Author: diannahkillian

I found myself staring at my girls all day today. Dreaming of how it would be to have all three of them together. I know it’s an impossibility and that breaks me. ⁣⁣
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𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵. ⁣⁣
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There are no balloons to blow up.⁣⁣
No cake to be smashed. ⁣⁣
No family pictures to be taken.⁣⁣
No special breakfast to share.⁣⁣
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No 𝘰𝘯𝘦-𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳-𝘰𝘭𝘥 to hold and smother with kisses as we gush over our first year together. ⁣⁣
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In reality, there isn’t even a birthday to celebrate because our precious baby was never born. 💔 All I have is the memory of her heartbeat, the time we shared as one when she was growing inside of me, a few ultrasound photos, and today- her due date. ⁣⁣
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September 13th. ⁣⁣
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We remember her and honor her and celebrate her. Today and everyday, I imagine what she’d be like.⁣⁣
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𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘸? 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘦 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘴𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘴? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘵𝘦𝘦𝘵𝘩 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘯𝘨? 𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘥 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘭𝘦𝘱𝘵? ⁣⁣
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I am so grateful to have my daughters here with me but I’ll never understand why things happen the way they do. I do know that I have 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 precious baby girls and I’ll spend my whole life aching to hold my heart in Heaven. ⁣⁣
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𝘖𝘯𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘥𝘢𝘺. ♥️⁣

𝐅𝐞𝐚𝐫 is a funny thing. I don’t even think we realize how driven we are by it. We say no to things without even considering our options because our mind is trained to protect us. NO is safe. NEW can be scary.⁣⁣⁣
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Over the past couple years, I’ve opened my mind to so much. I’ve been outside of my comfort zone more than I ever imagined. And, when I fail, I know it is because I am standing in my own way. I think that’s so cool. Sure, life happens and I can’t control everything. But, I control ME- my decisions, how I choose to spend my time, what relationships I invest in, and how I see myself.⁣⁣⁣
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It’s a learning process to relinquish self-doubt and let go of limiting beliefs. I truly believe that self-confidence is a muscle that we have to actively build.⁣⁣⁣
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So…⁣⁣⁣
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❤ Don’t create limitations⁣⁣⁣
❤ Trust who you are⁣⁣⁣
❤ Surround yourself with positivity⁣⁣⁣
❤ Step outside your comfort zone⁣⁣⁣
❤ FEEL the fear! ⁣
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Tell me, is this something you need to work on?? ✌️

𝘔𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘢𝘺-𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘶𝘦𝘴𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 🤪⁣
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Here are my tips for getting your life together when you’d rather be on the lake. (It me.) ☀️ ⁣
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1. Drink all the water. Like… ALL the water. One gallon minimum. Trust me. ⁣
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2. Put things away. If you leave your camp gear and dirty clothes and cooler and blankets and floaties (and on and on and on bc #babies), you’ll be tripping over it and you’ll feel frazzled and overwhelmed. Enjoy your coffee (and maybe some worship music 💙) and then spend some time organizing. ⁣
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3. Move your body. Sweat. For at least 30 minutes. Sweat out all the chips and alcohol and whatever else you enjoyed. ⁣
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   There you go! You won’t want to do any of these things and you might hate it all as you do it. But when you’re done… you’ll feel SO RELIEVED. Anything else you’d add to my list?? ⁣
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   Mmmmk. Get it, mama. ✌️

Mother’s Day. This day has looked different to me every single year. On this day, I’ve felt grateful, resentful, hopeful, joyous, confused, anxious, elated, and a million other things. But one feeling has never diminished: Loved.

I spent my first 25 years simply loving on my mom on this day. I’ve always been immensely grateful to be her daughter. I saw her struggle over the years with personal battles, but her love for her children never faltered. She always let me know that I was her best friend. I miss talking to her on the phone for hours, sitting on her couch drinking coffee, and belly laughing with her over the little things. I sure wish she could be here today.

The next couple years were a little tricky for me. While I still celebrated my mom on this day, I became a wife and I felt a lot of pressure to be a mom when I knew I wasn’t ready. At the time, I was part of a religion that focuses on family. I felt resentment over time because the culture promotes early motherhood and I simply didn’t want to be a mom.

What came next was many years of heartache. This day became hollow for me after I lost my mom AND couldn’t get pregnant after years of trying. I’d cry over negative pregnancy tests and cry some more because I couldn’t hug my mom.

And then, it happened. I experienced my first Mother’s Day as a pregnant woman and I felt immeasurable love. Lydia was growing in my belly and we were connected from the moment I knew she was a part of me.

The next couple years were confusing. I felt overjoyed to have Lydia in my life, but my heart ached for another baby.

And then last year happened. It had only been two short months since I miscarried my sweet girl and I woke up that morning feeling broken. I knew I had to pull myself together and get out of bed to spend the day with Lydia, but I couldn’t help but feel devastated that my girl (and my mom) weren’t with us.

And then, my life changed again. Something told me to take a pregnancy test. This was insane. I had only become pregnant with Lydia and my baby girl in heaven after months of fertility treatments. But then… that little + showed up on my stick and I literally collapsed to the floor.

This picture was taken on that day. Mother’s Day 2020. I remember looking out over the water, as I held Lydia in my arms, Sonia in my belly, and my baby girl and sweet mom in my heart. I sobbed and sobbed and prayed and prayed.

This year, I woke up feeling a little less broken. Even though there are still two holes in my heart, I have two girls in my arms.

On this day, I’ve felt grateful, resentful, hopeful, joyous, confused, anxious, elated, and a million other things. But one feeling has never diminished: Loved.

Grateful. Resentful. Hopeful. Joyous. Confused. Anxious. Elated.

Loved.

Because through it all, I had the love of my Savior holding my heart and carrying me when I couldn’t walk on my own.

Today, I’m praying for all of those who feel the heartache a little extra today. Loss. Infertility. Miscarriage. Divorce. Failed adoptions. Grief. I see you. I pray for you- not for answers or understanding- just for a morsel of peace THROUGH His love.

I play this song over and over again… Especially when my heart feels a little too heavy to hold.

Just Be Held

Lift your hands, lift your eyes
In the storm is where you’ll find Me.
And where you are, I’ll hold your heart.
Come to Me, find your rest,
In the arms of the God who won’t let go.

Happy Mother’s Day, mama. ♥️

Yesterday marked one year since we found out our baby no longer had a heartbeat and today is one year since the D&C procedure- the start of the hardest days of my life. I tried to write it all down each night, but as you can see from my journal, I couldn’t continue. It would be months until I crawled out of the earth shattering, utterly debilitating heartache I felt with every passing moment. On top of that, I was crippled with fear after finding out I was pregnant with Sonia.

And even though I am beyond grateful for and in love with Sonia, I grieve my baby girl in heaven every single day. I’ll never not talk about her because she will always be a part of me. ⁣
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Truthfully, I’m not certain I’m ready to share this because I’m never ready for the responses I receive when I talk about loss. And, of course, it’s painful to write about, but it’s important for me to share my story with the world because my girl matters and because I know so many mothers out there are as broken as I am and need to hear that they aren’t alone and that the pain isn’t temporary and that that’s okay. ♥️

As you can see, I couldn’t bring myself to write the day we found out we lost her. And then, it became too much to write about after a few days. I sat down to try again and again… until I stopped trying.

Day 1

Day 2
I woke up this morning after hardly sleeping last night. Today is the last day I’ll be pregnant with my sweet girl. I hold onto her in my belly as often as possible, knowing it’s the only way I’ll ever hold her and knowing she’ll be gone by the afternoon.

I made my way downstairs to spend some time with Cody and Lydia and I was happy to see Lydia felt comfortable with Megan, my best friend who came to take care of her during the procedure. Lydia had never been without either me or Cody and it broke my heart to have to leave her. Megan took her to gymnastics and Lydia did really well. This made me feel comfortable enough to leave them together so Cody could take me to the hospital.

I wrote a letter to Lydia before I left. You know, just in case something went wrong during the procedure. I know how hard it is to miss your mom and the thought of her feeling that pain for her whole life breaks me. So I wanted her to have something that she could read over and over reminding her how loved she is. When I was done, I didn’t feel finished. So I wrote a letter to my second daughter, knowing all too well she’d never read it. But I want her to know how loved she is, too.

I felt like Cody had to drag me into the hospital. I knew that in a few hours, I’d have to leave my baby there. It was unbearable. I checked in and changed into a gown and a hair net. They put a bracelet around my wrist and the thought crossed my mind that it would be the only piece of the experience that I’d bring home with me. Moments later, my doctor came in to see if I had any questions. I had just one.

Are we sure she’s gone?

I know this was an insane question, but I hadn’t had any cramps or bleeding and I still felt pregnant. And it was my job to protect my baby. The look in my doctor’s eyes was nothing short of despair.

One thousand and ten percent sure. Your body just hasn’t recognized the loss yet.

After awhile, a nurse came in to check on me and she apologized for my loss. She then started telling me about her friend who was pregnant at the same time she was who lost her baby like I had. It was all incredibly cavalier. After finishing her story, she asked if I was going to have more children.

You’re only 34. You’re young. You have plenty of time to have more children.

I really didn’t know what to say. Yes, I want more children. But if I’m fortunate enough to have them, they won’t bring back this baby. My baby girl. I’ll never hold her. I’ll never look into her eyes or hear her sweet voice. I have to spend my whole life on this earth without her. That pain will never go away.

I remember feeling very overwhelmed as they wheeled me into the operating room. It was enormous and I felt so very small. The last thing I remember before the anesthesia kicked in was the nurse asking my name and birthday. Then she made me tell her why I was there.

So you can take my baby from me.

I woke up in hysterics. I couldn’t open my eyes for quite some time. I kept asking Cody if I could hold her. I could feel the pain in his answer but I asked again and again. I needed to hold her. To bring her home. Even though she was my daughter, my baby, she wasn’t even big enough to hold… not even to say goodbye.

I cried harder than ever as we pulled away from the hospital because I was leaving her there. Alone. I asked my doctor what would happen to her and she said she’d be sent to pathology and then to the incinerator.

And then you just throw her away?

Yes.

I tried to spend some time with Lydia when I returned home, but I didn’t want her to see me cry nonstop. So, I went upstairs and crawled into bed. I had some pain but didn’t want to take pain meds…just in case they might hurt the baby. I know how crazy that sounds.

Cody brought Lydia in to say goodnight and she was very interested in my bracelet. She wanted me to take it off and give it to her, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t ready to lose it. I hugged her tighter than ever and kissed her goodnight. Then I laid there for many, many hours until my eyes were almost swollen shut from crying. Cody brought me a pain pill and I gave in. I slept all night.

Day 3
I’ve been lying in bed all day today. I have to pee often- just like when I was pregnant- but I’ve been holding it in until its too painful to wait any longer. You see, this morning there was what my doctor called tissue in my toilet. The first thing I saw when I woke up was a piece of my baby. In the toilet. And it shattered me. So, here I am- lying in bed- crying every time I have to go.

Cody said I received some beautiful flowers from a friend today. I haven’t been downstairs to see them. My mother-in-law left a voicemail asking if we know what we’re having. She doesn’t know that we aren’t having a baby anymore. I had her already. Now she’s gone.

My phone is full of messages from my closest friends checking in on me, but I don’t want to respond because my honest answer of how I’m feeling would crush them.

I keep waiting for the pregnancy heartburn to go away. It’s the last of the lingering pregnancy symptoms and I’ll cry once I don’t feel it any more.

I showered today and it ruined the writing on my bracelet. I sobbed as I cut it off my wrist.

The tissue. The bracelet. It’s all gone now.

I can’t breathe.
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After spending all day in bed, I forced myself downstairs to have dinner with Lydia. Her giggles fill me back up and I feel alive for the first time today. My sweet girl. One of my sweet girls. The only one I’ll ever hold.

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We told Cody’s family today. My sister-in-law texted and my mother-in-law called, both excitedly curious to know what we are having. I asked Cody many times to call his parents, but he couldn’t. I texted my sister-in-law.

It was a girl. We lost her yesterday.

She told Cody’s parents for us and they immediately called and left a voicemail. I listened to it three times as I fell to the floor crying. The pain in my father-in-law’s voice was tangible. I was so sad for them and for their loss. And I wished, more than anything, that I could hear me daddy’s voice in that moment. I was still crying when Cody came downstairs. I told him and he said it was too hard to tell people because each conversation felt like he was losing her all over again.

I crawled back into bed.

Day 4

Day 5

Day 9

… I can’t.

2021 New Year’s Resolution: I will not say a single negative word about my body. ⁣
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I remember what it feels like to be postpartum. The high of that pregnancy glow is gone and you are left exhausted, anxious, and insecure. ⁣
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As soon as the baby is born, a woman’s body becomes uninhabited. It no longer matters that it is responsible for the incredible miracle of life. The adorable GIANT belly is gone and has been replaced with loose skin, extra fat, and stretch marks. And society tells us that those things should go away immediately. ⁣
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And so, we commit to losing that baby weight… to getting our bodies “back.” And every day that we don’t bounce back, negative thoughts take over our minds and we begin to hate our bodies.⁣ eventually, that turns into self loathing, self-destruction, and self-sabotage.
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As I type this out, I realize how ridiculous this is. Of course, it is easier to know that than to actually believe it to be true.⁣
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So, I am holding myself accountable to not speak a single negative word about my body this year… hopefully ever. For me… and for my girls. Because how cool would it be if they grow up feeling completely detached from the societal expectations of body image? How freeing would it be for them to see their body as it is…instead of how they’re told it should be? I wish I’d been taught that… but I’m learning now. ♥️⁣
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Will you commit with me?? ⁣