I have one child, one beautiful daughter, and her first birthday is only a few days away.
But we will not be celebrating her birthday together.
Because she is in Heaven, and I am stuck here.
I should be planning our matching outfits, stressing over the guest list, and the perfect cake.
I should be scolding my mom for buying way too many gifts for her only grandbaby.
I should be wondering how much is too much to pay for those first birthday photoshoots.
Instead, I am grieving. I am wondering if it’s strange to have a birthday party for my dead daughter.
If I do, will anyone come?
What will people think?
Do I still bake the cake?
As my angel daughter’s first birthday quickly approaches, I am filled with ALL the feelings. I am angry that she’s not here.
Why would God give her to me and then take her away?
I am confused. Why couldn’t they save her?
I am devastated. I am so lonely. I don’t recognize myself, this new person I’ve become.
This life is so unfair; I want her here with me.
But I am also so incredibly thankful that I got to know her, even if it was only for four short months.
I am still proud to be her mama.
I am still so filled up with this love that I have for her.
And I so badly want to celebrate her first birthday.
So that’s what I’m going to do.
I’m going to celebrate my only child’s first birthday, and it won’t be the way it should be, but
it will still be a celebration.
There will be presents.
They won’t be FOR her, but they will be BECAUSE of her.
They will go to the Children’s Hospital, the only home we knew during her time here on earth. And they will bring comfort and joy to the babies fighting the battles she fought.
There will be decorations. Pink princess party decorations. Balloons and streamers and glitter for days.
And there will be butterflies, beautiful butterflies released by all of the brave, compassionate, amazing, supportive friends and family members who have bravely stood by my side through this awful, ugly eight months without her.
And there will be tears. I know there will be so many tears.
And there will be love, so much love.
And I will absolutely bake the cake.
Farryn, this is so heart-wrenching and honestly could have been written by me…our stories could not be more similar, except that I lost my daughter Evan after 45 days – 5 days after she had open heart surgery. We celebrated her first birthday on September 12th, and we did all of the things you mentioned – I made a cake, there were balloons and flowers and decorations and presents, and our friends and family dropped flowers into the river. We had all of the guests sign a book (a beautifully illustrated book that has the lyrics to a song we played at Evan’s memorial service) and its such a nice keepsake for us. I too wondered whether I went “overboard”. In the end, I wouldn’t do anything different. That day was filled with so many tears, but so much love.
What kept me from completely falling apart on Evan’s birthday was to remember that the most amazing thing that has ever happened to me occurred on this day one year ago. I hope that same reminder will help to get through Kinsley’s day No mother should have to experience what we have, but I thank you so much for sharing your story.