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.
Monday, June 30, 2014
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.