Lillian August & the Flowers

The day I was released from the hospital after I had Lily, my husband and I began to walk outside. Spring had lifted our heads up and welcomed us with open arms... or was it you?

I am here to be open and honest with you, especially if you are here as a bereaved parent.

Grief is something like a tidal wave. I can go days being calm and steady until the memories come in with a crash, leaving me desperate for some air. It has only been a fresh three months since Lillian crossed over. The wounds on my heart remind me that this is all still very new, and trying to navigate how I feel is different each day.

There are some days when I am more accepting than others. There are some days when I am angry, upset, and closed off. But I know there is one thing for certain that has kept me afloat these past painful months - seeing her all around me.

Spring was in full bloom, more vivid than I had ever remembered. The crabapple trees, with their pretty white, soft blooms, and the bright rhododendrons were showing off their brilliant pops of pink. I felt like she was quietly and lovingly whispering to me, "It's okay, Mom. Enjoy the beauty I am showing you and know that I am here." I felt like Lillian was getting our attention when we got home that afternoon to see our peach trees had finally blossomed after five years of doing nothing—not even one flower or bloom until the afternoon of March 29th.

Our home after Lillian passed was filled with fresh flowers. I was saving everything and putting them on my kitchen counters and dining room tables until I couldn't anymore. There was an arrangement sitting on our coffee table in our living room that was filled with beautiful lilies. There was a giant bud that did not bloom until the morning of Lillian's funeral—it came alive and stayed alive for a long time after! These were special to me because the color of these flowers was the same color as the outfit we put her in when she was born. Mauves and pinks hold a special place in my heart right now and always will.

I know everyone is different when it comes to dealing with grief, and I'm trying to wrap this up because I feel like I am rambling. You should be able to do that however you want to. I think people expect you to "move on and get over it because it's been an x amount of days, years, etc." and that is not true. Be happy, joyful, mad, or at peace. There is no right or wrong way in this confusing process. It has been something I have had to remind myself of and be reminded by my family and therapist. I lost my baby and that will never be okay to my husband and I and it is okay to be sad whenever you are sad. Pray or connect with your loved ones however you need to. Just know that you are loved and supported and that you are constantly being guided and looked after, even though it can be painful that they are not physically here to hold and talk to. I have been told by many people, "Wow, you are so strong! I couldn't handle it if I were you." I politely say thank you, but how else am I supposed to be? I have to be strong most days. I still have two daughters - yes, Lillian is still here with me. She is the one that gives me the strength to pull myself up most days and continue on with her leading me. I am still a mom to a busy almost three-year-old that keeps me occupied, but I am also a mom who is not always strong in this process. It is OK to have days not to be OK. Be OK to show off your emotions to others. I am realizing I don't always have to have my sh** together when it comes to my grieving.

I am ready to take on this new journey in my life and to have my family be apart of it. I am thankful and fortunate I am able to do this. I want other grieving parents to know that I am here too, listening and always will. Thank you for following me along in this journey.