I Planted a Garden
The journey of choosing joy while grieving the loss of my daughter.
Faced with an unspeakable loss, I made the choice to see the light in the darkest of times.
I Planted a Garden
My Job as a Mom
I had Emily when I was 26 years old. From the beginning it was just me and her. And my family; my mom, dad, brother, sister-in-law, and sister. I was the middle child, well supported from all sides. From the moment she was born she changed us. We were already close, as far as family goes, but with the addition of her, we were bigger, stronger, more full of love and happiness. Not just for her, but for each other as well.
When she was born, I lived with my parents. I had moved back in a few months before I found myself pregnant. The move was for financial reasons. I had realized that if I ever wanted to get out of apartment living, I needed to pay off some bills and put money aside so I could buy a house. It was a one-year plan, but four months in, an old friend and I got together and low and behold, Emily was created. My one-year plan now became a plan with no end date, though I'm pleased to report that after an additional year, I was able to buy a townhouse for me and my baby. We moved to our new house on her first birthday.
To live with my parents during my pregnancy and that first year was the greatest gift. There was never a question of our roles or responsibilities in regards to parenting Emily. I was her mother. They were her grandparents. I provided for her in every way a mother can and should. They doted on her in every possible way, all while providing me with support in finding my way, as every new parent must. From dirty diapers to sleepless nights and everything in between, I was the MOM. But they had dual roles as her grandparents and my mom & dad.
The biggest benefit of living with my parents that first year came from the amount of encouragement I received from them. Not only was I a new mom, a first-time mom, but I was a single mom. At that stage of her life, Emily's dad was not in the picture. All parenting duties rested firmly and finally with me. And sometimes that was scary and very overwhelming. My mom and dad were there for me every step of the way. Their love and support gave me confidence as a new mom. They gave me strength when the responsibilities felt too great. They gave me advice, but only when I was looking for it.
I remember a time when Emily was just days old and I needed to care for her umbilical cord. I was finding it hard to do. I was so afraid. Could I hurt her? She was so small. And squirmy. What if I poked her wrong while I was applying the cream? What if I didn't clean it right and she got an infection? What if? At about the time I was reaching true MOM PANIC mode, my mom appeared by my side. She walked in, took the cotton swab from my shaky hand, put some cream on it, put her hand on Emily's belly to hold her steady, and while she gently started to clean around the cord, she looked me in the eyes and said "as a mom, you will always do what you need to do to take care of your baby." Then she handed me the swab and watched while I took over the task.
Those words have always stuck with me. As a mother, I will ALWAYS do what I have to in order to care for my children. Always. It is my job. Over the years, that responsibility has looked different at various times. When she was a baby, it meant working three jobs to financially support us. When she was two (and many times thereafter), it meant allowing her to travel across the country so she could be with her dad. When she was eighteen, it was being strong enough to tell her she could no longer live with us, as her addiction was too destructive. When she died, it meant finding the courage to bury her. And now, it means being brave enough to plant a garden.