To all types of moms, remember to wish each other a Happy Mother’s Day. All mothers need to be recognized, three small words could change one’s day around.

I wish every mother a Happy Mother’s Day. If you’re lucky enough to enjoy your day with your baby, soak up every single second. If your angel is in heaven, protect your heart. Do what you feel is okay for the day. Your baby is with you. They want you to know how much you’re loved.

For me, I’ll be spending time with my loved ones; thinking and talking all about my Jensen Grey.

What words of kindness would you provide?

Nurse’s Day.

Posted on May 6, 2016 by danielleridgway

When I read today’s prompt I knew I had to alter what I was going to write. Although I would love to share more about my pregnancy I wanted to focus a little more on a certain side of Jensen’s birth story. Although I won’t go into detail about everything, I want to express my thanks to our nurse, Angie.

Day Six falls on Nurse’s Day and I’d like to share Angie’s role in Jensen’s story…

The day we went into our OB appointed started off like any other. We went into the doctors and the ultrasound tech checked my belly to look at Jensen. There was silence.

The second we found out Jensen didn’t have a heartbeat I fell into a deep pit of shock and confusion. I just heard the worst news in my life and I didn’t know or I couldn’t think what came next. They rushed us off to the hospital for more ultrasounds to just make sure. There was more silence from the ultrasounds. I thought that was the worst silence and the whole entire world. I was supposed to hear his little heart beating away.

When the decision was made to deliver Jensen and be induced right away, I was quickly introduced to our nurse, Angie. I remember having to walk away from my family and Anthony, to get away for a second. Angie was right there. She told me she was frankly honest, but she would be there for me when I needed her. In the blur of the events, she was able to get the hardest information out of me. Words I had never imagined saying in my whole lifetime came out of my mouth. She had to draw thoughts out of me I never, ever wanted to think about. The whole time I was never mad at her or felt like she was being pushy. She let me take my time in answering questions.

During my pregnancy, I didn’t want any pain medication or and epidural. The thought it could potentially hurt Jensen did not sit well with me. I know I could take the pain just to have him here safe. After it was confirmed Jensen was in heaven, I didn’t want to feel any pain. I was already in unimaginable pain and suffering. I told Angie, I didn’t want to feel physical pain. She let me know that was okay and I didn’t have to. They warned me labor would long; like twenty hours or longer. Angie said, “As soon as you feel pain let me know. You need rest now, so try to sleep.”

My twenty hour labor only lasted six hours after they first induced me. Jensen came quickly and didn’t hurt his mommy. Not as much as I thought I would be in physical pain anyways. I remember at one point, I was feeling intense contractions. Lasting for thirty seconds and coming every minute. In my head, this couldn’t be the worst. I still had hours left of labor. Angie came in and checked on me during this and I told her what was happening. She was so frustrated because I didn’t tell her I was in pain. They were able to get one test epidural in me. Jensen came quick and peacefully.

If you’d asked me only a few hours before what the worst sound was, I would have said the silence from the ultrasounds. If you ask me now, I’d tell you the silence when Jensen was born. Every mom waits to hear that cry. That first scream of their child. When your child is stillborn, you only hear silence.

As I was getting cleaned up, Angie had Jensen. She held him like any other baby. Said how adorable and handsome he was. Angie kissed Jensen, sung to him, and rocked him. She was the one who took pictures of him for us to have forever. She got all of his footprints and handprints. She excitedly told me his weight and length.

If she saw I was getting too upset she’d come and comfort me. She was amazing. While I was pushing she cheered me on. Kept telling me I was doing perfectly. When I told her I needed to move a certain way, she was right there helping me. In my darkest time she was a ray of light.

When the shift changed, she came in the room and gave me a hug. She told me again how beautiful Jensen was. Asked if I needed anything at all. The only thing I could do was tell her thank you. She witnessed me at my absolute worse. My whole world was completely shattered and she was there to help with such kindness and grace. I can never thank her enough. While I was pregnant, I always wanted to make a nurse’s basket. I always hoped to get great nurses to help with Jensen and I. I wish I could have met Angie in another way. One where she saw Jensen dancing in my belly. I know Jensen would have loved her.

Although I would never have predicted this tragedy to happen to me, I cannot say enough good things about the nurses who helped Jensen and I.

Sweet Love.

Posted on May 5, 2016 by danielleridgway

At this time one month ago, I was leaving the hospital without a baby. I’d only given birth to Jensen 15 hours beforehand. The nurse wheeled me out the back way of the maternity wing. I hate to think of how many other mothers had to go down this hallway without their baby. I can just remember all the tears flooding my eyes. I was supposed to leave the hospital with my son. My whole body and insides ached. Not from physically giving birth, but knowing I was leaving a huge part of myself behind.

Besides not leaving the hospital with Jensen was the looks the happy family in the waiting room gave me. They obviously saw my tears. They were obviously about to get the best news, a new, healthy baby. Then they saw me. Their looks haunt me still…

I was the reality of what could go wrong.

Today not only marks one month since Jensen has been gone, but I’m halfway through my Share Your Mother Heart prompts.

I’ve never questioned what motherhood was, even from an early age. My mom has poured love into my brother and I’s lives. Every time we leave the room we say we love each other. She would do anything for me, all because she loves me. I’m made of her and I’ll always be apart of her no matter how far I go. Even on the horrible day she gets to see Jensen again in heaven, I’ll always have her love.

When I got pregnant with Jensen, I was in love. When I found out he was a boy, I was still in love. As he grew everyday in my belly, I was still in love. When I found out the angels came and got him, I was still in love. When I delivered him in the silent hospital room, I was still in love. When I was wheeled through the back way of the maternity ward, I was still in love. When I went to my son’s funeral, I was still in love. Last night when I was terrified to go to sleep because I didn’t want him to be gone for one month, I was still in love. As I find the words to write, I’m still in love.

The common theme of all different types of motherhood is love. No, I’m not able to parent Jensen the way I dreamed. Believe me, I would do anything to have him here. It still does not discount the fact that I love him till my last breath. Each day of this writing journey, I’ve wrote about my endless love for Jensen. Even though I have faced this horrible tragedy and I grieve so deeply everyday, I would not feel this way if love was not there. Instead of being angry, depressed, and feeling hopeless every second of the day, I choose to feel the lasting love I have for Jensen and my motherhood.

All About Jensen.

Posted on May 4, 2016 by danielleridgway

The one person I could talk about for the rest of my life is my little man. I have so many memories from being pregnant with Jensen. In the 38 weeks he was in my womb, I have a clear picture of all the trouble my little boy would be causing. Good trouble, of course.

This week has been unexplainably hard. Tomorrow is the one month mark. One month since Baby Jensen went to heaven. I’ve been very emotional and in pain. Thankfully today’s prompt is my favorite yet; to brag all about my Jensen.

Day Four’s prompt…

What was he/she like?
What were your dreams for him/her/them?
Who were they/who do you believe they would have been?

Jensen Grey had a multitude of moods, emotions, likes and dislikes. He would let his momma know his feelings right away on everything. Most of the time he was lazy and was stuck on my right side, with his butt on the top of my belly so I could pat him. When he would hear music, I could feel him dancing. It didn’t matter if it was his mommy singing, the radio, or when we went to church. He loved to be read to and when his daddy kissed my belly. Jensen was such a happy little guy.

He could also be pretty stubborn. He got that from both Anthony and I. For the Aultman ultrasound girls he would pose, move, and practice what he needed when they asked. I remember one time the girl said, “I got his profile, but it would be really nice if he would turn so we could see the front of his face.” Not two seconds after she said it, there he turned. When we would lay down in bed, he HATED when I laid on my right side. He would twist and turn uncomfortably until I flipped to my left side. He usually got what he wanted.

Some foods he loved and others he hated. The second trimester he wouldn’t let me eat before 10am. He hated eggs at first, Arby’s the whole time, and pepper soup that his grandma made. I usually just trusted my cravings as what he wanted. He would kick away for chocolate milk, cereal, Nutella, and Burger King. I swear I would’ve had to keep him away from junk food. On the other hand, he really liked salads and green apples. He would just kick and kick when it was time to eat.

There’s so much more about his personality. He was truly the best. He was also the cutest.

Even though for 38 weeks I mostly saw this from him…

I dreamed and dreamed of what Jensen would look like. I pictured dark hair, big lips, and a big nose for some reason. I thought he would be a BIG baby. He weighed ahead when we got our measurements. In actuality, he had blond hair and mostly looked like his mom. His hair was curly like his daddy’s. He had a little button nose, pretty big lips, his mom’s forehead and chin. Absolutely beautiful. He had his mom’s feet and toes. His hands were big, but chubby. He weighed 7 pounds and 1 ounce and was 19 3/4 inches long. I’m sure his eyes were brown just like Anthony and I’s. I feel like since he looked so much like me, he probably would’ve acted like Anthony. No matter what, he was perfect.

He would have been stylish. Momma bought him a whole wardrobe, probably way too much stuff for one little boy. He would have been so kissable. I’m sure his hair would’ve got darker as he got older. I know his face would be changing by now and I would have loved to see if he would’ve stayed looking like me or just morphed into his own little self. I would’ve loved a mini-me.

Most of all I think Jensen would have been a little lover. I say that because when I would talk to him, he would cozy up and not kick while I talked. After I was done he would kick wanted me to talk to him more and rub my belly. He loved when his kitty Poe and puppies Finnick and Sarge were laying beside him. When his grandma and grandpa were talking, he would listen and not kick until they were done. He always kicked when he heard his Uncle Logan. He loved when kids were around me; kicking as they yelled and played. My Jensen is the best little love.

Jensen is and always will be my perfect baby boy.

Being Seen.

Posted on May 3, 2016 by danielleridgway

I never knew four weeks could feel like forty years at one second, then only seem like one day a second later. It’s been twenty-eight days since Jensen has been gone. Some mornings I wonder if I woke up from the nightmare and other mornings it’s like getting slapped in the face. Today was a slap in the face; just as physical slaps in the face, it stings afterwards.

Today was overwhelming for me. I’m grief stricken and felt anger, sadness, helplessness, guilty, and vulnerability. All those in one day are hard to handle. Yet, I’m still here. I feel Jensen near my heart and see his little ultrasound pictures smiling at me. Reminding me he’s here watching over his momma, now and always.

He will always see me as a mother, which leads to Day Three.

In what ways have others seen and acknowledged your motherhood?
How do you see yourself as a mother?
In what ways is your motherhood visible?

Most of the time (like 99%) I see myself as a mother. I know I’ll always be Jensen’s mom. He was made of me, I delivered him, and love him. Since he’s not here physically, I can’t be the traditional mom I wanted to be. I see myself as mother now by saying Jensen’s name, writing about him, and sharing our experience. There’s still a bond between us even though Jensen is in heaven, a mother’s love is unbreakable. Not only emotionally do I feel like a mother, but physically. I see the stretch marks, my face changing, and my body still feels like I should be nurturing a newborn. Today, it hurts as I’m typing this. My body tells me I should have my baby here and my brain knows he’s not here physically to be nurtured. Today is hard to be seen as a mother.

I feel like all moms have times where they think they’re not doing their best. Worries that their baby isn’t sleeping enough, growing as big as they should be, or not hitting all their milestones. Moms worry about their babies. I worry about him being in heaven. I worry he sees my guilt. I worry that he feels my sadness. I worry I can’t show him I love him enough. So I guess in that way I see myself as a mother.

To others, I think it is hard for them to see a mom without a living child as moms; not that they discredit me and others as mothers. If I go out to lunch or dinner for Mother’s Day on Sunday, will someone tell me “Happy Mother’s Day” with a big smile? I get support from my friends and family, they speak Jensen’s name and listen to my worries. Comments on my blog let people say how much love I have for Jensen and how proud he is of me. That makes me smile and feel like I’m doing a good job in this journey of motherhood.

Then I question myself…
Does Anthony see himself as a father? Do my parents see themselves as grandparents? Does my brother see himself as an uncle? Am I really seen as a mother?

That’s how bad my grief makes me question myself and others.

Then I question… Does Jensen see me as his mother?

That answer is yes.
I see Anthony as a father. I see my parents as grandparents. I see my brother as an uncle. I see myself as a mother.

My motherhood is visible to others because I let it be. For other people, I won’t let them question if I am or not. I share my love for Jensen and I’ll tell anyone his story. For ten months I carried him, cared for him, and made sure he was one happy little boy.

The pure existence of my son makes me a mother. Everyday I’m proud of that.

Motherhood Reimagined.

Posted on May 2, 2016 by danielleridgway

When I found out Jensen was a boy, I was overjoyed. I imagined him playing football, getting dirty, and playing rough outside. At my house, I planned on getting a big window in the back door so I could look outback to watch him play in the mud. I pictured us sitting outside together looking at the stars. When he was older, running in and out of the back door and eventually sneaking in and out. Those are just some of the dreams I had for him, with just the backyard. I would be his number one cheerleader, nurse, and above all his mother.

With all my dreams for him, I imagined me being the best momma for him. Whatever he needed me to be, I would. Of course, he would be made to listen and respect his parents and everyone else. Imagining his journey through infancy to adulthood, I also imagined myself as a mother growing with his needs. When I lost Jensen, I lost all my dreams for him and the biggest part of myself. I lost him, made of me, and I lost a certain identity I had for myself for the past ten months.

Which brings me to Day Two of this ten-day journey…

In what ways are you still the mother you thought you’d be?
In what ways does she still live on?

Today marks 27 days since Jensen was born and 27 days since he’s been gone. I never imagined losing him or imagined this is the journey my motherhood with lead me to. Four weeks with a baby means sleepless nights, countless diapers, and endless love. Motherhood with a newborn baby is messy. I imagined myself with the messiness right now and knowing the messiness would lead to a dramatic toddler and then a curious child and then a know-it-all teenager to adulthood. Instead, motherhood after a baby born asleep includes sleepless nights, countless tissues, and endless love; some the same, mostly different. My sleepless nights include countless tissues. I’m up wondering why, crying, and just remembering my Jensen. Some nights are harder than others and I know there will be good nights and horrible nights in my future. I’ve went through so many boxes of tissues. There are times when there are constant flows of tears and there’s other where I have to share tissues with those around me when I’m talking about Jensen. But there is never a lack of love I have for him. It is an endless love as I know all mothers have for their child. It’s the love my mother had for me growing up till now.

As I ponder on today’s questions I have to remember what I imagined before the unthinkable and compare them with my thoughts now. The reoccurring theme in both is love.

When I wake up each morning and am talking to Jensen, I could easily just stay in bed each day. I don’t. I think and often say out loud, Jensen wouldn’t me like this. He wouldn’t want me to give up on all my dreams and hopes. He wouldn’t want me to be laying in bed all day. He wants me to have that big, windowed backdoor. He wants me to grow as a mother for him. He doesn’t need me to care for him as a mom would care for a newborn. He still needs the love, but he needs to see me growing. All of these dreams, all of this grief, all of Jensen was made from love. Him and it is my motivation to get out of bed every morning. To go get that big, windowed back door. To grow and explore in this new type of motherhood. Most importantly, to keep loving him and letting everyone know how loved my Jensen is.

It’s our love for each other that makes me the mother I’d always had imagined myself being.