Tuesday, December 31, 2013
Loss and 2014
Celebrating New Years is hard for me because with each passing year comes the anniversary of Hannah's death. On January 17th Hannah will have been gone 4 years. Can I just say that it feels like it's been an eternity since I held my precious girl and we laughed and played together. This holiday season has been one of tears for me. I haven't cried this much since her death. I'll be driving down the road and have to pull over as tears flood my eyes. Songs are really making me cry very easily. I watched a Garth Brooks special the other night and cried through the entire thing...and he was funny most of the time. It's the nostalgia or something. I just find myself really close to tears a lot lately. As hard as it was sometimes, I loved my life with Hannah. I loved that beautiful soul so very much. She inspired every minute of everyday. Some people don't understand that because all they see is the hardship, but in spite of the hardship we just had an incredibly beautiful life that can only be experienced in the midst of it. God was so very real and present to us every minute of every day. Hannah loved school and she was a teacher. She taught me so many lessons about life. I miss those lessons. They're hard to remember when she isn't here giving her refresher courses. She taught me how to fight, to stand up for what I thought and felt was right, to live in the moment, to play, to laugh, to dream, to hope, to believe in myself, to let others love me, and that it is o.k. to need help. She sure did, and I owe her so much for the life I'm able to live today. Sometimes I find myself feeling guilty for being happy. It's hard. Some mornings I just wake up and ask God to please grab her while she's running around up in heaven, squeeze her tight, kiss her forehead, and tell her that her mommy told Him to tell her that she loves her so very much, will never forget her, and thank her for being my little girl. I so hope she knows how much she was loved and is missed. That being said, I am happy, and that is something I would have never thought I could say. I have an incredible husband who loves me unconditionally and makes me laugh hysterically. I have two of the most wonderful young men as sons. I love their heart for others, and their dreams for their futures. I have been blessed with some amazing friends that keep me going when I think I can't go anymore. I have a fantastic job that I love with a boss that appreciates my crazy mind (most of the time). :-) I am a college student at 43 years of age pursuing a degree that will help me fulfill my dreams for future endeavors. On top of all that God has seen fit to allow me to work with organizations working with broken women and I love it. I'm blessed in the midst of great grief. Who would have thought? Not me. Can you be happy and sad at the same time....YES. As much as I hate crying and feeling blue, it's part of loving someone and losing them so I have to allow myself to feel what I feel when I feel it. 2014 is on the horizon, and I've decided I'm just going to let it be. I'm going to cry and feel blue, but I'm also going to be happy. God has been so incredibly good to me in the midst of my grief and I am forever thankful. To my Hannah...thank you for being the amazingly beautiful person you were, and for loving your mommy. I will forever miss you, love you, and will NEVER forget you. I'm who I am today because you were part of my life. Thank you! To all of you...I hope your 2014 brings you the joy you all deserve. God Bless, and Happy New Year!
Saturday, October 26, 2013
November & Hannah
This morning I woke up thinking about Hannah. I sure
miss that girl! She was an incredible life force in the short years she
was with us. She touched people just being Hannah. It was so awesome
being her momma. So grateful to God for the precious gift of her life.
Not to make Hannah's life all about me, but I have to tell you that I honestly believe Hannah was a gift from God straight to me. I was in a very bad place when I found out I was carrying Hannah. She wasn't a planned baby, and although I wanted her the minute I knew she was conceived, I struggled greatly the entire pregnancy physically, mentally, and emotionally. I had worked my whole life to be good enough, to be what people wanted me to be, to hide my shame, and about the time I found out I was pregnant with Hannah everything seemed to be falling apart. I found myself super sick throughout my entire pregnancy, but was afraid to let anyone know it. In my mind every relationship I had was dependent on what I could do for them, so if they knew how sick I was then the relationship would end. A severe depression had set in. I was slowly and completely giving up on life, and embracing death.
The weekend of Hannah's birth was a whirlwind. My brother and his family was down for a visit. I was sick the entire time. I took a whole bottle of tums trying to relieve the pressure in my upper abdomen. I finally decided to call the doctor and he ordered me to the hospital immediately. When I got there I had severe eclampsia. I was immediately put on a monitor and vitals were taken every 30 minutes for the next two days. It was a weekend. My doctor came in on Monday morning and announced that she would have to take the baby. I was 27 weeks. She said that if they did not take the baby, we would both die. I opted to wait until the next day to have her so I could take steroid shots that would strengthen Hannah's lungs and give her a better chance of survival. It was a very miserable 24 hours until the delivery. I honestly thought Hannah and I both were going to die and I was ready. I was completely exhausted with life. My heart hurt for my boys but I was convinced they'd be better off without me. I was ready to go.
During the delivery I waited to hear her cry. The doctor had told us that if she cried it would be a good sign. I heard her cry and I cried. They took her over to a table to work on her, and announced that they had a feisty one on their hands. I smiled. A strength begin to build in me at that moment. I was afraid to get attached to her because I was still not sure she or I either one was going to live. Not long after leaving the hospital without her I sat on the side of my bed with an entire bottle of pain meds ready to take them all. I decided to call and check on her and got a good report from the nurses. I sat the bottle down thinking "Marcey, you're baby girl is fighting to live. You owe it to her to fight also." The next day I stood at her incubator promising to get help so I could be the best mom her and her brothers could have. I wasn't sure where the help would come from, but I was going to look for it. A journey of healing began that continues to this day. There have been many heartaches along the way, but I've held onto the hope that was born in me through Hannah.
And that is my life with Hannah in a nutshell. She continually inspired me, and still does. Hannah taught me to fight, to let people in, and that it was o.k. to need help. She reminded me that I love to learn, and gave me a reason to learn something new every single day. She taught me that melt downs are a necessary thing in life, and that as long as you get up and keep moving you have nothing to be ashamed of. Hannah taught me to live life in the moment, to celebrate the small things, and to appreciate everything. Hannah taught me to live well. Although I wish I could have had her longer, I am grateful to God for the gift of her life that I got to share. She's my angel and inspiration. I'll just keep missing her and never forget. If she meant anything to you, please do not forget. Live in her inspiration as I do. God Bless!
Not to make Hannah's life all about me, but I have to tell you that I honestly believe Hannah was a gift from God straight to me. I was in a very bad place when I found out I was carrying Hannah. She wasn't a planned baby, and although I wanted her the minute I knew she was conceived, I struggled greatly the entire pregnancy physically, mentally, and emotionally. I had worked my whole life to be good enough, to be what people wanted me to be, to hide my shame, and about the time I found out I was pregnant with Hannah everything seemed to be falling apart. I found myself super sick throughout my entire pregnancy, but was afraid to let anyone know it. In my mind every relationship I had was dependent on what I could do for them, so if they knew how sick I was then the relationship would end. A severe depression had set in. I was slowly and completely giving up on life, and embracing death.
The weekend of Hannah's birth was a whirlwind. My brother and his family was down for a visit. I was sick the entire time. I took a whole bottle of tums trying to relieve the pressure in my upper abdomen. I finally decided to call the doctor and he ordered me to the hospital immediately. When I got there I had severe eclampsia. I was immediately put on a monitor and vitals were taken every 30 minutes for the next two days. It was a weekend. My doctor came in on Monday morning and announced that she would have to take the baby. I was 27 weeks. She said that if they did not take the baby, we would both die. I opted to wait until the next day to have her so I could take steroid shots that would strengthen Hannah's lungs and give her a better chance of survival. It was a very miserable 24 hours until the delivery. I honestly thought Hannah and I both were going to die and I was ready. I was completely exhausted with life. My heart hurt for my boys but I was convinced they'd be better off without me. I was ready to go.
During the delivery I waited to hear her cry. The doctor had told us that if she cried it would be a good sign. I heard her cry and I cried. They took her over to a table to work on her, and announced that they had a feisty one on their hands. I smiled. A strength begin to build in me at that moment. I was afraid to get attached to her because I was still not sure she or I either one was going to live. Not long after leaving the hospital without her I sat on the side of my bed with an entire bottle of pain meds ready to take them all. I decided to call and check on her and got a good report from the nurses. I sat the bottle down thinking "Marcey, you're baby girl is fighting to live. You owe it to her to fight also." The next day I stood at her incubator promising to get help so I could be the best mom her and her brothers could have. I wasn't sure where the help would come from, but I was going to look for it. A journey of healing began that continues to this day. There have been many heartaches along the way, but I've held onto the hope that was born in me through Hannah.
And that is my life with Hannah in a nutshell. She continually inspired me, and still does. Hannah taught me to fight, to let people in, and that it was o.k. to need help. She reminded me that I love to learn, and gave me a reason to learn something new every single day. She taught me that melt downs are a necessary thing in life, and that as long as you get up and keep moving you have nothing to be ashamed of. Hannah taught me to live life in the moment, to celebrate the small things, and to appreciate everything. Hannah taught me to live well. Although I wish I could have had her longer, I am grateful to God for the gift of her life that I got to share. She's my angel and inspiration. I'll just keep missing her and never forget. If she meant anything to you, please do not forget. Live in her inspiration as I do. God Bless!
Hannah Gabrielle Chapman 5/30/2001 - 1/17/2010
November is
Epilepsy awareness month. It is super important that more attention and
funding is given to this illness. Too many families are losing their
children. I lost my angel girl to a status seizure. Her brain and
organs were damaged beyond repair and we had to say goodbye and watch as
she was removed from life support. Please help in any way you can to
bring awareness and support to the epilepsy community. Check out the
links to the right towards the bottom for places to help. Hannah story,
Chelsea Hutchison foundation, Dravet foundation, Idea League, Danny
Did, Purple day for epilepsy, and epilepsy foundation.
Thursday, October 3, 2013
Spammers
I have had to change the settings to this site to only allow comments from registered users because it's been attacked lately with spammers. I know I don't post here much, but when I need to I come here and read about Hannah's life and remember it wasn't all just a dream. I hope to be able to keep this up for quite some time. Maybe I can figure out how to print it up and bind it together so I'll have it always. At any rate, I apologize if the ability to leave comments is inconvenient. I just can't risk this site being destroyed. God Bless!
Tuesday, May 28, 2013
Almost 12 (forgive the chaotic order of this post please! :-)
I really hate that I do not get to write here often. This blog is so very important to me. I'm grateful that I took the time to blog about things that would seem insignificant, because with Hannah gone not a single moment with her seems insignificant now. I can't tell you how comforting it is to get to go back and read over our last few years together. I LOVED being Hannah's mom. Even in the hardest of times she made life with her a joy.
The last few weeks have been very reflective for me. Several things have taken place...
I work with individuals who have disabilities on a daily basis and I love it. It's so much more than a job to me. It has its bad days, but the good ones outnumber the bad ones. Last week part of my job involved me taking a client into three life skills classrooms in three different schools. They call it life skills but it's academic and life skills rolled up in one. I call it "old school". :-) Two of the classrooms were classes Hannah actually attended. The third was the one she would currently be attending if she was still with us. I was a little worried about how this would affect me emotionally being so close to her 12th birthday. It really was good for me however. It felt great to be among people, and in places Hannah loved. I was reminded how loved Hannah was and continues to be. I'm grateful for the experience.
A beautiful little girl passed away from a status seizure last week. She had Dravet syndrome. I watched(through facebook) as her family wrestled with all the things we wrestled with before we had to say bye to Hannah. My heart broke for them and continues to. I couldn't help but think that maybe Hannah would meet her and show her the ropes. :-) Too many families losing their babies to seizures. :-( It's beyond hard.
I was feeling guilty because I didn't think I was doing enough to keep Hannah's memory alive. I haven't started a foundation, have only done small fund raisers for epilepsy awareness, and still haven't written that book I had planned to write. I had a dream that was so real. In my dream I was at a playground and kids were running around like crazy having the time of their life. I found myself desperately looking for Hannah and I couldn't find her in the crowd. I was incredibly sad and feeling like a huge failure. My head was tucked when I heard a familiar voice. It was Hannah. She ran up to me, wrapped her arms around my hips and said, "it's o.k. mommy", and then ran back to play. The "it's o.k. mommy" woke me out of a dead sleep. It was so very real. I wish I could adequately describe it. It just felt like Hannah was letting me off the hook.
So, those are just a few of the things that have taken place and made me really reflect, grieve, and celebrate my life with Hannah. She's been gone over 3 years now. So hard to believe.
On Saturday the boys, David, and I made a trip to the cemetery. Hannah would have been 12 this Thursday, the 30th. I always make a wreath for Hannah's birthday but this year I just haven't been in a place where I could. In February I had a serious episode with my esophagus and it threw me for a loop. I was pretty much useless for a couple of months. Then work got really busy, the semester was coming to a close, and finals were happening. With the stress from all of that, I had a flare up of CFS(chronic fatigue syndrome). Ugh! It was depressing. I am so blessed with wonderful friends though. My fantastic friend Shelley took care of getting a wreath for us to take to Hannah's grave. It was perfect. We usually release balloons for the number of years she would be old. This year I decided to buy four plain balloons, and we each wrote a message to Hannah on them, then released them. It felt right. See the photos below.
After the cemetery we were able to meet some dear friends from the hood for dinner. It was great to catch up with them. They were greatly used by God in our lives at the time of Hannah's passing and continue to bless our lives. Friends are priceless you know! We're so blessed!
Thank you all so much for loving our girl and for loving us! We wouldn't make it without the prayers and support of our friends. You've kept us going in some really hard times. Please continue to keep us in your prayers, and remember that seizures do take lives! Precious beautiful boys and girls! Someone's baby! Love on a family when you hear their child has seizures and remember Hannah! All my Love! Marcey
The last few weeks have been very reflective for me. Several things have taken place...
I work with individuals who have disabilities on a daily basis and I love it. It's so much more than a job to me. It has its bad days, but the good ones outnumber the bad ones. Last week part of my job involved me taking a client into three life skills classrooms in three different schools. They call it life skills but it's academic and life skills rolled up in one. I call it "old school". :-) Two of the classrooms were classes Hannah actually attended. The third was the one she would currently be attending if she was still with us. I was a little worried about how this would affect me emotionally being so close to her 12th birthday. It really was good for me however. It felt great to be among people, and in places Hannah loved. I was reminded how loved Hannah was and continues to be. I'm grateful for the experience.
A beautiful little girl passed away from a status seizure last week. She had Dravet syndrome. I watched(through facebook) as her family wrestled with all the things we wrestled with before we had to say bye to Hannah. My heart broke for them and continues to. I couldn't help but think that maybe Hannah would meet her and show her the ropes. :-) Too many families losing their babies to seizures. :-( It's beyond hard.
I was feeling guilty because I didn't think I was doing enough to keep Hannah's memory alive. I haven't started a foundation, have only done small fund raisers for epilepsy awareness, and still haven't written that book I had planned to write. I had a dream that was so real. In my dream I was at a playground and kids were running around like crazy having the time of their life. I found myself desperately looking for Hannah and I couldn't find her in the crowd. I was incredibly sad and feeling like a huge failure. My head was tucked when I heard a familiar voice. It was Hannah. She ran up to me, wrapped her arms around my hips and said, "it's o.k. mommy", and then ran back to play. The "it's o.k. mommy" woke me out of a dead sleep. It was so very real. I wish I could adequately describe it. It just felt like Hannah was letting me off the hook.
So, those are just a few of the things that have taken place and made me really reflect, grieve, and celebrate my life with Hannah. She's been gone over 3 years now. So hard to believe.
On Saturday the boys, David, and I made a trip to the cemetery. Hannah would have been 12 this Thursday, the 30th. I always make a wreath for Hannah's birthday but this year I just haven't been in a place where I could. In February I had a serious episode with my esophagus and it threw me for a loop. I was pretty much useless for a couple of months. Then work got really busy, the semester was coming to a close, and finals were happening. With the stress from all of that, I had a flare up of CFS(chronic fatigue syndrome). Ugh! It was depressing. I am so blessed with wonderful friends though. My fantastic friend Shelley took care of getting a wreath for us to take to Hannah's grave. It was perfect. We usually release balloons for the number of years she would be old. This year I decided to buy four plain balloons, and we each wrote a message to Hannah on them, then released them. It felt right. See the photos below.
Thank you all so much for loving our girl and for loving us! We wouldn't make it without the prayers and support of our friends. You've kept us going in some really hard times. Please continue to keep us in your prayers, and remember that seizures do take lives! Precious beautiful boys and girls! Someone's baby! Love on a family when you hear their child has seizures and remember Hannah! All my Love! Marcey
Friday, April 26, 2013
Kills me...
It is very painful that I have not had anything to post here in 8 months. I went through the holidays, the third anniversary of your passing, and now it's the end of another school year. Not a single day goes by that I don't think about you beautiful girl. Mommy loves you and would give anything to be able to write about all you and I are experiencing together. I'll never forget...Love you forever!
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