Capture Your Grief : Day 11 // Supportive friends & family

When you lose someone, the support of friends and family is crucial. I've needed to lean on others so many times. I can't imagine not having anyone there for me through the hardest time in my life. The strongest pillars have been my husband and my mother.

I've been so blessed with a sweet, sensitive husband. I've heard of so many women who struggle with having apathetic husbands who only grieved for a short period of time or not even at all. But Daniel connected with Avery long before she arrived, both of us loving our first baby together even before she was conceived. He's been my other half in this. The one so deeply affected just the same as I have been. He's been by my side completely. And he still is.

My mom and I share such a special friendship. We always have. Our friendship has grown over the years and I have become a wife and a mother just like she is. It's safe to say that she is my best friend. I love our times together. We can be so real with each other. She knows me so well and she lets me share whatever is in my heart. She feels what I feel most of the time, hurting for me and with me through these grueling trials of struggling to build my family. I don't know what I would do without her. I'm so grateful to have her as my mother. I love the way she loves both of her grandchildren. I don't ever have to wonder if she does.

There have been a few others who have never let me down. There have been some who have. I guess it just happens. The support and the love has meant everything to me. It's made all the difference in the world.

Capture Your Grief : Day 10 // Symbol

There is one special symbol that has always reminded me of Avery. That is the butterfly. I have come to find that it's a very popular symbol among the babyloss community. It signifies transformation and flight. Delicate beauty. While these things apply to Avery, they're not the initial reason that butterflies are significant to me when it comes to my daughter.

This light green piece of paper with a pretty black butterfly printed on it was taped to the door of my hospital room while I was in labor with Avery. They do that to signify a loss so all the nurses taking care of that patient are awake of the situation before they even walk into the room. I appreciated that there was never a need for a nurse to pop in all cheery and excited and for me to explain the horrific reality to her. They all just knew to enter the room with extra tenderness. Nurses that weren't even assigned to my room would come in and share their grief with me, telling me of when the same thing happened to them. It helped so much to know that I wasn't alone so early on. I guess this butterfly invited those women to share their hearts with me and show me it was possible to heal one day.

I'm not even sure how or why I thought to have Daniel grab the butterfly off the door before we left the hospital. For all I know, it could have been Daniel's idea. I had barely known it was there. But for some reason, it seemed significant. And I was still grasping for any shred of evidence that the day happened. That my daughter came into the world. Since I couldn't take her with me, I guess I needed every possible souvenir or memento I could find.

When it came time to choose the design on Avery's stone, all we knew was that we wanted butterflies. There was a definite lack of choices for children's stones, so if I'd had more time or more of a selection, I would have chosen something different overall. But I do not regret the butterflies. They are still something that always make me think of my girl.

Capture Your Grief : Day 9 // A special place

On day 5, I spoke of Avery's resting place and what a comfort it has been to us since losing her. In the early days, we would go to the cemetery so often and found so much peace there.

Yes, it's extremely heart wrenching to stand over your child's grave and read her name etched in the cold granite. But there has always been some solace in that grassy, tree-covered place.

Decorating Avery's spot has always been therapeutic to us. With each season or holiday comes new little things we can do for her. It makes us feel like we can share our life with her... at least a little.

Capture Your Grief : Day 8 // Jewelry

The day of Avery's funeral, my Aunt Eileen gave me a toggle heart bracelet with Avery's name engraved on it. I think I would have chosen that one if it hadn't been stolen during a yard sale we had over a year ago.

But this beautiful tree of life locket you see above is very special to me. When I saw today's topic, this necklace came to mind. I've been wearing it every day for over two years now. I actually won it from Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope by submitting my story when they were just starting out. I think it's the only time I've ever won anything and it couldn't be more perfect. (Thank you, Kristin!) It's from the Etsy store, BirdzNbeez. (She makes such beautiful pieces. Check her out!)

Trees and birds are significant to me. The little bedding set I had wanted for Avery had a tree and birds on it. That probably would have been her bedroom theme. There's a beautiful sycamore tree in the cemetery that shades the baby garden where Avery rests.

So often, even strangers notice my locket and comment on it. It is very well loved, becoming tarnished and scratched. It's been repaired a few times after Jude's little hands just couldn't help themselves. This locket will always remind me of Avery and those early days of learning to live this new life.

Capture Your Grief : Day 7 // What to say

When it all comes down to it, one could never go wrong with "I'm sorry." There's no need to ever attempt minimizing the pain or explaining it away. No one can do that. Words cannot fix what is broken, what is lost.

I'm praying for you.

I think of Avery often.

I wish she was here.

I could never forget her.

Just these seemingly small statements mean the world to me. Hearing that Avery is remembered and that she is significant brings such comfort to my soul. A mother never wants her child to leave no legacy, no mark, no memory. Knowing she is still important to some helps to soften the blow of her absence, if only for a moment.