Dear Ari

There are not many times that I get to sit and reminisce about the times I had with my daughter for the eight short weeks of her life. Sure there's the morning car ride, maybe once or twice during the day a flash of her face will come into my memory, and then there's always the daunting ride home. I still remember a few days after returning to work that car ride home. To say the least, it was dangerous. Probably outright wrong for me to drive in the condition that I was in. The tears never stopped. They never stopped pouring. The cries out to God and asking (or more like screaming) why me? Why our family? Why didn't I even get to say goodbye? Why didn't you stop this from happening if you are the God almighty? For weeks I would cry on my way home only to wipe my tears away before I had step out of my car, and walk into my house where my husband and two other children sat waiting for me. 

Three years later, the tears certainly don't flow as often, but the remnants of her never go away. And for that reason, I felt I needed to say some things. To you, and to my sweet angel because they are thoughts that rumble in my head that no one ever gets to hear but me...and I feel it's time for people to hear.

After Ari passed away, our family faced so many other trials. Things most people probably wouldn't even believe or know about. It seemed as though they would never end and we would constantly be facing grief or trials of some sort. Luckily, things started to calm down a little bit and I began to meet other moms who had angel babies. I heard their stories. I read about their children. I felt for them. My heart broke with them as they had to say goodbye. A small part of me though, felt jealous (and still sometimes do). The jealousy that other parents got to say goodbye to their children would set in. That they got to hold their child one last time, even though it may not have been the ideal "holding" of their child. They got to HOLD their child. I didn't. I was jealous they had more time with their child. I was jealous they had better resources after losing a child. I felt so many other emotions towards other moms. As jealous as it has made me at times, I have slowly begun to realize that God is holding me. He's squeezing me tight. And as much as it sucks I didn't get to hold my baby, that is no reason to be angry or jealous towards another mom or dad who is suffering just as much as I am. At all. We are all in the same boat, with different stories of how we got there. 

After Ari passed though, I was terrified. It wasn't the fact that I woke up next to my dead child that terrified me. Touching her cold body wasn't terrifying. Seeing the blood that had settled at the back of her neck was not terrifying. It wasn't the police, or the funeral, or the thoughts of what other people might think, or any of those things that truly terrified me. I was terrified about what this would do to our family, to my friendships, and to myself. I was terrified about losing a very close relationship I had built with God because I would be angry and so mad that I just couldn't turn back to him ever again, which I had already gone through when my dad has passed away when I was 11. Fortunately, I was deep in my journey with God to know enough that without him, we wouldn't get through this. And just as fortunate, our church community wrapped their arms around us and just gave us love. I will never forget that. I will never forget how much grace we were given in that time. 

Ari left us from this earth, but God never did. He still hasn't. I've seen miracles worked in our lives through the trials that we have had to endure. Through the things we have had to experience God has never left our side. Because of that, I am still here to tell my story and show that you can endure anything...ANYTHING...when God is with you. 

“Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything.” (James 1:2–4)

“Therefore put on the full armor of God, so that when the day of evil comes, you may be able to stand your ground, and after you have done everything, to stand.” (Ephesians 6:13)

“I have told you these things, so that in me you may have peace. In this world you will have trouble. But take heart! I have overcome the world.” (John 16:33)

“For Christ died for sins once for all, the righteous for the unrighteous, to bring you to God. He was put to death in the body but made alive by the Spirit” (1 Peter 3:18)

" I can do all things through Christ which strengthens me." (Philippians 4:13)

There is verse after verse in the Bible where we are given strength and reminded of the power of love from Jesus Christ. If not for this, I truly do not know where our family would be today. Especially after all the guilt and jealousy I have endured throughout the years. 

If anyone asks where I gain my strength, it is from God alone. 


And now, a letter to my precious girl...
To my dear my sweet angel, Ariella Grace,

1094 days. It has been 1094 days since I kissed you goodbye. Since I last saw your face. Since I last felt your touch. That cold, haunting touch. 

It's hard to believe so much has passed since you gained your wings.

I think of you every day. It's hard not to when you are constantly tugging on my heart, and when your ashes hang around my neck. It's hard not to think of you when someone asks "how many children do you have" and I don't know what to say. And it's definitely not hard to think of you every day when I wake up and know you are a physical missing piece of my every day life. 

The best photo I ever got of your curls.

I remember your hair color...the exact color. It isn't just brown. It was brown with little hints of blonde and red mixed in and when the sunlight hit it just right, it shined perfectly with your skin. Your hair had the best little curls. They were so tiny. I was so excited to see you grow up and see what your hair would look like.  

And your smell. I will never forget your smell. I remember after you left us, I looked for everything in the house that you touched to try and capture your smell, but I never could. It wasn't a typical baby smell. It was YOUR smell and there is nothing like it on this earth. 

I so vividly remember your eyes. I would look at you and it was like staring into the depths of an ocean, or the vastness of the stars, or trying to stare across Lake Superior and see what's on the other side. They were big, beautiful, and never-ending. 

I remember when you arrived in this world. From my water breaking, to getting to the hospital, to the moment you were born and I finally, FINALLY got to hold you in my arms. And those few days in the hospital with you and all of the friends and family that came to visit you and see how beautiful you were in person, because pictures could never do you justice.

I remember nursing you. How tight you would hold onto me. How you would fall asleep and yet still hold on so tight. I remember the ease in which you nursed. We never had problems. Just bonding. It was beautiful. 

I remember the day it snowed. Your first snowfall. We were at home, just you and I. We were enjoying some music and dancing in the living room together. As I looked outside, I saw snow coming down and just had to show you. I took a photo to forever encapsulate that moment. To many, this photo would mean nothing, but to me, this photo is a vivid memory of spending precious moments with you.

I remember putting you to be that last night. Three years ago, TODAY. How calm you were. It was unusual. At the time I thought nothing of it. There wasn't a single night that you weren't sleeping on top of me. It's the only way I could get you to sleep for extended periods. And I loved your snuggles. That night though, was different. You were swaddled and I laid you in your bassinet. For the first time since being home, you didn't cry after being put into it. Again, thought nothing of it. Then daddy wanted to snuggle you, so he brought you to bed, as we did every single night before then, and gave you kisses goodnight as you went off to dreamland. I remember waking up and checking on you. I was nervous about having to go back to work. I was nervous about leaving you. I was nervous about having to think about you all day and not hold you. I was nervous about having to pump at work. So many thoughts ran through my head all night while I constantly checked on you. Then at some point, I drifted into a real sleep.

And then I remember the morning I woke up to you being gone. I remember staring down at your soft hair on your beautiful little head. Looking at you in complete awe. I stared at you for a few minutes. I remember saying "you are such an angel" out loud to you. Shortly after, I slowly started to realize you had truly become an angel. In the most horrific moment of my life, I realized you had become the most beautiful angel. With the most sparkly and beautiful wings any angel could ever have.

From that moment, our house erupted. Sirens, friends, family, police, ambulance, neighbors, tears, screams, horror. Everything seemed to move so fast. And then you were gone from our home. My last kiss to you I will never forget. As scary as that last time I saw you was, I will never forget it. No matter how much it hurts.

Your eyes, your hair, your birthday, your angelversary, your nicknames, your smile. These are all things that anyone could remember about you. These are tiny, minuscule parts of what I remember of you. I spent almost every single second of your life with you. I know my day will come to see you again. I day dream about the day we meet again. I know you see every tear and feel every second that I miss you. One day, my sweet girl, all those tears will be gone and we can reunite.  

I love you my sweet, precious, beautiful Angel Ariella. Until we meet again....