four months; the weakest.
(my view, everyday)
Today marks four months since we held our baby girl and said our goodbyes. My arms still ache to have her in them, I think they might always when I think of her. Time is flying by, reality has truly set in, and we’ve barely begun to process everything. Ted and I were talking about the past four months, trying to process the time that has passed without her and it’s truly inexplicable.
I write, and write, and write and although it’s definitely helped me process I still feel at a loss. Maybe because there is just so much.
The loss of Eisley has broken me (us) in ways like never before. Shaken me and raised up new fears in me. Brought me to feelings of despair and hopelessness. And worst of all, shattered some of our most precious hopes and dreams for our Eisley-girl, for our life with her.
Yes, to all of the above, a thousand times yes.
Yet… (and this is what I am clinging to right now)
I’m trying to cling to what her life has taught me. What her short, precious time with me meant to me. I’m clinging to how she inspired me to live as I carried her in my womb.
Finding that inspiration is harder when I can’t feel her within me anymore, when I don’t have her in my arms. It’s much, much, much harder. Four months and I feel my weakest. I guess I thought that last month too, yet here we are. To be honest, there are some days it’s a fight to get out of bed. I eat, eat, eat, eat, eat, eat – unfortunately, I’m a comfort good kinda girl.
But I can’t give up. I want to carry on Eisley’s legacy, be her voice. I long to let Chase know that even though you walk through such treacherous times, there is still hope.
Our Father is still trustworthy.
Life it still worth living.
Cliche, maybe so, but the {truth} that we’re clinging to right now.
(This little man… whew… he helps me a lot right now. His shirt “Mom’s #1 Champ” is so so fitting.)
I watch children in the nursery at our church and there is a baby boy that comes in occasionally. Chase seems like such a big boy around this little one, comforting him as he cries for his momma, leaning in to hug him and say “aww” and comfort him in the best way an 18-month-old can :) It’s so precious and I can’t help but think of how he would have been with his baby sister… I can’t really even express the pain I feel when I think about it.
There is so much pain and aching right now….yet one thing I have realized amidst everything we have and are walking through now… we are broken, shattered, crushed… but not beyond hope.
There is still hope.
Thank you Jesus for {hope}.
Hmm, what to say. It is my first time coming across your blog and how surprising it is to read about your daughter and your struggles in coming to terms with her death. It’s really a risk when we choose to love someone, when we open our hearts. We risk the pain that comes with loss if and when that day comes. You’re really brave for writing about this here in a public way, but I think that it is also going to be a meaningful way for you to remember her and to continue your relationship with her, though she is no longer here physically. You are a strong, connected and well-loved woman with lots of support around you. And I know that those reading your post, whether they are able to comment or not, are touched by your story in countless ways.
commented on your blog in response. thank you
Jami my heart breaks for you at the same time I am so proud of how you have never given up you are truly one of the most inspirational people I have ever meet. You are real and you tell the truth of where you are at. thank you for showing us that the process of healing is hard and sometimes the brokeness and pain is unbearable but God is still good. I love you my dear friend and I know Eisley’s life has rocked us to the core you are the best one to live out her legacy.
i love you dear friend.
With all you are going through, I’m sure these past 4 months have felt like 4 years, but be sure that we are still praying for you! I can tell by your posts and blogs that God is building your faith and your vision to see his hand holding yours and I’m so blessed by it. Thanks for sharing your heart with us. We are standing with you. (forever!)
Katie, you always bless me when you write. thanks for your love and encouragement and for always letting me know we’re not alone. <3
My words feel inadequate, but I am very glad you have hope, that it’s keeping you afloat.
responded with a comment to your blog :)
The real hope…and PROMISE, is that when you get to Heaven, Eisley will be waiting for you. I am so sorry she is not here with you on earth but, I am so happy you know Jesus! Lifting you up right now my friend… You are so much stronger than you know…
You are so right. That promise comforts me greatly. I will see my daughter again. Thank you friend!
Jamie, I have followed your journey from your pregnancy with Chase through your loss of your baby girl, precious Eisley. I have rejoiced, cried and prayed for you. I can’t imagine all the pain you must be feeling but, your strength in the Lord is clearly seen to all. It was a pleasure for Caleb to meet you all. Chase is an absolute doll! I pray for the Lord’s continued hope and comfort during this difficult and dark valley in your life.
send a you a facebook message! :)
i love you so much…Madre
love you too madre, you help me so much right now. xoxox
I echo Chey… I love you and you are SO strong… and you inspire so many. xo