soul meets body / there will be a day

soul meets body
Saturday at 12:56am

I want to live where soul meets body
And let the sun wrap its arms around me
And bathe my skin in water cool and cleansing
And feel... feel what it's like to be new.




ive liked this song for a long time now.. i came across a mother who at once in her life, was pregnant, and scheduled to go to a concert.. the band, called "Deathcab for Cutie"... (holy CRAP.. is THAT accurate). she missed the concert because that day, her baby died. she said "soul meets body" takes on a whole new meaning for her.

I left that lyric as my Status and got a note from someone special within minutes.. she found it as positive and uplifting. i see it as both upliftng and frustrating. i want to live where soul meets body.. where my baby's soul and being actually gets to meet her body on the outside world. or where my body gets to meet her soul someday.

and let the sun wrap its arms around me... my support, you are my sun, you have wrapped your arms around john and me in our grief. i am struggling to find the strength to feel the sunshine on me. today, i did not go outside. my mom suggested i take vitamin D.. since most days, i dont see the sun.

to feel what it's like to be new. i dont think i'll ever feel new again. i didnt get to feel my new baby, not her warmth against my skin. i am medically trained to assess infants.. their breathing, their heartbeat, and if i come cross an infant who's chest isnt rising and falling, i'd spring into action and scream for help. i looked at my daughters chest as it was still and not moving, not rising and falling, and thought of this medical training and certainly wanted to scream for help, but it was too late. i felt her fontanel... open and flat as a newborn's should be. i looked at and touched her whole body.. perfectly formed and breathtakingly beautiful. but she was already with Jesus. "im so sorry" i kept telling her, "im so sorry my baby."

but there is hope.. hope that someday i'll feel a new baby and maybe feel new again. right now, i dont feel it's within reach. having another baby feels eternities away. it's only been 4 weeks since this happened. ("this", i say so often. "this". "this" meaning "the death of my baby"... the love of my life... she is dead. it's easier to say "this", than all that.) a very long 4 weeks. 4 weeks is short when the mere possibility of having a living baby in my arms and in kathlyn's crib is over a year away, and could very easily be longer away than that. in her crib. in her nursery. her bassinet. her diapers. her blankets. her clothes. her swing. her bouncy seat. her carseat. her strollers. her changing table. in her family, in our hearts, without her.

pop up on the lower right corner of my screen. A friend Likes My Status.

the friend who wrote the message in response to the status said how she knows i have a thousand thoughts a minute running through my head. i definitely do. there are uplifiting and positive moments, moments i can cope and try to move forward in my life. and there are darker moments, of course, where i can't even imagine breathing for another minute without my daughter.. breathing alone is just so hard, let alone fathoming the ability to feel joy at any level ever again.

but there is hope. somewhere hiding, it's there. today i spent many hours reading one mother's journey. her 2nd child was stillborn, a daughter. she recently gave birth to a son, and she said he stole their hearts and reminded them what it's like to feel joy again. i spent many hours reading about her family, and her ups and downs. even when she cradles and rocks her new little boy, at times she does it while crying for the daughter she lost. and she admits it's hard to read about other mothers, but she said "like when passing a train wreck, it's hard not to look." reading about these other train wrecks is heart wrenching and therapeutic at once.

i want to live where soul meets body, to feel what it's like to be new, to be reminded again there can be joy in life.

my Katie.. my Kathlyn Joy.. always in my life.. she's still my baby.


there will be a day
Sunday at 3:36am
i heard this song in the car on the way home from another nice night out with my rock group. i told a few of them that im still doing a lot of crying and that im still so, so afraid. this song was something i needed to hear.

there will be a day, with no more tears, no more pain, no more fears.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6ijXwHoKeAY

it just can't be this hard forever.

miss you kathlyn, love you from the bottom of my broken heart, wish you were here.. you're still my baby.