Death is Cold

I barely remember the funeral. I remember there were so many people. I remember an endless amount of hugs. I remember being numb. I remember tucking her in with her purple minky blanket for the last time, so that she wouldn't be cold. Other than that it's all a blur. I know the graveside was hard. I had to leave my baby out in the cold. That hurts me. It is so cold. I'm supposed to keep her safe and warm. When they were rushing her to the helicopter I remember trying to scream about how cold it was and that she wasn't covered up. I know it didn't really matter, but it was so cold. I couldn't get the words out. I tried. But I was in shock. I think they covered her bottom half up when we got to Primary's. That was kind.

Somedays when I go to the grave I don't have much of a connection to the spot. Other days I do. We went to the grave the day after the funeral and I didn't feel anything. Then I didn't go back for a few days. It was so cold. I hate that it is so cold. I hate that she is so cold. Would it be easier if it was summer? No. It wouldn't. But, at least it wouldn't be so cold. When I held her after the doctors stopped, I was shocked by how cold she felt. She was freezing. Her little lips were so blue. Her little face was so bruised. She was so cold, I just wanted to wrap her up and make her warm again. 

Everything about death is cold. I feel cold all the time. I shake all the time. When I kissed her at the viewing she felt like an ice cube. Vi ran hot. She had so much fat on her little body, she was so warm all the time. Her little head was so sweaty at night, she would leave a big wet spot. She radiated warmth. She was the warmest little soul. She made everyone happy. I'm not saying this because she died. It isn't a figment of my imagination. This isn't my way of coping. Violet was special. Ask anyone who ever met her. She made you feel warm inside. She made you happy. She radiated warmth. I hate that she is so cold now. 

I went to the grave yesterday to clean up flowers with my sisters and our friend Ish. After we cleaned up all the old dead flowers and walked back, there was a honey bee on the fresh flowers I had put down on Valentine's day. A honey bee. It's too cold for a honey bee. It has been years since I've even seen a real life honey bee. This honey bee flew around us, and then would go back to the flowers. It stayed the whole time we were there. There were other fresh flowers in the graveyard. Really fresh flowers. But, this honey bee stayed right with us. Was that you Vi? Were you telling me that you are ok? That you aren't cold? That you are still with me? I felt warm when I left. Thank you for that baby girl. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are warm.

I started that earlier today. I'm sitting here holding her blanket. Lyvi is asleep in my bed. I can't let her sleep anywhere but right next to me. I worked so hard to get her back in her own room when I was pregnant with Vi. All of that has gone out the window now. But, does that really matter? No. When you watch your beautiful perfect baby die, sleeping arrangements seem trivial. EVERYTHING seems trivial. Your husband lost his job? Oh well, at least you still have all your kids. Your neighbor is being loud? Oh well, at least you didn't have the most perfect thing you have ever seen in your life violently ripped away from you with no warning. You hate your job? Get over it. Go kiss your kids. Hug them. Cherish them. You have a headache? At least you can breath. At least every breath you take doesn't cause you severe pain. At least your lungs aren't filling up with your own blood. Now take that, and imagine it is your child. Imagine the worst thing you can think of happening to your baby, now times that by a million. A trillion. There is no number to explain it. To explain watching the life leave your child. The baby that you wanted so bad. The baby you always knew you were meant to have. The baby you made from scratch. The baby that completed you. Your perfect, beautiful, amazing, sweet little baby. 

My baby is gone. I will never get her back. That just doesn't make sense. My mind cannot handle that. It plays tricks on me. This can't be real. There is no way that this is my life. Did I make Violet up? Did I dream the last 5 1/2 months? Am I actually stuck in a hospital somewhere, in a coma? Stuck inside the worst nightmare you could ever imagine? And, she is really alive and happy and healthy? Please let that be true. PLEASE. I wish so much that I got the stupid fucking flu. Why couldn't it take me? Why did it have to attack my baby, and get such a strong grip on her that there was no possible way to save her? I just want her back. So much. This has to be a movie. There must be hidden cameras all around me, recording me. Documenting what a mother goes through when they lose the most precious thing in the world. Just give her back to me. Give her back. How could she be here one second, and then the next she is gone? How is that even possible? The world is so much worse without my Violetta Villalobos. She would have done so much. She was so amazing. She should be here. Its not fair. This isn't a pity party for me. Who gives a shit what I'm going through. Its not fair that she didn't even get a chance! She didn't get a chance to do anything! She could have done so much. And now no one will ever know what she would have accomplished. She didn't even get a chance. I'm so mad for her. Its just not fair. I try so hard not to let the anger consume me. There isn't enough left of me, if I let the anger in I will be gone. There will be nothing left. I can't do that to Lyvi. Or to Rich. They lost her too, they can't lose me. I have to stay present, I have to face this shitstorm head on so that it doesn't consume me. I know I will need some help. I will need to talk to a professional about what I saw. Its not a normal thing to see. I already have some anxiety issues from it, but that's obvious. Of course I do. I hope to get through this without needing to take any medication, I don't want to numb it. I need to feel it now. I need to feel the hurt. The agony. The gaping hole that was my heart. 

Baby girl. I wish so much you were here. I would kiss your fat little face and tell you I'm going to eat you for breakfast, and for lunch, and still have a snack for later because you are so fat!!! I would kiss your sweet little nose. I would run my fingers over your sleepy eyes while you tried so hard not to fall asleep. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry you suffered so much. I wish I could take your place. I would take your place. Thank you for the honey bee. Please keep sending me signs. I can't keep going if you don't send me signs that you are ok. It will never fill the hole, but it helps to feel you still with me. I went up to the hospital to give all the nurses a card and a Violet keychain. They tried so hard to keep you here. I needed to make sure they knew that I don't blame them. The beads we got for the keychain were called "UltraViolet." That was you again. I love you so much sweetie pie. I miss you with every cell of my body. I hope you are warm.