I hate my new norm and other random morbid thoughts

I think I'm forgetting her. Not forgetting like I am going to forget that she existed. But, forgetting how it felt to hold her, nurse her, kiss her, her smell, the little things that were so Violet. It's been almost 3 months since we lost her. She has been gone more than half the time she was here. Does that wording make sense? You know what I mean. 3 months without her is unimaginable. I really feel like I'm forgetting her. I watch videos of her and I can't believe that she was ever mine. I watch her and it's almost like I am in some alternate universe. None of this feels real. I have all these videos of this adorable healthy growing baby, MY adorable healthy growing baby, but I don't have her anymore. I can't figure out the words to explain this feeling, this feeling of forgetting. I know I haven't forgotten her, but I have forgotten what it was like to have her. My new norm is just Lyvi again. I hate my new norm. We had Lyvi for a little over 2 years before we had Violet. Then we only had the two of them for 5 months 12 days before it was just Lyvi again. It was hard having 2 kids, really hard. The adjustment period sucked. Lyvi was full force in the "terrible-twos" and Violet was colicky. That first little bit is such a blur. I wish I remembered every single detail of it all. I remember a lot of late nights and early mornings. I remember desperately wanting to be able to make myself some eggs because I was starving (hello ravenous breastfeeding appetite) in the morning but Vi was screaming her head off and Lyvi was whining and crying over some stupid little thing. I remember pacing the floor patting Violet's back for hours trying to get her to burp or fart or something so that she would finally go to sleep for at least a few minutes before she would need to eat again. I remember being so obsessed with Lyvi going to bed at 8 PM every night so that I would have a little bit of time with both of them asleep to play on my phone or watch a show or stare at a wall or eat, before Vi would wake up around 10 to eat. I remember feeling so depleted that I basically told Rich I HAD to have a Moby wrap or I was going to lose the rest of my mind and he would need to put me in the loony bin, so I went on my very first outing with just me and my girls to target to get a Moby and gripe water. (Ironic much that Vi's first and last outing was Target....) Vi loved that Moby wrap and I was able to make myself eggs and Lyvi lunch or clean a little and pace the floor with a screaming baby but not get sore tired arms after a few minutes. I remember very cautiously and carefully trying to sit down on the couch after Vi finally fell asleep in the Moby and sitting there for as long as she slept. It's all such a blur, and it really was a very hard time. But, I loved every second of it and would give anything to go back there. Anything. This being back to one kid thing is infinitely harder than having 2 crazy kids. I would have 100 more kids if it meant I could have Violet back. I am very very irrational. I think things, awful things. Like why did it have to be Violet? If one of my kids had to die why couldn't it be some future kid I don't love and adore yet? I know that is fucking nuts, because if I do have another kid in the future I will love and adore that child and not be able to imagine my life without said imaginary future child. But, I think that all the time. Why did it have to be my Violet. If given the choice between one of your current lovely amazing children whom you love with every piece of your soul dying, or some future fictional made up child who you do not yet love with every piece of your soul dying, you would obviously choose the latter. Obviously. I would honestly rather have Violet here still, get pregnant and have that baby die, then having to watch Violet die and live the rest of my life without her. Honestly. This is the morbid shit that goes through my head all the time. I try not to say a lot of it out loud because I know its terrible. I'm not saying that I want any future child I may or may not have to die. No no no. Please Universe do not kill anymore of my children. Please. But, I am no longer in the realm of fluffy unicorns and popcorn and lollipops. I now realize that if we decide to try and have another child, there is a chance that child could die. Be it a miscarriage, stillbirth, rare genetic issue, heart defect, the fucking flu, childhood cancer, a car accident, a freak accident, being eaten by a bear, drowning in a washer (that shit happens), a dresser falling over onto imaginary future child etc etc etc. Kids die. Every. Single. Day. I live in constant fear that something will happen to Lyvi. I now realize that if we decide we really want to have another kid (which I really really do want to), and all goes well and I give birth to a living breathing healthy child, that I have now put myself out there yet again to possibly be crushed beyond repair. Again. People do lose more than one child. It's not like one of your kids die and you get a free pass against anymore tragedy in your life. That's not how this thing we call life works. Life is cruel and awful and short. Sometimes way too short. Sure, life has it's good parts. Like actually being able to live and love and experience. But, it can also take all of that away in the blink of an eye. One second you can be here and the next you aren't. Life is realllll fucking shitty sometimes. 

 So, that's where my head's at. I bet you're glad you aren't me right about now, huh. So, in short, having one kid is infinitely more difficult than having two, and I am very aware that if we have another child it may die. Also, if given the choice I would take Violet over a future imaginary child any day. Hands down. But, that is not an option. So, I would like to have another child and cross all my fingers and toes and anything else that can cross, that future imaginary child doesn't die. I say some pretty morbid things lately and I'm not going to apologize for it. I get to have sudden random cry attacks at very inopportune times. Like at a bridal shower in front of lots of happy women who don't have any idea why that crazy lady just started bawling and ran to the bathroom at the sight of a cute little baby. Or, in Wendover at a table eating buffet food (while being very very intoxicated) and randomly telling the table of men next to us to get their Flu shots because my baby died of Influenza A. (That one was kinda my fault, but also kind of not. I think I can tell whoever I want about Violet and spout off about how everyone who is over 6 months of age and not immunocompromised needs to get their goddamn flu shot.) So, no. I'm not going to apologize for saying awful morbid things because I'm entitled. I have a get out of jail free card for all social situations. Because my baby died.

I'm bordering on the angry side again my sweet girl. I can't possibly be as sad as I need to be, because I am convinced it would kill me. So, eventually it bubbles over into angerville. I like the Anger better than the mind blowing sadness. At least I can write a ton of gibberish and make awful morbid jokes and tell random people to get a fucking flu shot. The sadness cripples me, whereas the anger keeps me going. I'm just so mad that this happened to you. I watch the videos of you and my brain turns to mush. I just cannot comprehend how you were mine and you were here and I was so insanely in love with you, and then in 20 short hours (longest hours of my life) you were gone. Just like that. Poof. No more Violetta Villalobos. And, it fucking sucks. So much. I miss you so much sweetie pie honey buns. I would give anything to have you back. I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.