About Me

My photo
My second child and our first daughter, Camille, died and was born on June, 30 2011 when I was full term at 38 weeks pregnant. I gave birth to my rainbow baby, a second daughter, on August 31, 2012. This is me trying to figure out how to be a mother to my living son and daughter and function in society after our tragic loss.

Saturday, October 29, 2011

Show Me Your Penis

It was one of those fantastic days. We woke up and went for a walk as a family down on the beach. We walked to the lighthouse, let the waves chase us, watched Kai chase seaguls and then did family meditation on the sand and talked about all we were grateful for: eachother, the sun, the sand and ocean. Kai even added that he was NOT grateful for the pokey sticks that hurt his feet while walking on the sand which I thought was pretty darn cute.

We went home and made kale chips and smoothies and we did some water color painting and blew bubbles, then I put little down for his nap. Daryl left to go hang out with a friend for a couple hours. He never does this and so I am always very supportive of him spending time with friends. After he returned we headed off to FallCreek (where I grew up) to go hiking in the redwoods. On our way to the forest Daryl told me that while he was driving home from hanging out with his friend he wanted to switch lanes; there was a black car approaching and so he was waiting for them to pass, only they didn't pass him, they just drove next to him. He looked over and it was a car full of highschool aged girls holding up a sign that read: "Show Me Your Penis". Daryl said, "Can you imagine if that was your daughter, driving around holding up a sign saying "show me your penis"? I started to cry, my heart caught in my throat...my daughter will never be able to do anything that stupid and adolescent because SHE'S DEAD. Then I started laughing because I was crying that my daughter would never be able to hold up a sign that read "Show me your penis"..that sounds silly...I know, that is why I was laughing. BUT, I think you get what I mean here. I was not crying about the sign, it is all the things she will never be able to do, see, learn, experience...and my husband said "can you imagine if that was your daughter" Oh those words just pierced my heart. I imagine my daughter being alive ALL THE TIME. Not one of those imaginings included that sign- haha -but I am sure she would end up doing some dumb shit thing or another and we would have to talk it through and hope she made better choices in the future. Damn...I wish we got the opportunity to go through all of it. Stupid girls!

We had a really lovely time in the forest. It was my backyard stomping grounds and the air smells so good. Ferns and redwoods growing along a creek. Autumn leaves falling onto the forest floor, Kai talking about wanting to build a forest house out of ferns. We did some walking meditation and discussed how peaceful and full of love we felt in the forest. We said thank you to the forest for growing beautiful things for us to look at and making the air clean for us to breathe. Walking across logs and finding mushrooms. This is the childhood I had. I love watching my son thrive in the surroundings that helped mold who I have become.


I wish our amazing day at the beach and walking in the forest was not tainted with the missing of Camille. I wish she was in my ergo kicking her little feet along the walk with us. I feel like the sweetest of days have just this side note of bitterness. I try and be present, fully present for my son, my husband, myself, BUT how can I COMPLETELY enjoy when a piece of my heart is constantly longing. A piece of my mind is always wondering and wishing. My whole heart WISHING. Do we ever stop wishing? Will I ever be able to be fully present, completely enjoy something? And now in 30 minutes it will be 4 months of wishing it was different. Wishing my daughter hadn't died. How could this have happened? It just breaks my heart over and over again.


  1. This is so beautiful and moving, both in writing and in pictures. I can almost feel you crying and laughing as you think about Camille holding up a ridiculous sign. Those kind of moments barrel us over from time to time too.

    I don't know when we stop wishing Renel. Some days, after seven months out, I still feel like I'm in a state of shock, as if I'm realizing for the first time again. Is she really fucking dead? Other days, I carry the grief and her with me in every breath that I take, but it's a little more comfortable as time goes on. Like I know how to live with a broken heart, or at least I'm slowly figuring it out.

    Anyway, I thought this was a really moving piece. Your boy is an animated little tike!

    Peace and gentleness to you as you cross over four months.

  2. What a great mom you are!! What a lovely day to look back on and show Kai one day. I know what u mean tho. Every great day still has that looming sadness. I wish i could tell you it goes away. But 14+ months out, it goes with me every where. And i cry over stupid stuff like that too, all the time. This is such a hard road.

  3. Scott and I constantly talk about stupid stuff Jack would definitely have done. And in truth I miss that, even though I miss so many other things which would have been lovely and positive. Doing dumb things is a part of growing up, and I'm so sorry Camille will never get to do those things (save the penis part, ha).

    I hope the four month anniversary is kind to you.

    Ps. I am yet to stop wishing.

  4. How could this have happened? I ask every day. Sometimes, out loud. Sometimes, I scream it. Sometimes, I scream-sob it. I am shocked I haven't been taken to the loony bin yet. I still don't know. I can't answer that for you.
    I think that four months out, having found your smile, even if it is tinged with bitterness, is pretty impressive. Don't be so hard on yourself. You CAN'T be fully present right now. And if anybody doesn't get that? Well they can go shove it. You are grieving, and it's WORK. xoxo Btw love kale chips! ~Lindsay

  5. Those pictures and Kai are beautiful. And I completely get your reaction to the penis sign. Mercy. I feel the same way about everything fom temper tantrums to preteen drama... I would welcome all the bad stuff along with the good, if I just had my girl here. I know we'll always long for our babies, but I hope as time goes by it becomes more wistful and less like a huge gaping wound. I can promise you that time helps, because 11 months out is easier than 4 months out was. I miss her just as much, but it doesn't feel like that loss taints everything in my life all the time. It's always sad, but sometimes it's bittersweet.

  6. Hi, I was just feeling some of these same emotions (almost 6 months since my daughter died) and was trying to put them into words on my blog, then I came here and you've done it so eloquently. Thanks for sharing, and I'm impressed with everything you did in one day!

  7. What beautiful places you visited - and your boy Kai is gorgeous. 4 months is still a raw, hard place to be so be gentle with yourself.

  8. What a lovely day! Isn't CA the best? :) Beautiful pictures, too, and possibly the best title ever.

    I feel more at peace with this idea as the months go by: everything from here on, no matter how good it is, is missing Elizabeth and is therefore second-best. But it's my only option, and sometimes there's still a lot of happy to be found.

    Hugs to you at the four-month mark.

  9. 4 months...seems like 4 minutes ago! These pictures are so darling of Kai, im sorry Camille isn't in them with you! Its funny what people say can have such an affect on us. My new neighbor is a pro bike rider and im just getting into it and she said to me "oh ever sense we had our baby she takes away all the things we liked to do" I wanted to say to her oh ya well i'll never get to do anything with my daughter cause, well, shes dead!!
    I guess like SG said there's still alot of happt to be found! I hope you find some today! xoxoxo

  10. I love you pictures. Kai is such a little cutie.
    I'm up here in the redwoods too. So we are close in grief and close in distance.
    I'm thinking of you today. sending hugs. xo

  11. Love your photos and so great that you could all spend time together on the beach and in such gorgeous places. I know how you feel about all the thoughts of things our little girls will never be able to do... hopefully pain will ease into little moments of peace... and then more presence. I crave being present to watch is going on in the moment.. but know it will come one day. Love to you always xoxo

  12. Yes, this is such a beautiful post. And one I can relate to. I remember when we were going through a couple's yoga class when Lucy was in utero and my husband talking about how he would have a sixteen and fifteen year old at some point, so he was preparing by taking yoga now. It breaks me again. It breaks my heart to not have an argument with Lucia. That sounds ridiculous, but it is true.

    Sending love. xo

  13. Beautiful pictures. Sounds like a lovely time--but I do get the missing. The happy times are always tainted, at least a little, with the wishing and the missing and the longing.

    When people talk about their young girls, and how they're gearing up for the teen years, it gets me. What I'd give for an outfit argument.

    Love to you, friend.

  14. I miss it all too - the good, the bad and the ugly... Granted, I spend most of my time wishing I could see him on his birthdays, or at Christmas, or listening to stories, or playing with Daddy, but, I also wanted to see his little angry pout, or stamping his feet when he was feeling angry - his door slamming, his wailing, his crying... I wanted it all... yes, including the difficult teenager years...

  15. love your pictures, love your story, just don't love that your girl isn't here with you :( I totally understand something so silly and yet so meaningful.

  16. This comment has been removed by the author.

  17. I love the pics the forest is beautiful. I wish your little girl was there to share it with you. I agree with Josh, its been 7 months for me and I havent stopped wishing


I would love to hear what is on your mind