On October 7, 2006, my life changed forever. As I held my daughter in my arms, my only child, my beautiful 2 1/2-year-old was removed from the machine that had been keeping her alive for the last 3 days. Kaylee had contracted a rare strain of bacterial meningitis and was declared brain dead only 24 hours after I had taken her to the doctor for a stuffy nose and fever. How could this have happened to me and my family? Our beautiful little Kaylee Rose was gone, and I was completely devastated and lost.
I was a stay-at-home mom. My days consisted of caring for my daughter, taking her to Mommy and Me classes, going for walks to the park, and running errands with my little best friend always by my side. Now my days were empty, mostly spent in bed crying. It took all my energy just to brush my teeth. What was the point of living without my daughter? I thought about ending my life but how could I inflict this unbearable pain I was experiencing on my own parents.
My husband and I went for therapy. We went to bereavement groups. I read a lot of books about grief. We were lucky to have a very supportive group of friends who did food shopping for us and tried to get us out of the house. Most importantly, they would listen and cry with us when all we wanted to do was talk about our daughter and share stories. I found it very difficult to go to stores alone. Kaylee was always with me…in the backseat singing along to her favorite CDs, riding in the shopping cart chatting as we did our errands.
About 6 months after she passed, I found myself in Target…. alone, just wandering missing my little sidekick. How was the world going on around me? I started to notice ladybugs. Not real ones but on different items. Kaylee had been a ladybug for her last Halloween. I took this as a sign from my daughter that she was proud I was out of the house, trying to do something normal. She was still with me, not physically but always in my heart.
Time moved on and slowly I found my way out of the darkness. We got through all the first year “firsts.” We didn’t celebrate holidays any longer. It was too difficult to pretend to be happy. Halloween was especially tortuous. We chose to go away for these holidays to places where there weren’t many children. For the one-year anniversary we went to Las Vegas. I can’t say it was fun, but it was a distraction.
Two years after Kaylee died, we were blessed with another baby. A baby boy who looked just like his sister but had a personality very much his own. I found joy again doing things with Timmy that I used to do with his sister. We started to celebrate holidays and birthdays again. After all, he was entitled to experience all the happiness his sister had. We have always talked about Kaylee and as my son got older, he would acknowledge that he had a sister “who is in Heaven.” It made me very proud and sad at the same time. After all, he should have his sister here with him.
As the years passed, we started traditions to honor and celebrate our daughter’s life. On her birthday, I pick Timmy up from school early and he picks out balloons and a little stuffed animal to bring to the cemetery. One balloon always gets tied to the chair on the porch where she had sat watching the neighborhood kids play and waiting to say hi to the mailman. We go to dinner at Kaylee’s favorite restaurant, Friendly’s. I think my son looks forward to Kaylee’s birthday just as much as his own! Her anniversary is a bit more somber. I allow myself that one day to sit in her room and look through all her photo albums and memory box, given to us from the nurses who took care of her in the hospital. We go to the cemetery, reflect, and remember the little girl who brought us so much joy. Joy we once thought we would never experience again.
Kaylee will be gone 17 years…a lot longer than she was here, which bothers me, but I choose not to dwell on the negative but rather what losing her has taught me. It has made me stronger than I ever thought was possible. I no longer worry about the small stuff. If I can survive losing my child, I can get through any challenge in this life. I know the importance of being at all of my son’s school functions, sporting events, and driving him to endless practices. I never had the chance to do those things for Kaylee.
Ladybugs have become my sign for my daughter. When I see one, I know in my heart she is near and always with me. Kaylee is still a part of our family. We used her savings bonds to buy our son a dog…a gift from his sister. He named the dog Kacey after Kaylee’s initials (KC). My son wears the number 2 on his jersey for his sister because she was 2 when she died…. something he decided all on his own when he was young and first started playing sports. I share my story and my journey with other newly bereaved parents with the intention of providing some hope. Hope was all I had 17 years ago. It is possible to smile and laugh and find joy again even when it seems so far out of reach.
I remember hearing at a bereavement group early on in our grief journey “time will soften the pain.” I didn’t believe it all those years ago, but I know it to be true now. Of course, I still have those days when the pain sneaks up on me and I think about all I have lost, all the memories and milestones I have been cheated out of. During those days I want to stay in bed and cry all day, but I don’t. Instead, I think about how I was blessed to have been given my daughter, even though it was only for a short time. I wouldn’t trade those 28 months I had with her for anything. The grief and pain of losing a child will always be with us but it won’t always be so sharp.
As time moves on, we move forward. We learn how to honor and remember our child. As a bereaved parent it’s our job to keep our child’s memory alive. The best way we can honor our children is to learn to go on living while we keep them safely tucked within our hearts.
Use the chapter locator to find out information about chapters in your area. Locate a Chapter by selecting your state and zip code.
