Hope

Today was a hard day. Last night, Preslee appeared in my dreams. I hate dreaming of her. I know that sounds horrible, but I hate waking up and not having her with us. I hate realizing what reality really is. I feel like I'm saying goodby all over again.

I haven't had a day like this in a long time. And then it reminded me how far I've come. It reminded me that what I felt today, used to be my "normal." But now, the good days outweigh the bad and I realize the horrible days won't last forever.

It seems like I'm constantly being introduced to new stories of people losing loved ones, especially children. So today, I want to pass on a little hope.

Right after Preslee died, I remember feeling like I would never be happy again. I was slowly slipping into a deep dark hole. There was a sick horrible feeling that permanently resided in my stomach, and I wondered if it would ever go away. My thoughts were consumed with everything we had just experienced, and I longed to escape such thoughts with sleep. But sleep didn't come easily for me or my husband, we would both lay awake for hours. We began to live life on autopilot as we did what was required of us, and rarely anything else, mostly because we were just too emotionally and physically exhausted.

In the midst of trying to survive, we received a gift from another mom who had also buried her sweet little girl. In a letter she had written, she told me to hang on, because there was hope. She acknowledged the pain I was feeling, and proceeded to tell me there would be a day in the future when I would be happy again. Yes, truly happy. That a couple of years later, she could now fall off her chair from laughing so hard. She left me feeling so hopeful. And today was the day I realized that lately, I too have felt that same happiness that the letter focused on.

And to all of you who have recently lost someone, I want to do the same for you. There really can be hope in your future, even though I know you don't feel like it's possible. I now find myself laughing, and I hear Patrick laugh more often. We even laugh together, which was rare for such a long time. That sick feeling in my stomach is no longer a constant, but rather comes and goes, just like it did today. I still think about Preslee a big majority of the day, but there are less tears involved. As time passes, I'm learning to incorporate her into my day in my own little way, finding ways I can still feel like I'm her mom.

And lately, I've caught myself smiling at more memories, rather than crying. It's always been tough for me to look at the playground in the park across the street. I'd avoid driving past it at all costs. But this week, I found myself smiling as I passed it. Sweet memories flooded my mind of the many hours Pres and I spent there. Especially thinking of pushing Preslee on the swings and of her chasing an older boy kicking a soccer ball while screaming "Ba, ba" (meaning ball) The memories are really beginning to be sweet, rather than bitter.

Grieving is a journey, and you'll find many different ways to cope. I think of so many of you on a daily basis, and pray for you. My heart will always go out to those who so desperately long to be a mom, because I truly know how painful it is. Sometimes I feel guilty blogging so much about Ledger, because before he was born, I tried to avoid the blogs who were always blogging about their kids. It was just too painful to read. I promise, if you invite the Savior into your life, He'll bring you out of that deep hole you find yourself in today, and happiness will play a role in your life once again.

Love,
Ashley