Bad Place

So, I have learned that my panic and anxiety doesn't stop at my kids. Apparently it extends out to my puppy too. Yesterday Loki (we renamed him) was sick. He had yucky bad diarrhea. He was super lethargic. He threw up twice in the night. He was so sick. I was sure, absolutely sure that he had Parvo and was going to die. I knew it. I knew he was going to die. I started to panic. I could feel the panic building, just like it started building when Vi was having a hard time breathing at one in the morning. It built and built and built. Until it boiled over and I realized I was having an anxiety attack. Yes, it was about the puppy, I didn't want him to die. But, really it was more than that. It was about Violet. Because the unthinkable happened, I expect it to continue happening. Because Violet's innocent cough turned into a severe and fatal lung infection, I expect a little bit of diarrhea to turn into Parvo and death. I think this is a normal reaction because of what happened to Vi, but I really want to work through it. I realized in the midst of this attack, that if I react this severely to a puppy having diarrhea, can you imagine how I would be as a pregnant person. Or, as the mother of a brand new baby again. I realized in that moment, that as much as I desperately need another baby, I'm not ready. I want to be ready. I want to be able to feel like I could make it through a pregnancy and (god willing) make it through newborn stage without ending up in the looney bin, but I'm so not there yet. If I get to have another baby someday, I want to be the best mother I can be for that baby. And, that means I need to work through this anxiety and learn how to control it. I think it will always be there. I panic when Lyvi gets a cold now, but not as bad as I did yesterday with Loki. That was bad. I was panicking so badly that I had to get away from the puppy, I had to leave. So, I drove to go take care of a fix it ticket. I was calm enough to know I could drive, but I did leave Lyvi with Rich. I needed to be alone and get myself under control. On the way to the city building, I was bawling. I was back in that hospital room. I felt so out of control of my whole life. I can't do anything to prevent tragedy from striking again. I can't keep my puppy safe and I couldn't keep my baby safe. What is wrong with me? What did I do wrong? I was spiraling into a deep guilt hole that I wasn't going to be able to get myself out of. And, then I Will Wait came on. And, I started to calm down. She's here with me. I could feel her telling me to calm down. Telling me I didn't do anything wrong. But, I was still panicky. And, then Pompeii started after. I took a breath. I became rational again. I realized that I didn't cause Violet's death. I realized that if Loki died, it wasn't my doing. I didn't kill him. It would just be more bad luck. But, I could also feel her telling me that he's ok. He just has a little tummy bug or he was stupid and ate something he shouldn't have. I calmed down for the most part. I was still pretty anxious all day. I still kept telling myself he was probably going to die, which I think is just a defense mechanism so that if he did die, it wouldn't be such a shock. Which is so stupid. It still would have been shocking and awful. I am happy to report that Loki is not dead. He woke up this morning in his usual asshole dickhead manner. He is just fine. Playing and eating and biting the hell out of Lily. But, at least I know where I'm at mentally. Which is not a good place. I have some work to do. 

Look at this stupid dog.

Thank you for calming me down yesterday sweetheart. I am so happy that you are mine and that you are still here with me. I do wish you were actually physically here though. I would still give anything to have you back. Always. I love you my sweet feisty fat little baby. Always. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

Vi hours old, sleeping in my arms in my hospital bed. 

Quiet

I'm feeling quiet lately. I don't have much to say. And, I don't know why. I don't know if that's good or bad. I don't know if I'm running and burying my grief down too deep. Or, if I am already learning how to compartmentalize it. I'm definitely not ok. Definitely not. I am sad. Deeply and profoundly sad. I'm so sad that she's been gone for over 5 months now. I am so sad that I can't remember what it felt like to hold her. I'm forgetting her. Forgetting everything about her. This is going to sound crazy, but I seriously don't remember actually having her. I feel like it was all a big dream. It's surreal that she was actually here. It would be easier for me to believe that she was never actually here, that I dreamt her up, then it would be to believe that she was here and she did die. For my mind, that would be easier. But, then my stupid pesky heart has to sneak up and remind me that a huge chunk of it is missing. That she was here. That all these pictures and videos and feelings are real. This really did happen to me. To her. I really was pregnant for 37 weeks with her. I really did give birth to the most beautiful baby I have ever set eyes on. She really did sleep next to me every night she was alive. I realized today that I was never away from her for more than 2 hours at a time. In her whole life. I would venture to guess that I wasn't away from her for more than 10 hours total. In her whole 5 months 12 days. At least I have that. At least I have no guilt about the time I spent with her. She was always with me. Nursing whenever she wanted. Sleeping whenever I could persuade her to. Crying a lot. But, also playing a lot. She was just the sweetest thing. That is something I do remember. I do remember how sweet she was. I am so sad. 

such a beautiful baby

The fourth of July wasn't hard like the other holidays have been. We were able to have some fun. I wasn't in a terrible mood like I have been on the other holidays. Rich had to work that evening, so Lyvi and I went to the park with my sisters and their kids. Then we went over to our uncle's house to watch fireworks. It was fun. Lyvi liked the fireworks to a point, but she did end up asking to go home. So, we went home. And, then it hit me. The tears surprised me. I wasn't expecting them, but there they were. There was no stopping them. They just flowed freely. I didn't realize how much I had been holding in all day. Until it all flowed out of me like lava. I expect this is how my life will be all the time. Holding it in, thinking that I'm ok, and then being shocked when I'm back in a safe place and it all comes out. I can't cry in front of people. I very rarely cry in front of anyone other than Lyvi. Which is terrible, it would probably be better to cry in front of Rich instead of Lyv. She doesn't like it when I cry, but I think she gets it. Today we were talking about VI in the car, like we usually do. We were talking about Vi being in the stars because Lyv had just saw the moon. After a few seconds of silence Lyvi said "I want get Baby Vi back." Ouch. We can't get her back. Ever. I once again had to tell my oldest daughter that her baby sister is dead and will never come back. I say it as simply as I can, and then I tell her that Vi is in her heart, and the stars, and in everything pretty. I really hate this part of it. I hate that Lyvi lost her sister and that I have to explain it to her so often. I will do it because Lyvi deserves to know the truth and she deserves to have an explanation. But, dammit it hurts. 

I know I have said all of this stuff before. I feel like I should have some profound break through to write about. But, I don't. Things have been quiet. And sad. Just the same stuff over and over. Just trying to get through another day of this hell without Violet. Trying to figure out what to do now. What our next step is. Or if we even have a next step. Is this it? Is this going to be our life now. Just me, Rich, and Lyvi? Always thinking about Violet, but never getting her back. I don't know. I hope we can have another baby someday. I really REALLY don't want Lyv to grow up alone. I don't want her to have to worry about all the things that happen if your parents get old by herself. I want her to have a sibling to grow up with. And nieces and nephews. I want more for her. And for me. And for Rich. And for Violet. I want to make her proud. I want her to know that we always love her and always miss her, but that we were able to move forward. That's what I want now I think. I want to be able to move forward at some point. I need to take a step forward in this new life. But, not yet. We aren't ready yet. We are still standing still, just trying to breath. 

Hi baby girl. I'm feeling so sad lately. And so alone. I just miss you. I wish I remembered what it was like to have you. I wish you were still here. You would have been such a shit on the fourth. Such a shit. But, you would have had so much fun. We would have loved showing you fireworks and letting you eat food at the bbq. I would have shared a snow cone with you. It would have been perfect, even if you and your sister were driving me batty. I just want you here. I want you to experience life. I want you to get scrapes and cuts, try new food, crawl in the grass, play in the pool, eat mud. I want you to be here. I'm so sorry you aren't here. So so sorry baby girl. We got a puppy today! You would love him and hate him. His name is Thor. He's a pit bull just like Lily. He's very Ultraviolet. Super sweet, but crazy feisty. Just like you baby girl. I love you so much sweetie pie honey buns. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

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. 

Empty

First I just want to say that I suck at replying back to comments on here, but know that I read and appreciate them all even if I don't reply. It can be really hard to find the right words to say. I can write endlessly about my loss and my feelings, but when it comes to thanking people for their words and condolences I am at a loss. Thank you for reading along and for all the kind words. 

Today is memorial day. Not that I need a reason to remember or visit my daughter's grave, but we will be going to sit with her later on today. Oh how I wish today was just a day I could use as an excuse to have a barbecue with family. Blahhh.

I am feeling so empty lately. Just empty. Nothing excites me. I just don't feel anything, until the despair creeps in. Then all I feel is pain and sorrow and empty sadness. Always the emptiness. Nothing can ever fix this. Nothing can ever mend my heart. Nothing will ever change this. Aside from my own death. It's an overwhelming and profoundly empty feeling. I can't imagine that this emptiness will ever fill in. Sure, maybe it won't be so profound one day. I have heard as time goes on the pain gets less raw, you learn to live with the hole, but it's always there. Always wanting to creep in and take over. I know even though we lost Violet, we are still very lucky. I have an amazing family. Amazing friends. I have Rich. I have Lyvi. We are buying our dream home. We can put food on our table and a roof over our heads. We have clean drinking water, access to medical care. Education. We are truly lucky when compared to the dire circumstances in other parts of the world. I know that. But, it doesn't make my heart hurt any less. It doesn't fill in the emptiness in my soul. It doesn't make me any less angry.

Oh the anger. Sometimes it scares me. I have never felt anger of this magnitude. it's eating away at me, as much as I don't want it to. It is changing me. It is changing my inner most workings. I don't view things the way that I used to. Very few things really impact me anymore. I don't like it. I don't have much sympathy for people. Someone you loved died? I am so sorry for your loss, but at least it wasn't your child. It could be worse. At least that person got to live a life. I know that is terrible. I know that will offend people. I have lost people I love other than Vi. My grandma died when I was 12. I had never experienced sadness like that before. I remember feeling so sad. I remember wanting to fix everything because I hated seeing my dad so sad. But that feeling? That isn't even a drop in the hat compared to what I am feeling now. I know if you haven't lost a child you can't understand this. But, the people who have lost a child get it. Like my friend Jenny said, "No one else will ever fully understand…nor do we want them too. But it's hard…because we kind of wish they would." (I stumbled upon Jenny's blog when I was googling pictures of staph infections, because I got one on my arm after I got my tattoo for Violet. She lost her beautiful Vienne a year and a half ago suddenly and unexpectedly. Let's not even talk about how weird it is that I found her blog by googling staph, seeing a picture of her daughter Ivy who had a staph infection on her head, and then come to find out MRSA, which is a staph infection, is what took my Violet. Weird, I know. Take a peek at her blog, send her some love. forvienne.blogspot.com) I would never wish this on anyone. I really wouldn't. But, why did it happen to me. To Rich. To Lyvi. To our families. And, especially Violet. Why did it happen to her. Why doesn't she get to live a life? Why do all these other people get to live and have all of their children with them? Why do people get to have so many kids, and I can't even keep my 2? I would have been content with my 2 girls. I really would have been. I wouldn't have wanted anything else in my life, especially if I got even a one second taste of this despair and emptiness. I just wish it wouldn't have happened. And, if it had to happen, if MRSA had to kill a sweet baby, I wish it wasn't my baby. Most of all though, I just wish this didn't have to happen at all. I'm sorry if this offends anyone. I'm not trying to diminish anyone's grief or loss, I'm really not. I wish so much that I didn't have to know how this felt. I wish I could be on the other side where the loss of someone other than a child felt life changing and staggering. I realize to the vast majority of people, these losses are staggering and life changing. Oh, how I wish I was on that side. 

I don't think I have shared this video on here yet. If I have oh well. It's one of my favorites. Violet was like this most of the time. Just pissed off, but happy. Content for a second, and then not content at all. Whiny, but able to be sidetracked with toys or happy talking. I miss her. 

It's almost been 4 months my sweet girl. I can't even believe that. It feels like a lifetime, but it feels like yesterday. I can't believe it has almost been 4 months since I held you. Since I nursed you. I can't believe the last time I nursed you was really the last time. It wasn't peaceful like all the other times. It was gut wrenching. You wanted to eat so bad. Your mouth was so dry and you were so hungry, but you couldn't catch your breath so you couldn't suck and swallow. I don't think about that very often. It hurts too much. My one responsibility was to keep you fed and healthy, and I couldn't do either of those things. I'm so sorry baby girl. I'm so sorry. I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.