I am the other person

Never in my life did I think I would google search "bereavement counselors in Utah." I have never had a reason to need counseling or therapy. I have never looked down on people who need it, but I just never had a reason to need it. This is strange to me. I went today and talked with a counselor. She was kind. I go again on Friday. I don't know if she will be a great fit for me. I don't think she has ever dealt with something of this magnitude. Rich really liked the man he went to. I'm happy about that. I think I will go again Friday and see how it goes. She is really laid back, which I like. We'll see. I am keeping my options open. Saying the words out loud is hard. I haven't told many people about Violet. Everyone found out from my family and friends. I think one of the only people I told was Rich. When he walked into that dreadful room I said, well screamed, "She didn't make it!" Other than that I can't think of anyone else I have told in person that Violet died. Oh wait, on Friday I had to tell our tax lady about Violet. That sucked. So, anyways. The counselor had no background information on me, she had no idea what brought me there. I had to tell her that my perfect healthy 5 1/2 month old daughter got Influenza A and died 20 hours after she got sick. Saying the words out loud is so much harder than typing them. Seeing the shock, the pity, the sadness, the instant welling up of tears in the eyes. That is hard. It's a lot to put on a person. She was shocked, she didn't know what to do or what to say. She had a whole packet of questions that she normally goes through with new patients and she basically just chucked it. She asked me a couple questions about myself, but mainly just talked to me. We'll see. I think in the long run I need someone who is trained in helping bereaved parents. This isn't just me being depressed. This is a life long thing. Losing a child is the worst loss a person can go through in my opinion. Not to mention the trauma I have from what I saw. The sounds of her trying to breath. The shock from how fast she died. Just all of it. It's a lot to take on, so I need to find the right person for me. The person who is willing to take this on and understand the need of a bereaved parent. There is a foundation for bereaved parent's called MISS Foundation. It is based out of Arizona, and they don't have anything here in Utah from what I saw, but those are the people I need to see. All their providers are bereaved parents. So they really do get it. I emailed them, hopefully I will hear back soon and they will have some information for me. 

It's still just so surreal to me that this is my life. I am a bereaved parent. Even before I lost Violet I have read a few blogs of parent's who have lost children. Rockstar Ronan. The Spohrs are Multiplying. Mitchell's Journey. A few more that I didn't keep up with. I never thought I would be able to connect with these people like I can now. I thought this was something that happened to other people. Now I am "The other person" that this happens to. People will be able to tell their friend/family member/co-worker about me. They will say something along the lines of "My cousin's, boyfriend's, sister's, friend's baby died blah blah blah she writes a blog blah blah blah you should tell your friend/sister/brother/cousin about it since they lost a child blah blah blah." So surreal. I would give anything not to be this person. I don't want to be the person who's baby died. I don't want to be the person who cringes when the cute cashier at the store asks how many kids I have. I don't want to be the person who has a tattoo on her wrist for her dead daughter. I would give anything not to be that person. This is where I am struggling to most. Why am I that person. Of all the babies in all the world, why my Violet? Why does seemingly everyone else get to keep their babies. I say seemingly because I am not that ignorant, I know I'm not the only person who has lost a baby or child. But, in this moment, that's what it feels like. I feel like I am the only person who has ever had to watch their child die the way mine did. I didn't have to watch her suffer with cancer for months before she died. She didn't drown. She didn't have some birth defect or syndrome. She died from The Flu. That doesn't happen in real life. Everyone gets their flu shots. Everyone around Violet had their flu shot, so she shouldn't have gotten it. Of all the things she could have caught, she got the fucking flu. It makes no sense to me. I will never understand it. This is something you hear about on the news from across the country. I know kids, way too many kids, die of cancer. Having to watch my baby die in 20 hours was the absolute worse thing I can imagine. I can't even imagine what the cancer moms go through. They do it to save their child, they have hope that their child will get better. And, sometimes they do get better. I didn't have that hope. I didn't get to have a doctor tell me these treatments would make her better. They didn't tell me anything. They sure as hell didn't tell me she was going to die within hours. They obviously didn't know that would be the outcome, this sort of thing just doesn't happen. I can't imagine watching my child suffer for months or years. Those poor kids. Those poor parents. But, they have something to be mad at, something to put all their love and effort into afterwards. They can fight for funding for childhood cancer. I don't have anything to fight for. I can't go around shooting people with flu shots. There is nothing I can do. Nothing I can put my love and efforts into. I can't prevent another baby from dying from the flu. I can't hope that in 20 years there will be a cure for the flu. All I can do is be sad and mad and live in constant fear of the flu, and cancer, and all the other countless things that kill kids. Not to diminish the grief of a parent who has lost a child to cancer. That is awful and I am so so sorry. I can't even imagine going through that. Any way a child dies is awful and terrible and should not happen. I have also noticed from reading blogs and such that the parent's who have a strong faith seem to fair better than those who don't have a strong faith. I fall in the latter category. I have never had a strong faith or belief system. And, obviously I don't now. Obviously. I'm not saying these people have it easier than me, their child died and that is awful. But, they have an undying faith that they will see their child again, and that there is a reason that their child died. I do not have that belief. I can feel Violet, and things have happened since she died that have shaken me and made me believe that she is still with me. But, I absolutely don't think there is a reason she died. I think it was a fluke, bad luck. Wrong place wrong time. She shouldn't have died. I don't have a rope to grasp onto to hold me up. I don't get to put my grief on someone else, I don't get to ask for divine help and understanding. It is all mine. I get to learn how to live with this, how to live a life without my Violet. My grief is very black and white. My daughter died, there was no reason for it, it was not her time, she should still be here. So I will be sad, angry, confused, desperate, depressed, and every other emotion I need to feel. I will grieve her. I want to grieve her. I want to be sad, because my sadness is all I have left of her. 

Today was a hard day for your daddy. Everyday is hard for me, he is usually the one to hold me up. But, he had a hard day today too. We went and visited your grave after our counseling appointments. We cried. I cry all the time. Everyday. But, I don't see your daddy cry everyday. I think it is good for him to cry. I don't want him holding it in. I know what would help him. Getting you back. That's the only thing that would help him, and I know that can't happen. But, if you can pull some strings where ever you are that would be awesome baby girl. It would have been easier for him to lose me than you, so I will still gladly change places with you. Just say the word and we'll do it. If I could see you one more time, just for a minute, that would be icing on the cake. I still feel like at any second I'm going to wake up from this terrible vivid nightmare and you'll be right there next to me. sweetly sleeping in your woombie. Sometimes I wonder if I'm going crazy. Normal people don't think that they are living in a nightmare, but normal people haven't lost you. I'm not a normal person. You were not a normal baby. You were so much more than the average baby. So strong, so incredibly strong. So vocal and opinionated from the get go. I miss that so much. Your crazy little personality. Some of my very favorite videos of you are the ones where you are whining and crying. So freaking cute. I miss you, so much. Miss isn't even close to the right word. There is no word in the english language to describe how much I need you back. I'm so sorry I let this happen to you. I love you so much my fat baby. Good night baby girl, I hope you are warm.