5 stupid months

5 months. It's been 5 months. 5 months since I held her. Since I nursed her. Since I saw her smile. Since I saw her bright happy full of life green eyes. Instead of today being just another day in the life of a stay at home mom with 2 girls 2 years apart in age, it's a cruel reminder that I am a stay at home mom of 2 girls 2 years apart in age, but one of them is dead. One of them was violently and pointlessly ripped out of my loving arms. I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it a million more times: I do not understand. I do not understand this. I don't understand why it happened to Violet. I don't understand why it happened to me. I don't understand why I was "chosen" to get this beautiful perfect amazing little fat baby, only to have her ripped away so soon. I don't want anyone's explanation as to why they think this happened. There is no reason good enough to make this ok. Even if there is a reason (which there isn't) it would never be enough to make this ok. My soul will never be at peace with this. I feel betrayed. By what? I don't know. Something. Someone. I feel picked on and bullied and beaten down. I'm not strong. I am not strong enough for this. Yes, I will most likely be ok. I will probably learn how to live a pretty decent life without Violet. But I don't want to. I don't want to do it. I don't want to live a pretty decent life, because Vi never got to. Her 5 months were as good as any baby could hope for. She was loved fiercely and fully. She knew it. But, why only 5 months? How can someone who is loved so completely just die? How could she have just died? Just like that. She died. The first time she ever got sick she died. I mean come the fuck on. Her flu or cold or whatever it was, wasn't even bad. She didn't get a fever. She had a clear runny nose and that stupid tiny insignificant cough. A cough that not even a first time mom would have taken their 5 month old in for. Even if I would have taken her in it wouldn't have mattered. Not even the best doctor in the world could have predicated what was going to happen to her in a few days. But Why. Whyyyy. It's so stupid. She is so loved and so wanted and there are so many people who are awful to their children. Why am I the one whose child dies? No, of course those poor unwanted children don't deserve to die. They deserve to be loved and wanted just like my Violet. The injustice that is this world disgusts me. I am just disgusted. It's a disgusting thing, this. All I want to do right now is throw this computer across the room. And scream. And fall into a heap of my own tears and sorrow. I am so dark and twisty. I can't see the positive very often. I don't want to have hope. I want another child, but it's hard for me to believe that we will have one, and if we do I can't believe that the child won't die. This makes Rich sad and hurt. I try to rein it in for him, but sometimes it slips out. I think it's mostly a defense mechanism. If I say it, and then it happens, maybe it won't hurt as much. So stupid and untrue. Of course it would hurt. Just as much as this I'm sure. It just scares me so much to try to see a happy future. What if it all crashes down again. Could I handle it? Probably. Among the worst things you can imagine happening to your baby happened to my baby. And, I am still here. Still breathing. Still standing. Still living, albeit numbly and clumsily. But, I am still here, so I guess I better try to have a more positive outlook. At some point. That's a goal of mine, but not right now. Right now I am going to be mad and sad and dark and twisty. This just sucks. It is shitty and it sucks so much more than I could ever put into words. 

5 months baby girl. 5 stupid long, yet short, months. 13 more days and you will have been gone longer than you were here. Ugh. I really really hate that. Really. I guess technically for me, I still have another 9 ish months since I carried you for that long. And, lets face it. I was madly in love with you from the first tiny faint positive. So very in love with you. I knew in my heart of hearts you were my feisty girl. I just knew you immediately. I knew your soul and you knew mine. You still know mine and I still know yours. I think you were with me today. Thank you for that. For the tree guy. It was such a weird experience and I'm still not sure what to think of it. I'm having a hard time believing that I'm not reading into it too much, grasping onto any tiny little thing that might mean you are still around me. But, I just know you were there with me in that garden center looking for a tree to plant for you. I found the one. I don't have it yet, but they should be getting more in soon so I will call until they get one in. I really hate this sweetheart. I just hate it. I hate that you aren't here. I hate that I have to even think about planting a tree in your memory. I detest it. All of it. I love you though. I love you. I'm going to go watch stupid mindless TV, maybe my brain will quiet down enough that I can sleep tonight. I love you my fat baby. I miss you so much, my Violetta Villalobos. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

Anxiety is super fun

I really don't like anxiety. I have never been an anxious person. Never experienced true anxiety until January 30th when I took Vi into the ER. Mine manifests in my legs. Is that weird? My legs go numb. I foggily remember my legs being numb constantly for a couple weeks afterwards. I also get that stomach dropping feeling over and over again. It's been getting better and it isn't something that I need to take medicine for. It doesn't make me incapable of doing things. But, it does still happen. Usually it's random. In the car. Sitting on the couch. Doing dishes. Seeing pictures of other babies. But, sometimes there is a very obvious trigger. Today it was paying medical bills that I have been ignoring. Finding a bill that is for 2 things from Primary Children's. CPR/Trauma Assist, for their attempts to bring her back. Just from the roof of the hospital to the ICU. All of maybe 25 minutes. Daily Room Charge, for the room she was in for, oh.. 20 minutes before they pronounced her dead. The room I held her little body and sobbed in, the room our families came to say goodbye in. The room I had to leave her in. Seeing this bill again after they sent it to us a few months ago sent me in a downward spiral. I already paid them, we only had to pay $25. Which is amazing. But I didn't throw the bill away when I paid it.. not sure why? I just don't want to yet. Calling our insurance company to find out again the status on the Life Flight bill... Anxiety. Not over the potential cost. Just because it takes me back to that night. Her crashing moments after the life flight crew walked in. Audrey kneeling down to me in the hallway explaining that my little girl is very very sick, but they are doing everything they can. Audrey looking me straight in the eyes a bit later, as they have my daughter in the hall doing CPR, and saying "Mama, we aren't looking good. I don't know that she is going to survive this." Standing on that cold roof in the arms of a nurse, who I happened to go to high school with (thanks again Justine). It taking so long to get her in the helicopter, all the while they are still doing chest compressions. And, the only thing I could think was "she isn't covered up. If they don't even bother to cover her up...." Riding in the helicopter. It was so loud. So cold. Seeing all the lights of the city pass below us, and seeing the reflection of Audrey continuing compressions on my baby. I really don't like reliving that. But, this bill. Calling about this bill brings it all to the surface. I did however find out that we aren't responsible for a penny of the bill. I don't know why? But, cool. I don't mind not paying anything for a pointless Life Flight. I hold no ill feelings towards the crew, I know they did everything they could and if you want someone with your child when their heart stops, it's that crew. They are truly amazing. But, yeah. Anxiety sucks. It's subsiding now that I got all that out. Now to call the other hospital where we took her to the ER. The last time I called the lady couldn't find Vi's account... even though I called 10 minutes before and they found it with no issue. Sigh.

I miss you sweet girl. So much. I love you. I think about you constantly. Always will. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

I'm not ok.

Things were getting better. I really thought this. I thought I was handling this better and better everyday. I thought I was going to be ok. 

And then the last 2 weeks happened.

I know it hasn't been that long. Not really. It has been 141 days without her, which really is nothing. But it has been 141 days without her. It is something. It is almost 5 months. It is almost as long as she was here. So, I really thought things were on the mend. I know that sounds stupid, of course things aren't ok. Of course I am not better. How stupid of me to think I could start to feel better after such a short amount of time. I think I was just back in that fog of denial. I'm not sure what has set me off. Maybe the move. Maybe the approach to her 10 month birthday. Maybe the approach of the dreadful day when she will have been gone longer than she was here. (I AM DREADING THAT DAY.) I don't know what caused this, well other than the obvious. I just can't shake it. I can't get out of this dark spot. I will think for an hour or two that I have finally gotten myself back to a safe place. Back to a functioning state where I can remember Violet and also behave like a normal person. But, then the facade crumbles again. My breath catches. I have to physically grab my chest because it hurts so much. I cry that loud guttural sob. I try to muffle it so that I don't scare Lyv. If I can't contain it I get her something to do, a TV show, playdoh, toys. And I go to my room, close the door, and sob. I am so on edge. I don't have any patience. It isn't fair to Lyvi. I try so hard to be patient and loving and consistent. I am failing. I failed Violet, and I'm failing Lyvi. I know I shouldn't be so hard on myself. I'm doing my best with the cards I have been dealt. I bet people think that once you lose a child you have all the patience in the world for your living ones. I haven't found that to be true so far. I'm sure it's the grief and shock, but I have no room for anything minimal anymore. I realize that Lyvi is an almost 3 year old, and almost 3 year olds are insane little creatures of destruction and chaos. I adore her and her defiant nature. But, god. Sometimes I just need her to put on the shoes I picked out for her. Or let me do her hair without a huge ordeal. Or eat what I make her for lunch. These are all hard things for an almost 3 year old, I know. But, sometimes I really do not have the space in my head to reason and pick my battles. I feel terrible. I feel like the worst mother in existence. One of my children died, and the other one I have no patience for. Don't get me wrong, we have fun. We play. I adore her, and she knows I love her guts. I try my hardest, even when I am falling off the cliff, to be happy and present for her. But, these last 2 weeks I am failing her. I am failing Violet again by not being the mom I know her and Lyvi deserve. I'm trying. And maybe by writing this I will be more aware of it in the moment. 

I'm more angry these last two weeks. Again. The anger is hard, but almost cathartic. I can throw things. Bang dishes. Slam cupboards. Yell at the unfolded laundry. But, it also hurts. It hurts to be so mad. It hurts to get so pissed off at Rich for something so stupid, and have him not understand why I'm yelling at him for spilled milk. He isn't angry. It's not in his nature to be mad. He's a generally chill guy, and he's a lot more spiritual than me. He has more peace about this whole pile of fuck than I do. Which isn't hard to do since I have zero peace about it. But, yeah. He isn't really mad. Which is fine. I don't get to tell him how to feel. It's hard that he isn't mad though, because then he doesn't understand why I will be fine one minute and a complete disaster the next. It's just hard. All of this. 

So, all of this to say I'm not ok. I don't think I will be for a long long time. I think I'll probably go in and out of these "I'm ok. I'm not ok. I'm ok. I'm not ok" phases. It has only be 141 days, and I'm not ok.

Hi baby girl. I have felt you quite a bit over the last few days. Yesterday in the car I could feel you with me. I knew you'd play a song for me after I visited your grave. I just knew it. And, of course "I will wait" started the second I turned the car on to leave. I know when you are near me. I love it, but I hate it. I hate that the only way I get to feel you is by a song and a feeling. I hate all of this. I just want you back. I miss you so much. My heart breaks more everyday. I see all the babies your age growing and imagine what you would be doing. You were so ahead. I know you would be walking by now. I know you would be feisty and happier than ever because all you ever wanted to do was be on the move. I think you would have a good amount of dark fuzzy hair. I know you wouldn't tolerate a headband anymore. I know you would love the kiddy pool here at our house. And, I know you would be the most perfect amazing chubby happy little girl. It isn't fair. I just want you here. Growing. Learning. Being you. I am such a mess lately. I want to curl up and cry and never stop. I don't know if I can do this. I just don't know. I'm trying. I will keep trying. You don't get to live, so I am going to do my best for as long as I get to. I love you my fat baby. SO much. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Back Online

We have internet. Finally. It wasn't actually as bad as I thought it would be to not have it. I have my phone that I can check my Facebook and Instagram. It was kind of nice being a little disconnected from everything for a minute. Not completely, but a little further away from the world that is madly spinning on. I jotted down a bunch of random thoughts in my phone. I guess the best thing to do is put them all down here. Maybe I will elaborate on some of them. Maybe I won't. I never know what I am going to write until it is written. So, let's see where this goes:

My loss is worse than anyone else's. In my mind. I know that is not true. Everyone's loss is unique and individual. I don't know how they feel. I don't know what it feels like to lose their child. But, they don't know what it feels like to lose Violet. Sweet Fiesty Violet. MY Violet. 

In my mind my loss is the worst. I feel like it is the worst loss. But, I know it isn't. I know there are so many other moms and dads hurting just as much or more than me. I know the loss of their precious child is so much worse to them than my loss of Violet is to me. I don't know if this makes sense to anyone, other than fellow bereaved parents. I know to them it makes sense.

I wish I was a tree. It seems so peaceful. So beautiful. No dead babies. Just roots in the ground and the sun in the sky.

Ha. I thought this for about 5 days, everyday, as I was driving around town. I would look at trees with such envy. It seems ridiculous. Unless you really think about it. Trees seem so wise. So peaceful. 

That moment when you have so much to do but you don't want to do any of it, so you decide to sit down and just cuddle your baby. And, then reality slaps you in the face. So, you do some laundry, unpack some boxes, and cry.

This was a day when I had so much to do. So much to unpack. I didn't want to do any of it, I wanted to sit down and cuddle with Vi. The last time we moved we had Violet. I could procrastinate unpacking because I had this sweet baby who I knew wouldn't stay little forever, ironic huh. I just held her and nursed her for as long as she wanted me to. Maybe because of that memory I forgot for a moment that I don't get to do that anymore. She isn't here. I don't get to procrastinate things because I would rather be cuddling my sweet little baby. I get to cry and be mad and unpack things. 

I wish I was excited about the house. About anything. I don't think I'll ever be excited or truly happy again.

This doesn't need any elaborating.

Everyone is moving on. Moving forward. I'm still stuck. Everyone's babies are growing up, getting teeth, almost walking. Everyone is celebrating their babies. No one is celebrating my baby. Because she is dead. I'm terrified she will be forgotten.

This was a particularly dark day for me. I was so down in the dumps. So sad. There seemed to be an abundance of babies on my newsfeed, probably because I was only checking it every so often. I felt so hopeless. I was so sad. So sure that people are already forgetting her. Then the next morning a friend of mine wrote me on Facebook, just to tell me she thinks about me and Vi everyday, but doesn't know how often to tell me. Maybe other people think about her too, but just don't know how to tell me. Or are afraid to disrupt any sort of peace I have found that day. Let me just say that it doesn't matter if I am not heaving sobbing in the corner, I am not peaceful. I might be functioning, I might even be smiling. But I am not ok. I want, no NEED to know that people are thinking of her. I have never needed anything more desperately in my life. Well, other than her. Obvs.

I don't have room to be happy for other people anymore. Not really.

Self explanatory. I just don't have it in me to congratulate people. Or to be happy with what's happening in their lives. Which I know makes me a terrible scroogy person. Maybe one day I won't be such a pessimist. Doubt it.

I hate the phrase "it's always darkest before the dawn." What dawn? I was fully in the dawn of my life. Now it's dark and scary.

Not much to elaborate here. I don't see there ever being a dawn in my life, not the way it was when we still had Vi at least. Maybe like a martian dawn. Where the sun comes up, but it isn't nearly as vibrant there as it is here on Earth.

I have yet to find one story similar to Vi's. SIDS. Stillborn. Heart defects. Premies. Genetic abnormalities. Etc Etc Etc. This is NOT meant to diminish any of these losses. No no no. They are all tragic. I have just yet to find a story like ours. I want to find a story like ours. Desperately. I feel so alone. 

Yeah. This. If anyone knows of a story like ours. Where the baby is fine. Then starts breathing funny. And dies 20 hours later, I would love to talk to that mom or dad. As I am writing this, it dawns on me that of course I know a story similar to ours. Madeline Spohr. Sweet sweet Maddie. http://thespohrsaremultiplying.com/living-with-loss/#axzz34veYc0n2

Lyvi doesn't have anyone to play with. All these pictures of siblings holding hands. All Lyvi has is ceramic molds of her sister's hands to hold. And I won't even let her hold them because I am terrified she will accidentally break them. It's not like we can just get new molds of Vi's hands. So, I keep them wrapped in bubble wrap in a pretty box on the top shelf of my closet. 

This fact became so much more poignant once we moved. She doesn't have cousins living in the same house to keep her occupied anymore. It's just her. I can just imagine her and Vi playing. Lyvi being a nerd jumping around making Vi giggle. Vi chasing Lyvi around, pulling on her legs, stealing toys. Fighting. Oh I know they would be fighting already. Violet was so damn feisty. Lyvi is super sensitive. They would have been fighting. How weird is it that I want so desperately for my girls to be fighting. I would give anything to be breaking up fights between my toddler and baby right now. Anything.

Bad luck. All around bad luck. MRSA. Such a fluke. Bad luck. Positive Flu test when she didn't even have the flu. So they treated her for the flu. When she didn't have the flu. She had MRSA eating away at her lungs. While they treated her for the flu. God dammit. God fucking dammit. 

This hits me randomly. And it takes me down. Hard. 

I'm afraid to even start thinking about trying to have another baby. I don't want to forget or over shadow Vi. I know nothing and no one could ever replace her. But, I am terrified of dulling the pain and slowly forgetting how amazing she was. I just want her back.

I go back and forth between wanting another baby and being terrified of another baby. This may stem from my current aversion to all babies. I don't want to see other babies. I don't want to know what they are doing. I don't. want. to. see. babies. I know this is terrible. Some of my closest friends have babies. I know it isn't anyone else's babies fault that my baby died. But I am going to be irrational for awhile, and I guess I will take that out on other babies. I don't hate babies. I just don't want to see them. I am really rather scared that if we have another baby I will be sad to see that baby. Because that baby will not be Violet. 

Depths of an almost 3 year olds mind are deeper than we give them credit for. Sometimes, like this morning as I was putting my bra on, something sparks and Lyvi wants to talk about Vi. She watched me putting on my bra and said:
"Baby Vi drink your booboos."
I said "Yes Sweetie, Violet drank milk from me."
"Why mommy?"
"Because that's how babies eat, they drink breastmilk from their mommies."
"Baby Vi never come back." This was a statement, not a question.
"Yes sweet girl, Baby Vi will never come back."
"Why? Why Baby Vi go away?"
"I don't know why baby. She got sick. Too sick. But, I don't know why."
She stared at me for a long time with a sad deep look in her eyes, and then something clicked off and she started singing about eating cereal. 

She talks about Violet so randomly, that I know she must think about her more than we give her credit for. This is so shitty. A toddler should not have to try and stretch the capacity of their growing budding minds to understand the reality and finality of death. Especially the death of her sister. 

There it is. This is where I have been for the last bit. Pretty dark. Nothing positive. It was a really weird dark almost 2 weeks. The moving was/is harder than I expected it would be. We are here, but she isn't. She never will be. I knew that. My head knew that. But, I think maybe my heart doesn't. My heart still expects her to come back someday. 

Oh Violet. I don't even know what to say here. You know what I am feeling. So many feelings, but I can't seem to put them into words. I just want you here. I want you to be crawling around exploring our new house. Pulling things out of boxes. Crying for me to pick you up as I'm trying to put things away and not pull my hair out. I miss you so much more here. I love you baby girl. I am so sorry you aren't here in this beautiful house with us. I am trying so hard to make it our home, but I'm scared that nothing will ever feel like home without you. I love you. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Quick update

I thought I should do a quick update here. We are officially in our new house. It is beautiful. I am roughly one millionth as excited as I should be. I am happy to have the home I have always wanted. I am so lucky to have Rich. I am so thankful he bought us this home and gave me two beautiful girls. But even here, in a house she was never physically in, her absence is palpable. Tangible. She is missing and it is so evident. I miss her so much. 

We don't have internet set up yet, so this is all done from my phone. I am quickly using up all of our data. Once we have internet I will post more. I have been jotting random thoughts down the last few days. Lots of things heavily weighing on my mind. 

I do love our house sweetheart. Your picture was the first thing I brought in. I put it right on the mantle. You should be here. You deserve to be here. We've met a couple neighbors, but no one has asked how many kids we have yet, surprisingly. I won't hide you. I don't care how uncomfortable it might make someone. You are mine. I will always talk about you. Everyone should know about you. I love you sweet girl. I am so restless. I need to try to sleep. I love you baby girl. I wish you were here. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Moving is hard

This whole moving thing is harder than I thought it would be. I knew it would be hard to pack up Violet's things (which I have not done yet). I just didn't expect packing up everything else would make me so emotional. I was packing all the decorations from Lyvi and Vi's room today. It was hard. Violet never slept a night in that room, she slept with me every single night. But, I decorated that room for both of them. Her crib was in there. Her name is on the wall. The room was for both of them, and now one of them is gone. I broke down. Again. In front of Lyvi. I hate hate hate doing that. She was so sweet, yet again. I was able to pull myself together a little quicker this time and get back to letting her help me pack. Which she thinks is just the coolest thing ever. If all goes as planned, we should be moving into the new house this weekend. Super exciting huh. I still don't feel as excited about my dream home as I should. Before all of this shit storm happened, the prospect of buying our dream home sent me into a fit of happiness and dreams. All I had ever wanted was a happy marriage, healthy kids, and a beautiful home to raise our family. I had the first two, and we were working on the last one. I hate that this is tainted now. I hate it. We should be moving into this house with Violet. That 3rd bedroom should be hers. I shouldn't have to pack all of her stuff away into a cedar chest. This is not how it should be. I hate it. 

Let me step back and say that I am very excited about our new home. It is everything I have ever wanted. It is beautiful. I don't want to seem like I am unappreciative of all that I still have in my life. I love my husband and am so lucky to have him. I love Lyvi and I am so lucky to have her. I love Violet and I am so lucky to have had her, but so unlucky to have lost her. I miss her so much.

I think one day soon I want to write about my pregnancy and birth of Violet. Before I forget all that happened to get that sweet little chunk here. I miss her. 

Oh sweet girl, what I would give to go back to these pictures. You were such a fussbutt. Your little tummy was so mean for the first while. You cried and cried. I remember calling your pediatrician panicking because you were coughing. I was convinced you had somehow picked up pertussis. You were less than a week old at this point. He reassured me that you hadn't even been alive long enough to have contracted it and it sounded like silent reflux. Which is what it turned out to be. That got better after a little bit thank goodness. Looking back, even in those first few days I could feel that our time together wasn't going to be long. I hate that. I'm so sorry this happened to you sweetie. I will never get it. I love you so much, my Violetta Villalobos. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

Senseless Nonsense

I can't get out of this dark place. It started yesterday while I was packing away Lyvi's outgrown clothes and I realized all over again that Vi will never get to grow into these 2t clothes. And, then as I was grabbing shoes off the closet floor I found a little pink crocheted bow I made for the hat I made Violet. I had been teetering already since yesterday was 4 months, but that threw me over. I thought packing up Lyvi's clothes would be a hard, but safe task. I thought I would be ok. I didn't imagine that I would lose it. Finding the bow so unexpectedly hit me like a million daggers piercing my heart. The sobs heaved, my lungs empty, my heart felt like it would stop at any moment. She is gone. She died. I watched her die. I held her cold lifeless body. I laid her on a hospital gurney, kissed her bruised face, her hands, her feet, her legs, her toes, her fuzzy hair, her amazing eye brows, and her sweet lips for the last time 4 months ago. 4 months and 1 day ago everything was fine. Perfect. 4 months ago my life was utterly shattered beyond repair. All of this is real. This isn't going to end. There is nothing, absolutely nothing that I can do to fix this. The realization of it was just too much. It all hit me again so hard. So unexpectedly. I hate losing it in front of Lyvi. I try so hard to only softly cry in front of her, but I couldn't stop the onslaught. She sat with me for a long time. She kissed my forehead and wiped my tears. She told me it's ok. But it's not. None of this is ok. Nothing about this is ok. Eventually she wandered out of the room and started watching a show on TV. While I sobbed endlessly. At some point I realized I needed to get myself under control. I got up and took a shower. I finally calmed down after about an hour, but I stayed misty and sad all day. And, today I am still on the edge. I can't get my mind to stop. I can't get out of those horrific 20 hours. I had her for roughly 3,960 hours, why can't I get out of those last 20 hours. Why can't I remember all the times before that. All the times she was happy. All the times she was crying, which were many. All the times she nursed from me. All the times she slept peacefully in my arms. Why am I focusing on her terrible suffering and tragic death. Why why why. I wish I could get out of this place. I know in time it will ease up a bit. This wave just seems bigger and stronger than most. It's all hitting me with a renewed strength and I can't seem to fight it off. I can hear the sounds of her breathing. I can see the scared panic in her eyes. I couldn't help her. I couldn't stop it from killing her. All I could do was hold her, love her, talk to her. I hope she never felt alone. I hope she knew I was there until the end. I hope she knows I would have done anything to save her. I would have ended my life right then and there if it meant she would live. That ending would have been so much more just. It would have made sense. A mother sacrificing herself to save her child. It makes sense. A sweet innocent baby dying senselessly because of a fluke infection of MRSA in her lungs. It just doesn't make any sense. I am logical. Some would argue too logical, so for something so senseless to happen in my life is beyond ironic. Nothing will ever make sense of this mess. This senseless nonsense. 

Hi my sweet girl. I miss you so. All of you. Everything about you. I miss your endless hours of crying. I miss your sweet easy smile. I miss your stinky stinky farts. I miss your coos and screams and grunts and growls. I miss you. I just miss you. I love you so much sweetie pie honey buns. I hope you know I was there until the end. I hope you know I would and still will switch places with you in a heartbeat. I am so sorry my fat baby. I love you so much. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.