Mother’s Day

Mothers day

Mother’s Day was one of the most emotionally taxing days I’ve experienced since losing Zoey.  I don’t know why.  Maybe knowing she was here last year and gone this one.  Maybe the cumulative days of surviving without her here. Of trying to be strong when I really didn’t have the energy.  Maybe just knowing that being her mom is the best part of my life and that I wasn’t able to thank her for giving me that gift.

I don’t take for granted having her for one Mother’s Day.  Last year was amazing.  And it wasn’t because we did anything special or I received presents. Having her here was enough.  I was able to cuddle her, kiss her, tell her that I love her.  Dress her in an “I love mommy” onesie and a skirt her grandma made for her.  I’m incredibly grateful for that day.  I know some don’t get to spend even one Mother’s Day with their sweet babies.

I also do not take for granted that I was able to spend part of the day with both my mother and grandmother.  Two of the strongest, most resilient women out there.  The reason I was able to give myself completely to loving Zoey was because of the model they set for me.  I hope my mood didn’t ruin the day for them because I am so in awe of them and appreciate all the love they’ve given me and all they love they gave Zoey.

I want to thank the friends that reached out to me—the ones that sent cards or texts and showed me their love.  I know many people don’t know what to say.  But these people overcame the fear of saying the wrong thing and tried anyway.  And everything they said was perfect.  Because they remembered me.  And more importantly, they remembered Zoey.  I’ve often heard that people don’t want to “remind me” or “bring it up”.  You are not bringing up anything I haven’t already thought about.  And it heals my broken soul to know others still think of Zoey.  So please, if she ever crosses your mind, don’t hesitate to let me know.

I asked Zoey that morning to let me know she’s there.  And she did.  Our song on the radio.  A penny.  A cardinal.  I know it would be easy to explain these things away.  But I chose not to.  Because I needed them. I needed her. I am still her mother. I will always be her mother.  And it helps me to believe she sent me those cuddles.

Waymire, Dawn 08162014 (18)b



My daughter should be one. We should have been planning a party. Princess themed? Finding Nemo? Would she have been walking? Have a few teeth?

Instead, Joe and I headed to the Florida Keys to celebrate Zoey’s birthday by the water. I needed to be by the ocean.

When we left for the airport on the one year anniversary of my induction, I slipped back to that day. To the nerves. And the excitement. Caught between two worlds. The one where I wanted to keep her safely inside me and the one where I couldn’t wait to see the little face she kept hidden from us during the ultrasounds. Knowing when we left that day that the world would be completely different on the other side.

We thought we’d have an April baby but she held out for May. When the doctor told us she wouldn’t make it through a natural delivery, we didn’t hesitate making the decision to have a c-section. We had not come that far to just let her go without a fighting chance. And Zoey had a flair for the dramatic even then. But when I finally looked into those stunning blue eyes for the first time, the world indeed changed. Life changed. Love changed. I changed.

I miss her with every breath. With every part of me. I have to focus on surviving one birthday at a time. Because if I think about a lifetime without her–year after year–it’s too much. On her 1st birthday I had to just focus on remembering those soft little bunny feet, bright blue eyes and the way she just fit against my chest. Joe & I sat by the water last night, talked about the day she was born and sent our wishes for her into the night sky.

Happy birthday Zoey. I hope you’re eating ice cream with your friends. I hope my dad made you giggle. I hope it’s beautiful where you are. We love you.