Mothers of the Month- December edition.
On the 1st of each month I usually open up nominations for our Mother of the Month, well this month is different. This month I have 2 very special women that I have chosen to be Our December edition ~Mothers of the Month~. Over the next 2 weeks there will be 2 blog posts about these special women. They will share an intimate post about their daughters that both grew their wings too soon. Christmas is a time for families coming together but unfortunately for some there is one less person at the dinner table. The strength that these women have within is something I truly admire and look up to, I am lucky enough to call one my sister and the other a very dear friend. Please make these women feel welcome, loved, and supported. This is in no way easy and has taken a lot of courage to speak openly but they have also been very willing as We want to make awareness that if you have a baby that has grown their angel wings too soon then you are not alone, your babies are loved, important and will never be forgotten until the day you meet again.
Our first Mother is my dear friend Mel.
When I was asked to be a mummy of the month I felt to honoured, each month I would read all the nominations and think there are so many incredible mothers out there that I do not envy Bronwyn’s job of having to only pick one, I would never have thought she would choose me.
Bronwyn was my support person for my second daughters birth and the only person close to me who got to hear my little girls first and last cry. I will never be able to thank her enough for what she did for me that day and the months that followed.
On the 19th of February 2015 at 8:51pm Evelyn Rose Ryan was born via a cat 1 caesarean, weighing a tiny 2005grams, 42cm tall and a head full of perfect brown baby fuzz. My husband Shane was at home with a bug and wasn’t allowed to be present for her birth as a scan early that day showed she was only 2kg and her health could not be compromised. Once she was born Shane came to the hospital and Bron left. Our little girl gave us four short hours with her, she was struggling but she squeezed our fingers and looked at us the whole time. She coded and we were told there was nothing else they could do, the machines were all that were keeping her breathing. She was then placed on my chest as I admired everything about her I wanted to remember every detail, her smell, her fingers, her nose she looked so much like her older sister but with hair. I never thought I could love someone as much as I did in that moment and I wanted to feel the weight of her on my chest for forever. Her first cuddle was her last one, she took her last breath on me as Shane and I kissed her a hundred times trying to be strong for each other. When I look back I feel lucky that I was able to have that moment with her, a lot of parents don’t get to. Although It was the worst moment of my life, It is one of my favourite memories of her.
Loosing Evelyn was not expected, we had no idea she was sick and it wasn’t for months after until we got the letter stating she had TAPVR a fatal heart condition. When telling her story to people for the first time it is like hitting repeat on an old tape. I can tell it without emotion almost like the story isn’t mine, which is funny as I cry as anyone’s story like this. I do it this way because If I was to let the emotion in I would never be able to tell her story and honestly its the only one I have to tell and I like talking about her.
Her birth was traumatic, her life was too short and her death was silent and life without her will forever have me feeling like something is missing. She has a 6 month old little brother now, who her older sister who is 4 absolutely adores. Its hard watching them sometimes though as I get caught dreaming of the three of them together and making up memories that never happened. I feel guilty loving him so much, which honestly to start with I struggled with. I felt somehow loving him meant she didn’t mean as much to me or that I was forgetting her. Things I know are not even possible.
Evelyn would be almost 2 this Christmas and as time passes her name is spoken less, we cry about her less and me day dreaming of what should have been is less. What is not less is the raw heartbreaking pain I feel when I do think about her, I pull out the clothes I knew she was never going to wear and I cry for her. I read what little things I do have that have her name on it and I sob. I listen to the song played at her funeral while looking at her photos to take me back to that night as tears stream down my face. It may seem like I am torturing myself by doing these things but it is what I do to remember her and in some weird way it helps.
Evelyn is one of my great loves and anyone who has lost a great love knows it is not something you ever get over, you only get used to. Your friends and families lives go back to normal while you learn what your new normal is. When I hear of someone going through the loss of a great love my heart breaks for them as until you have lived it, you don’t know and you cannot possibly get it (which is a good thing, It means you haven’t experienced it). Unfortunately I know too many people who have lost great loves to soon and even as someone who has experienced it I still have no words for them, as there simply is not any. As Christmas approaches I think of these families daily and hope their pain is matched with something magical. This year my magic will be found in watching my son’s first Christmas, spending the summer with my 4 year old, and celebrating the constant love and support I have from my husband.
I want to personally thank Mel, Thank you for sharing yours and Evelyn's story. Thank you for allowing me to be apart of Evelyn's life and Thank you for being not only an inspiration of strength and love but an amazing friend.