Simply A Farmer’s Wife

My Place In This World
February 20, 2008, 10:12 pm
Filed under: CDH, CDH Awareness, Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia, Family, Loss, Love, Parker, Prayer, Sadness

The last few days have been hard.  Really hard.  I started blogging because I needed a form of therapy without really going to see a therapist.  I didn’t want to be one of those people.  You know that kind that need saving.  I didn’t want others looking at me as though I was weak.  Or crazy.  I wanted to shield myself and make others believe that I was okay.  The truth is folks I’m not okay. 

I am weak.

I am fragile. 

I am mad. 

I am angry. 

I am hurt. 

I am lost. 

This journey, aka grief, is one that I was never prepared for.  Saturday Ashley and I went to look for headstones.  Imagine that for a moment.  I mean actually imagine it.  Two people.  Husband and wife.  One 31 years old and the other 27 years old.  Walking around the hundreds of headstones like two zombies.  Neither of us could keep from crying.  And just being pissed off.  Our daughter is turning two in a few months and instead of buying her toys or clothes we are purchasing her a headstone.  It’s definitely not what we had planned but it’s our lives. 

We found one.  I guess it’s perfect.  I mean nothing in my eyes could ever be good enough for our little girl.  We are happy with it and what it will say.  We go to order it on Saturday.  I felt like I had had the wind knocked out of me that day.   Have you ever had that dream where you are running from someone and you are screaming but no sound comes out?  Yeah that’s my life on a daily basis.  I feel like I’m screaming and no one is hearing me.    I will never be the person I was I suppose.  I don’t know that I want to be that person again.  I wasn’t happier then but hell I’m not happy now.  I am so surprised that I’m still married.  That he hasn’t gotten up and walked out.  God I wouldn’t blame him if he did.   I am such a mean person.  I am such an angry person.  Most of my life is a lie.  It’s one big facade.  I do and say what makes others happy because I can’t stand the looks I get or the lectures.  I am just so sick of it. 

I just want my little girl back.  I want to hold her one more time.  I want to kiss her lips again.  I want to smell her.  If  I had known my time with her was so limited I would have memorized every detail of her.  I would have never left her side.   I go to her grave more often now than I was.  I enjoy my talks with her.  And yeah I know she’s not there.  A grave is a place for those left behind to memorialize and grieve at.  I realize my daughter’s soul was never there as she had a place in Heaven long before she took her last breath.  The grave yard is a very peaceful place.  I read her stories every now and then.  I imagine myself rocking her as she twists my hair and sucks her thumb.  The images of her are vivid.   So much so they are heartbreaking.

Most people don’t realize that grief isn’t just an emotional pain but a physical one too.  There are days when my body hurts so bad for her that I can’t sleep.  I made an appointment today to go see my doctor and get back on some medication.  I need it.  I know I’m not right without it.  I know that one day I will be but that day isn’t today.   And tomorrow my mission is to find someone to talk to.  Someone far more qualified than this blog.  Someone who can help me find my place in this world. 

We aren’t ready to be parents again.   That too is heartbreaking as 10 of my friends are pregnant.  My joy for them gets lost sometimes because of my own fears and insecurities.  It’s not fair to them and what kind of friend am I?  Really. 

My faith in God is steadfast.  I trust Him.  And there are days when I refuse to let go but I know once I do He’s there waiting on me.  I wish I could give Him control.  I wish I could find the peace I pretend to have.  I wish I was as happy as everyone thought I was.  But more than anything my wish is to find myself again.  To find God’s grace in everything.  Not just the good but the bad too.  To not be so contradicting.  To be more trusting.  To learn to love again.  I am terrified of loving again.  I never knew that kind of love until I knew Parker.  It’s amazing beyond words.  And her death can’t take that away.  Nothing can.  I will love her to the ends of the earth and back, Always. 

Please lift us up in prayer as we travel this journey with no tour guide or map.  We are winging it y’all.   And gosh neither of us are really good at stuff like this.  Prayer is a powerful thing people.   We have witnessed that fact many times.  If nothing else I hold onto the promises He has made me.   So that’s all for tonight.   I am off to try and get some sleep.  To try and find that one dream where is everything is perfect. 


13 Comments so far
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I’m at a loss for words. I don’t fully understand your pain, but I get that you are hurting and grieving and sad. And you know what, that’s okay! I think sometimes people believe that the grieving process is like a staircase, but then forget that you can up and down. It’s not a one-way staircase upward to getting better, it’s one step up then 2 steps down. Gradually you move on, the pain isn’t as numbing, and you still hurt but not as much. Girl, do whatever you need to do to get yourself better, and hopefully the truth of Job 23:10 “when he [God] hath tried me, I shall come forth as gold” will comfort you. I will definitely be praying for you and Ashley.


Comment by South Carolina Mom

I’m so sorry Jes. I feel your agony in my heart so deeply and just wish that I could hug you so tight. I hope tomorrow is a step forward in this back and forth and back process that we live. Praying for you and Ashley every step of the way. Loving you three always. Love Lauren

Comment by Lauren

Jess I have no words of wisdom. I just wanted you to know that we love you lots and I’m sending huge hugs and a shoulder your way.I’m always here.


Comment by Tiff


I know your pain and I’ll walk with you and hold you up anytime you need me. My heart is broken too and sometimes there is NOTHING that can make you feel better! I know this all to well. Just know that you’re not crazy. And you help me to face the music by being so willing to bare your soul. I am so thankful to know you, regardless of how we met.

Love ya girl,

Comment by Bethany


I’m thinking of you – and praying for you to find some path through this with Ashley. Big hugs to you, Jes. Love you.

Comment by Shawn C

You are weak.
I am here for you when you need me.

You are fragile.
I am here for you when you need me.

You are mad.
I am here for you when you need me.

You are angry.
I am here for you when you need me.

You are hurt.
I am here for you when you need me.

You are lost.
I am here for you when you need me.

Comment by Shawn C

i don’t know what to say…i feel like i am one of those people that are i your life right now making it harder…which is not what i want…

but i am here for you…

Comment by Aimee

Hang in there girl, it can only get better from here on out. The fact that you are able to right about it and get out emotions is very productive. A lot of people love and care about you. Please don’t let them down 🙂

Comment by johnnypeepers

Praying for you today, Jessica.
Stacy Ernst

Comment by Stacy

Oh Dear Jessica,

The pain you explained is so vivid! I remember last year at this time, Donny and I walking into that place to pick out a headstone. It’s so unfair. Not what we should have to do for our babies. It was right before his one year birthday. I felt as you do. I should be out buying him tons of toys and clothes, not a marble stone to memorialize him at a graveyard. I am in tears, fighting them back just remembering this. We should have our babies in our arms. Donny’s 2nd birthday is fast approaching as well. And instead of celebrating and looking forward to it, a part of me dreads it. But I will celebrate, for him. I guess what I’m trying to say in all of this is….I understand how hard this is and how much it hurts. We all feel differently and react differently. But we all have one common thing. Our babies are in heaven and we must find a way to keep on living. It is so hard. And I am so sorry you must travel this journey. Now I’m crying with you. Yeah, the pain is just too much at times. I’m so sorry.

Comment by Theresa

I don’t know you but I found your blog about a month ago and read it often. I have a very dear friend who lost a son to CDH and she has another son (age 2) with it now. I cannot imagine your pain because my husband and I were never blessed with children. 😦 I am praying daily for you and your husband.

Comment by Gina

I just found your blog while doing cdh research. I am so sorry for your loss. I to have made that stroll through the cemetary to choose a headstone color ( I designed my daughters headstone.) I remember it like it was yesterday I felt so much pain and confusion it felt so unreal and it still hurts just the same today. My daughter was a twin Nichole survived Madison was stillborn. I still visit her grave every week and have for over 6 years now. I don’t want to make you feel worse but I wish I would have had someone anyone tell me what it was going to be like in the years to come. I remember asking everyone when the pain will go away, I have learned that the person who said time heals all pain is an idiot and has never lost a child. You will find your own way to get through this and you will get through this but it will not be easy and that is ok. Take your time don’t be in a hurry I have learned that death can be as precious as birth and that it is ok to celebrate. I buy Madison something for her birthday and christmas and every other holiday or just because I saw something I think she might like and then I donate that item to a church or some other charity and it helps me keep her in my life some of my family thinks that I am silly for doing this and that is ok I understand that they don’t understand. Try to take your life one breath at a time. I also have a 3 year old son with cdh and I have watched him strugle with many health problems and if you would like to talk I will be here for you. We don’t know each other but I will keep you in my prayers and pray that you receive the strenght that you need to keep going.

Comment by Andrea


Life’s highways are neither straight, or easily traveled. Things,
both good and bad, happen for unexplained reasons. I found
your story quite by accident, but maybe it was no accident at all. I was online a little while ago, and I saw a news story
about a Christian singer (Steven Curtis Chapman), whose
5-year old daughter Maria, had been hit and killed by an
automobile, tragically driven by her teenage brother. I
recognized the name, but couldn’t place the singer, so I
googled his name, and found out that he was the artist who has a wonderful, and moving song, titled “Cinderella”. After going to his website, and listening to the song, and watching a video relaying the origins of the song, I started thinking
about another song that I like very much, titled “My Place in This World”, by Michael W. Smith. When I googled the song title, I came across an entry that led me to your blog posting.
Let me tell you that I feel every bit of your pain, as my girlfriend and I lost our second child on February 7, 2007 to
congenital heart defects. Katie was born on Halloween morning, October 31, 2006 at Plantation General Hospital
(in suburban Ft. Lauderdale, Florida) and was transferred
later that afternoon to Miami Children’s Hospital. She had
been diagnosed in utero, with Tricuspid Atresia, and later
with a leaking mitral valve. She had two open heart surgeries,
one at eight days old, and the second at five weeks of age.
She never left the hospital, never got off her breathing tube,
although the doctors attempted it twice, and she passed away after a brief, and tortured, life of 100 days.

Although we were aware of her condition before she was born
we never for a moment considered the possibility that she
would not come home from the hospital. And as much as we tried to prepare ourselves for her arrival and subsequent
medical care, we could never have understood what we
ultimately faced during those 100 days at the hospital.

She was baptized before her first surgery, and our only
solace is the knowledge that she is no longer suffering
and is most certainly in Heaven, looking down on us and her
big brother Kevin, who will be four in August. My heart breaks
when he asks about Katie, as he has done recently. He
would have been a remarkable big brother to his adorable
little sister.

We miss our daughter so very much, and the pain in my heart
just won’t go away……and I am not really sure that I want it
to. So many times I feel she is right here with me….when I
see a butterfly dancing in front of me, or I see the birds in our yard flittering around….seemingly making sure that I see them.

We have our own special angel looking over us, as you have
your own in Parker…….

God bless you and your husband, your family and friends.
Life will go on, and the memories you have….are yours…..

Comment by Jack

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