the past 365 days

1 year.
365 days.
8,760 hours.
525,600 minutes.
3,536,000 seconds.
1 year ago today, we were in a hospital room, receiving the news that our baby didn't make it.
I don't think I went a single one of those moments without thinking of her.

"Memorial for Unborn Children"- Martin Hudáček

Grief is a funny thing. Sometimes it sits with my for days on end and I can't shake it. Sometimes it's triggered by a word or picture. Sometimes it comes out of no where. Sometimes I feel happy for weeks. Sometimes I can't get out of bed. This year has been a journey as I built my own personal relationship with grief. 

After it all happened, in peoples' desperate attempts to lighten my pain, I heard over and over again, "At least it happened before she was born and before you got to know her. That would have been harder." That's very true. I didn't know what life was like with Madelyn, so I didn't have to organize a new life in that sense. But I didn't get to know her; how awful is that? I don't know what life is like with her here. I never got to know her. In some ways, that's just as bad. These people had wonderful intentions, but all I heard repeated in my mind was, "YOU DON'T KNOW YOUR DAUGHTER." It's something I think about all the time. I look at her pictures often and try to imagine what she would look like now as a 1-year-old. Would her hair be blond and curly like mine? What would her laugh sound like? We should be as hyper and active as she was in the womb? Would she have her daddy's eyes? I lie awake at night imagining what it would be like. I never got to hear her cry. I never got to see her open her eyes. I never heard her breathe. I hold on to those times that I heard her heart beating and felt her doing ninja kicks inside me. It's the only proof I have that she was ever alive. I don't have videos and pictures and moments with her to look back on. Like I was told a million times, I never got to know her.

It's hard in that sense too, because some people would consider me a "first time mom" now that I am pregnant again. Like Madelyn never happened. Like I didn't carry her for over 8 months and give birth to her and hold her and lover and cry over her body. I'm not a mom yet, because I didn't get to know her.

I haven't spent this last year the way I thought I would; getting to know my baby. Instead, I've learned a hell of lot of different lessons. Few people know truly how dark it got at times. But I don't want to focus on the darkness anymore. I have learned a lot these past 365 days. I want to share what this year has taught me.

I'm not in control, and that's okay.
This is a lesson I learn over and over again. I never seem to quite soak it in all the way. Although I control my choices, I cannot always control what happens to me. I am learning that I can't get set in my ways and set in my plans, because who knows what the Lord has planned for me! I am excited to see what the future holds. He has put me through a lot, but afterward, he always blesses me ten fold.

Marriage is teamwork.
I've talked about about what losing Madelyn has done for my marriage. But more than anything, it taught me that we are a team. We work together. Nathan grieved very differently than I did. After the first couple weeks, he didn't cry. He had a lot of faith and hope in the future. But he didn't leave me behind. He worked with me through my grief process, even though it was hard for him. 

It's okay to be weak. 
It was so hard for to continually hear people say, "You are so strong!" Because I wasn't strong. I was a mess. But hearing that put this pressure on me to pretend I was strong. It took me a long time before I really let myself be sad in front of people besides my husband and family and very close friends. I have always had trouble being sad. I am usually a very lighthearted and optimistic person. I could tell it made people feel weird that I was so sad. I hated that. But I got past it, because I needed to be weak sometimes! I needed to be sad! I can remember being at my in-laws one time and there were a few triggers that set me off. I kept telling myself, "Don't ruin everyone's night, Kaitlin!!" But I finally gave in. I told Nathan I was incredibly sad, would be crying in the bedroom, and that everyone should watch the movie without me. Nathan asked me what he should tell his family. I thought about it for a bit and then told them to tell them the truth. It was liberating because I wasn't hiding. I wasn't pretending to be strong. I was allowing myself to be weak. it wasn't until I did that, that I could finally start finding my strength again.

Everyone has trials.
It's so easy to sit and think you have it harder than everyone else. Heaven knows I did that. Social media doesn't help. I had so many cool experiences where I saw a new side of someone and was really exposed to the pain and the trials that person had been through. It humbled me. It taught me to be grateful. It taught me to love others. I had a challenge that most people knew about. I went from pregnant, to not pregnant. It isn't an easy one to hide. But so many people battle private demons that we know nothing about. We shouldn't compare our lives to anyone. We all have battles.

Sometimes, life sucks.
It just does. It happens to everyone. You can;'t sit around and wait for life to be happy again. You just have to live through the suckiness. I just wanted to lay in bed for months and not deal with anything. But we can't do that. You wake up, you breathe, you move forward. Sometimes, that's all you can do. But it's enough. Life sucks for everyone at some point. That's life! But we can't give up. And we can't stop moving. Life can still be good in less than perfect circumstances. There is so much to be thankful for!
"How much of life do we miss by waiting to see the rainbow before thanking God there is rain?" -Elder Uchtdorf

How to comfort those who have lost.
I can't say I'm an expert, but I did learn a TON by the way people comforted me. I know everyone came from a place of love, but some people just said the worst things. Some people did insensitive things without thinking. Some people ignored me or pretended it didn't happen. Some people went overboard and treated me like I was made of glass and might break any second. So I feel better equipped to know how to be there when someone I know goes through some form of loss. I actually wrote a post about it a few months back.

I am a mom.
"Do you guys have any kids?" Ohhh that's my favorite question! What am I supposed to say?
"Yes, but one died."
"No."
"Kinda."
If I say no, I feel like I am forgetting all about Madelyn and not being truthful. If I say yes, then they want to know more and I have to admit that she died. Then people get all kinds of uncomfortable. Then they end of apologizing, and then you end up having to comfort them. It's awful. When people would ask me that originally, I would always just say no and avoid the awkwardness. Now I let them know about Madelyn. And I'm not apologetic. I'm a mom. And I love my daughter. I'm not going to hide her.

Heavenly Father knows us better than we could ever know ourselves.
There were times that I was mad that Heavenly Father "took" my baby from me. I was mad a lot, actually. But I would always be reminded by the gentle spirit that she was just on loan to me anyway. In the moments when I wasn't angry, I realized that he was giving me so much. And although I wish I had my baby, there were things I needed to learn that this experience taught me. But he didn't leave me alone. He gave me the people, things, and experiences I needed. He knew exactly what I needed. Long before I did.

Families are forever.
Through many spiritual experiences, I have had my testimony of eternal families confirmed to me over and over. I will never forget the first time i went back to the temple after she died, and the overwhelming feeling I had that she was there, just beyond the veil, waiting for me and that I would get to have her forever. There have been several instances, including a beautiful moment in the hospital, that I knew she was there with us. I am so thankful for the knowledge of the Plan of Salvation. I know that Madelyn lived before she came here, and that I will be with her again.