Letters to Emily

Below are posts made by Emily's parents. These encompass our feelings, our milestones, and every part of our journey as we honour our little girl and her life.

Our baby girl, Emily Marie, passed away suddenly at 38 weeks. Mommy intuition told us something was not right, so we went to the hospital on Monday January 17th, 2022. They couldn’t find her heartbeat and it was confirmed via ultrasound that she was not with us anymore. There are no words to describe how we felt.... the wailing, the numbness, the sorrow, the denial, the confusion. No one prepares a parent for that.

Grieving and still having to go through labour was excruciating. To go through it all and not hear Emily cry like the babies we would constantly hear on the ward as we waited for things to progress was agonizing. She was born on Wednesday, January 19th at 12:54pm and weighed 9 pounds 1 oz. We got to hold her immediately, we got to cry, we got to grieve with her in our arms... but most importantly, we took all of who she was in: her chubby cheeks, her luscious head of hair, her little button nose, her tiny little feet, and her soft tiny hands... we looked upon her, every bit of who she was to remember how she felt; to remember all the details we could.

We are not ready to say goodbye... we don't want to say goodbye.... We are not okay and the pain will always be there, but time will heal some of the agony we feel. We will remember the happiness she brought to us during those months she was with us, and we will not shy away from the raw emotions we feel. There will be triggers, there will be highs and lows, that is part of us now. But the important thing is that Emily was here, she was real. Every kick, every roll, and every hiccup was real and we want to remember every bit of this journey. She made us parents; we are mom and dad because of her and nothing can take that away from us. She will never be forgotten. She will be a part of us, our family, forever.

For every parent reading this: hug your babies tightly for us, shower them with kisses, and tell them how much you love them. Cherish every moment with them... for us... for Emily.

Our baby Jedi is now our little force ghost. We absolutely love her, our princess, forever and always. Until we meet again.... Mom & Dad ❤

We want to thank all of our family and friends for the love and support we have received during the last week. Emotions come in waves, but we have one another to lean on during the hardest of times... we absolutely miss our little Emily. ❤🌸

When God calls little children
to dwell with him above,
We mortals always question
the wisdom of his love

For no heartache compares with
the death of one small child
Who does so much to make this world,
seem wonderful and mild

Perhaps God tires always calling
the aged to his fold,
And so He picks a rosebud,
before it can grow old.

God knows how much we need them,
and so he takes but a few
To make the land of Heaven
more beautiful to view.

Believing this is difficult
still somehow we must try,
The saddest word mankind knows
will always be "Goodbye."

And so when a little ones departs
we who are left behind
Must realize God loves children,
For angels are hard to find.

Emily is home 🌸

The realization that our little girl is not here the way we dreamed it is devastating, yet there is some comfort knowing that her urn is with us now. Safe.

Grief has manifested itself in many ways in the last three weeks; physically, emotionally, socially, behaviorally, and even spiritually. Every day is different and the emotions come like ebbs and flows. Every minute and every hour is different. We will be happy one second, and crying the next. We will be dreaming of the future one second, and feel hollow and empty the next. The last couple of days I have felt a lot of anger and blame towards myself. I have felt like a failure. I can be told a million times that this was not my fault, but it doesn't change the way I feel regardless of the irrationality. The important thing is that Fred and I are together, helping each other navigate this storm, and we know we will be okay ❤

“The reality is, you will grieve forever. You will never ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole, but you will never be the same again. Nor should you be the same, nor should you want to.”

It's been a month since you were born. It's been a month... It has not been easy. We wish you were here... everything we do, we should be doing it with you in our arms... the littlest feet made the biggest footprints in our hearts...👣

I look at your pictures often, look back at the videos of your mighty kicks and rumbles inside my tummy and I feel both happiness and sadness.... I think of the first time you gave your daddy the biggest kick show & how much happiness that brought us, how much we laughed... I also remember the moment I could not feel you anymore & how much I prayed and hoped you would move again....

Your tiny feet...so perfect and so strong... how I miss them.... 👣

I miss you so much today 😢❤

It does not escape my mind that one day I woke up and I never woke up as that person again... that person full of happiness and dreams....

I have found myself crying a lot more lately. I can have many great moments and then all of the sudden a tidal wave of emotions washes over me, and I often just find myself holding onto Fred and crying "I just want my baby".

And I know that things will get better, that the anguish I feel will be more manageable, but everything is still fresh, raw... and even though the world has moved on, there is still a long road ahead of us but I am blessed to have such a loving husband to hold my hand through it all ❤

Sometimes my own words are not enough to express the grief and heartache we often feel. Reading about grief and loss has helped put some of my thoughts in some form of order when it feels like they go a million miles.

"Holding on to love after you've lost a baby" is not just a book for parents, but for grandparents, aunts and uncles, and friends who are dealing with the loss of a child. It validated many of the feelings we were feeling and provided healthy ways to work through the chaos. I posted one of the little sections that made me cry because of how much it resonated with us.

🌸🤍

👩🏻‍🏫🌸🤍

The process of coming back to school has been emotional and exhausting. Facing everyone was terrifying, but coming back to love, compassion, and support made things feel more manageable. Kids asked for hugs, asked how I was doing, and appreciated the honesty of "surviving but I know we will be okay"

Every day that I go back to the school, things will become easier to handle. Things will never go back to how they were before, and that is okay.

This is my new normal.

There was something during this trip to Hawaii that drew me to turtles. I'm not sure why it started, but I searched for them quite a bit. I knew that even though I couldn't see them on the surface of the ocean they were there. And when we did see them, they were so beautiful, so peaceful, so majestic. And each time I saw them, I thought of Emily. Like the turtle, we didn't need to see it, to know it was there. Emily was there, in our hearts, in spirit, even though we could not see her. We felt her in the things we did, the things we saw, the experiences we shared. And we missed her dearly on this trip. So now, the turtle has a much more special place in my heart.

"Turtles carry their homes on their backs.... They’re exposed and hidden at the same time. They’re a symbol of strength and perseverance.”

"The reality is, you will grieve forever. You will never ‘get over’ the loss of a loved one; you will learn to live with it. You will heal and you will rebuild yourself around the loss you have suffered. You will be whole, but you will never be the same again. Nor should you be the same, nor should you want to.”

People, with good intentions and just trying to help, have told me that I should "not be sad", that I should "not be depressed", that I need to "move on", that they "understand even though they have not lost their child", and that I should "not let Emily's death define who I am". I beg anyone who has thought this and/or has said it to someone who is grieving to stop. This doesn't help. This doesn't make things better. It just tells me that I cannot talk to you about my grief. Instead, just sit with me. Hear what I have to say. Don't try to fix me, and love me even in those moments where I can't love myself.

Everyone has this misconception that grieving parents wallow in misery and cry all day, every day, but that is not true. Even on the hardest of days, I get up, I run, I do things I love, and try my hardest to find happiness. Yes, there are crappy moments, moments where all I want to do is lay on the couch and cry, but I push myself for myself, for my husband, for my family, for Emily. It is okay to not be okay. There are no silver linings here...

Emily is a part of me. That will never change. I will never move on from her, because she is forever our daughter.

"Here’s what I most want you to know: this really is as bad as you think.
No matter what anyone says, this sucks. What has happened cannot be made right. What is lost cannot be restored. There is no beauty here, inside this is central fact. Acknowledgment is everything. You’re in pain. It can’t be made better. The reality of grief is far from what others see from the outside. There is pain in this world that you can’t be cheered out of.
You don’t need solutions. You don’t need to move on from your grief. You need someone to see your grief, to acknowledge it. You need someone to hold your hands. Some things cannot be fixed. They can only be carried."

"This book is not about fixing you, or fixing your grief. It’s not about making you “better” or getting you back to “normal.” This book is about how you live inside your loss. How you carry what cannot be fixed. How you survive.”- Megan Devine

I've been reading a couple of books to navigate grief and what it entails & this book has been one of the best. I truly believe that everyone needs to read it, not just the people who are grieving. As I read, I kept breathing sighs of relief because the more I read, the more validated I felt in my own grieving experience.

"Grief is part of love. Love for life, love for self, love for others. What you are living, painful as it is, is love. And love is really hard. Excruciating at times."

🌸📚