The current cycle

There's this weird thing that happens with my grief. It's hard to put into words the feelings. I'll be going through my day, Violet always on my mind, but I'm not a complete disaster. It's almost like I don't realize that she's really gone. Or that I know she's gone but there's nothing I can do about it so why be a mess about it. Why not just accept it, learn to live with it. This lasts for anywhere from a second to a couple days. And, then it all hits me again. She is really gone. It is really as terrible as it sounds. All the pretending or trying to accept it doesn't make it any better. She's gone. And there is nothing I can do about it. She was here. I took the best care of her that I could. But, she died anyways. I will never hold her again. I will never nurse her again. She is gone. This conversation goes on in my head from anywhere to a second to a couple days. And, then I am back to not realizing she is gone/knowing she is gone but understanding that there is nothing I can do about it. This cycle really sucks. 

I was driving to the cemetery to clean off her grave for lawn maintenance tonight, and in a driveway was a little girl, maybe a year old. Chubby chubby, wearing a cute romper. Playing with her dad. That's when it hit me. The cycle of how fucking horrible this really is hit me. Violet will never play in the front yard with Rich. She will never run up and down the driveway chasing and laughing with her sister. I will never have a one year old Violet. This really really really fucking sucks. Sometimes I just want it all to end. I just want to be at the end of all of this. But, is there an end? Not while I am alive there isn't. It will always hurt. Until the second my heart stops beating. What happens after that I don't have a clue. Maybe something. Maybe nothing. Either way, I can't wait to be there and be rid of this pain. I am not going to purposely end my life. I don't want to die right now. I just can't wait until I can die and be done with this stupid life I have to live without Violet. I want to enjoy this life. You only get one, so I will try to enjoy it as best I can while living without my entire soul. I really can't wait until the end though. It makes living worth it. Living just so I can die. How fucking depressing is that.

I wish desperately I could have my one year old Violet. She would be amazing, feisty, crazy, happy, fat, runnnnnnning, pissed off 63% of the time, happier than you could ever imagine the other 37% of the time. She would be SO UltraViolet. I miss her. I miss one year old Violet that I never get to have. I miss her so much.

Can you imagine the eyebrows of one year old Violet. My god they would be incredible.

Hey my fat baby. I miss you. I hate this so much. It isn't fair. It doesn't make a lick of sense. How am I supposed to live in this world that is complete nonsense? I don't really have a choice though do I. This is the only Earth we have, so unless I want to off myself I guess I'm stuck. I wouldn't do that. That wouldn't be fair to you. You died, you don't get to live. So, I will live with you in my heart. I will try baby girl. I really will. I'm not quite as foggy this week. I love you sweetie pie honey buns. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

I'm in a fog

This week has been a fog. I don't know how it is Sunday night. I couldn't tell you what I did all week. Not a clue how so many hours have passed by. I do know that I have been more sad and more angry this week than I have for quite some time. I am just not digesting all this new information very well. I want to run away. I don't want to know that my daughter died from MRSA. I just want to run away and forget everything because everything hurts. I don't want to do this, I don't want this to be my life. I wasn't given a choice, she was violently ripped away from me. And, dammit it's not fair. It's just not fair. I feel like I'm back in those first few terrible weeks. Just existing, trying not to throw punches at people because I am so angry. Trying not to crumble into a million pieces because I am so sad. The waves this week have been brutal and unforgiving. The screaming in my head hasn't stopped one time since Monday when we found out what really happened. My tolerance for shit is at an all time low. I am on edge, and I will break soon. Some poor person is going to say something stupid to me and I am going to go bat shit crazy on them. Or, I will fall to the ground and die. Either one is very possible. I need a day to be catatonic. To do nothing but sit in The Chair and stare at a wall. No TV. No music. No book. No toddler. Just me and my shattered heart. 
I'm just so confused. What in the actual fuck. Thanks for that line Nicole ;). What in the actual fuck?! We are clean healthy people. We do not do drugs. We are not homeless. We are not in prison. We have NONE of the risk factors for a MRSA infection. She was perfect. Healthy. Growing. I don't fuuuuucking get it. I just do not get it. Yes, I know that most people have MRSA colonized on their bodies. But, how does it get from colonization of the outer body, to infection of the lungs. Just like that. Just swoops right in and kills. This scares me infinitely more than the flu. There is a shot to help prevent the flu. There is nothing you can do to stop this. I did everything right. We washed hands. We rarely left the house. She got sick one time. One. Time. And, then she got MRSA in her lungs and died. This MRSA did not come from the hospital, it came from the community. We were rarely in the "community" and when we were she was on my person in the mei tai or in her carseat. She was absolutely perfect. I did everything in my power to protect her. But, it didn't make a damn bit of difference. I just do not understand this. 
This is all so scattered. My mind isn't in a good place right now. I am terrified to start packing. We pulled out all our boxes from the storage closet and it sent me over. I was fine until I grabbed the box labeled "12 month clothes, mostly summer stuff." Those are the clothes Vi should be wearing right now. I packed those away when Lyvi outgrew them with hopes that I would have another daughter to put them on someday. I had another daughter. But, I never got to put her in them. I was so angry I couldn't even verbalize what was happening in my mind. so, I threw a plastic toy shoe as hard as I could. And, I went on with my day. This is the story of my life. 

I'm so angry. I'm so sad. I'm so confused. But, most of all I miss her. I miss her so much. Can this all be over yet?

Hi my baby girl. I haven't written in a long time. I'm sorry. I am so sorry that I had no idea what was happening inside of your body as I watched helplessly. I should have known it wasn't the flu. I should have known. I do not think it would have mattered, but I still should have known. I will never forgive myself for letting you die. It's irrational. I know. But I am your mama and I should have protected you better. I don't know what I did wrong, but I obviously failed you. In the worst way possible. I am so sorry baby girl. I know you wouldn't want me to feel this way. I know you wouldn't want to see me hurting like this. I am going to try my hardest to be better this week. I need to function more. I really will try. I miss you more than I could ever explain. I love you my fat fat baby. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

#Ineedanewhashtag

I'm not even sure how to start this. 

Everything we knew is wrong. 

We got her autopsy results today. I am in shock. I am just in shock. She didn't die from Influenza A. 

"The cause of death is community-accquired methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus (CA-MRSA) bronchopneumonia. CA-MRSA is usually associated with skin or soft tissue infections, though is a growing cause of pediatric pneumonia. CA-MRSA pneumonia is more commonly seen in children, often follows influenza or influenza-like illness, and is often severe with a mortality rate of up to 40% (more than half of deaths occur within two days of hospital admission). The source of CA-MRSA is often unknown, even after careful history taking.

While the rapid test at the local hospital was positive for Influenza A, viral culture and PCR studies were negative for Influenza A and other common respiratory viruses. Rapid tests are screening with sensitivities of 50-70% and specificities of 90-95%. When flu prevalence is high, false positives are in the 2-3% range. In this case the rapid test in likely to have been a false positive. Still, it is known that rapid tests can detect dead viral particles making it possible that this infant had a resolving influenza A infection that then did not grow in culture. However, the negative PCR test makes this less likely. As CA-MRSA pneumonia often follows a flu-like illness, this infant may have been infected by a virus not detected by the usual respiratory panels, such as rhinovirus."

Let that sink in for a minute.

Digest that. 

Ok, lets discuss. First off, what the fuck. How in the flying fuck did this happen? What this is saying, is that the tiny insignificant cough/stuffy nose that she had 4 days prior to her death was some sort of virus, most likely not Influenza A, but maybe possibly Influenza A, or rhinovirus or some other virus. This virus compromised her immune system enough that she touched/breathed in MRSA and it went crazy and destroyed her little lungs. What this is saying is that any of us can get a common cold, or influenza A, and we can kick it in the ass, but then we could die from CA-MRSA bronchopneumonia. I have googled (obviously) this. Everything says this normally occurs in young patients after influenza or influenza-like illnesses. And, without a high level of suspicion it is very likely to be missed. So, since the rapid test for Influenza A was positive, this infection never crossed anyone's mind. Everyone just assumed it was the flu. This makes so much more sense. I never really understood how it could go so fast. Lung hemorrhage can happen with Influenza A, but it is rare. Her lungs hemorrhaged and had abscesses and necrosis from MRSA. But, how could they have known that? It all happened too fast. Just too fast for her little body. 

My initial reaction was shock. Confusion. Anger. How could this have been missed? How could they have treated my daughter for something she didn't have, and let her die? How did this happen? Then the farther we got in the conversation, the more I realized it wouldn't have mattered. I will never know for sure, but I truly think that even if they would have known immediately that it was CA-MRSA, and started administering antibiotics, she still would have died. Maybe she would have lived for a couple more miserable days. Given the choice I would rather her die after 20 hours then 2 days. She would have been miserable and in so so much pain. She would have been terrified and confused. And, then most likely she would have died anyways. I will never know this for sure, but I have to tell myself this. And, from what I witnessed and the speed that it all happened, I doubt the antibiotics would have even had a chance to work before her lungs hemorrhaged. It was overwhelming and catastrophic and I don't think anything could have changed the outcome. 

I have the report next to me. It tells me everything about her. Her thighs were 24.2 cm, which is 9.5 inches. That's such a fat baby thigh. Her ears were 4.4 cm and 4.5 cm. She was 63.5cm long, 25 inches. 25 inches of perfect beautiful baby. The second paragraph of the report starts "Autopsy showed a well-developed and well-nourished female infant." Well-nourished is the professional way of saying "fat baby." She was such a fat baby.

I'm glad we know. I am glad Rich had the sense to agree to an autopsy. I probably would have said no, since we knew it was Influenza A. I am so glad they did this. But, am I? Am I glad that I know what killed my beautiful baby? I don't think glad is in the vocabulary of a grieving mother. But, I think it was a good decision to have the autopsy done. It doesn't change anything, but it changes everything. 

Right as I finished that paragraph "Your Song" started. Thank you baby girl, for being with me. I need you tonight. This is all too much. I haven't even started to process all of this. I don't know how to feel. Who to blame. What to do. What is there to do, other than be sad? It doesn't make this any better to know what killed you. It doesn't make this any easier, if anything it's harder. This is such a fluke thing. Such bad luck. I have never heard of anything like this happening before today. I have heard of the flu killing people, I have heard of people in hospitals getting MRSA. But, a healthy growing 5 month old baby gets a virus and then CA-MRSA invades and kills her. I am so sorry this happened to you sweetheart. I am just so sorry. I miss you so much that sometimes I don't know how I will go on. And, sometimes I just have to shove it all deep deep down. Know that even when I shove it down, I still think of you. I still miss you. Shoving it down doesn't mean I love you any less, it just means that I can only take so much of the all encompassing grief before I have to shove it down so that I can take care of our Lyvi-Loo. And, really, I can only take so much before I am absolutely certain it will kill me. I love you so much my sweet well-nourished baby. So much. I miss you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

Lost

I have put a word to the emotion that I feel most of the time. Lost. I am just lost. It's like I was on a path. The path that I have always wanted to be on. I was walking along this beautiful path, surrounded by blue skies and wildflowers and streams and frolicking deer, minding my own business, enjoying everything life had to offer. Just having a grand old time. And then, BAM. All of a sudden I'm in the middle of some maze. You know those hedge mazes, one of those. Just smack dab in the middle of one of those. Something picked me up and dropped me in the center of a maze. Dark cloudy skies. I'm just lost and I don't know what to do to get out of here. I have to have something to look towards to keep going. In the first few days it was planning her funeral. After that it was going to Washington. After that it was waiting for friends, cousins, family etc to come over on whatever day they planned. Sometimes it something as going over to Shay's house to bake. The biggest thing now is the house. The house is keeping me moving. I have something to look towards, I have things to get for the house still. But, what happens after the house? What's next? I feel like I'm going to crash, and I'm going to crash hard. I think I might just sit down in the middle of this maze and die. I have to keep moving or I will stop and I will not get back up. I need to find something else to look towards. I want my beautiful path with frolicking deer and wildflowers back dammit. I know I will never get that. Not really. Maybe someday I will be out of the maze, or at least be able to see over the walls. Maybe.

Hi my beautiful fat silly baby. I miss the hell out of you. We took pictures of all of the grandkids for grandma for Mother's day. Topher held a big picture of you. It was so heartbreakingly beautiful. I was having a hard time feeling ok with the picture. On the way there I felt awful, I couldn't bear to do it. To have a picture of all the grandkids and you not really be in it. I was sick to my stomach, but then pompeii came on. I can always tell when it's you and not just a fluke. It was you, but just to get your point across the second Pompeii ended I switched the station and I Will Wait started. Then when we pulled in, I rolled down my window and Pompeii was on again on a different station in your Aunt Angie's car and it was on my station again at the same time. So, Pompeii 3 times and I Will Wait all in the span of about 10 minutes. If that didn't convince me to suck it up and have Lisa take the pics I don't know what would have. Thank you for that sweet girl. I needed that little push from you. I hate this, I can't stand that you aren't here sitting on Topher's lap trying to crawl away and eat dandelions. I hate every second of this. But, I love you. Oh how I love you. I'm not even going to mention how tomorrow is stupid stupid stupid Mother's Day. Stupid. I miss you sweet girl. So much. Wait for me, let's go the stars. 

Almost perfect. Almost.

This is what I get for making plans

This wasn't the plan. This wasn't how my life was supposed to happen. I wanted to live a boring happy life. I wanted to raise our beautiful girls, in a beautiful home. I wanted to bicker and fight and fall more in love with my husband every year. I wanted to have a boring life, where the saddest thing that happened was maybe needing to put our dog down. I could see it all unfolding in front of me. Everything was so perfect. Rich and I had never been stronger than we were after we had Vi. My girls were happy and feisty and growing. Everyone in my life was happy. Everything was great. I will even go so far as to say everything was perfect. My life was going exactly where I had always planned for it to go. We were talking about buying a home. Rich was very happy with our 2 girls, and I was leaning strongly to being happy with just 2. I could see it. It was all within my reach. I could feel it with the tips of my fingers. And then, in a matter of seconds, it was gone. All of it. Violently ripped out of my reach. Ripped to shreds. Set ablaze. That beautiful boring happy life I so wanted to live was gone. I still have Rich, we are staying strong somehow. We still have our Lyvi-loo. We are buying our dream home. We still have the rest of our family. But, there is a giant hole. A deep dark black hole where Violet should be. We are all walking disasters. My parents. My siblings. My cousins. My friends. My Lyvi-Loo. We are all walking around with gaping holes in our hearts. People who don't even know me are aching for Violet. Her loss is profound. It changes the way you look at life. Her loss has changed everything about me. Sure, I survived. I'm surviving. But, am I? Am I really? No. I'm not. I died when she died. I am not and will never be the same person I was before January 31st, 2014. This just wasn't supposed to happen to us. It wasn't. Violet was supposed to grow up. I can't stand this. I loathe this. All of it. Everything about it. I hate having to tell Lyvi that her sister died. I finally said those words to her today. I have never said those words out loud to Lyvi. I have always just told her that Violet got sick and she had to go away  she is in the stars, and she will never be able to come back. But, I knew at some point I needed to start being more upfront with her. She doesn't know what die means. When I told her today that Violet died she looked at me with big sad eyes, eyes that comprehend more than we give her credit for. Eyes that are slowing starting to get it. Eyes that break my already shattered heart. Don't get me wrong, Lyvi is fine. Lyvi is happy. We are trying as hard as we can to keep her life normal. But, she is sad. She misses Violet and that is fine. It's healthy. She should miss Violet, and she should be sad. This is a sad sad thing. I realized the other day that if we aren't able to give Lyv another sibling for one reason or another she will never have the chance to be an aunt. How fucking sad is that. I love being an aunt. Aside from being a mother, being an aunt is the next best thing. Lyvi deserves to be an aunt. And, a mother if she wants that. So did Violet though and we all know how that turned out. Apparently this is what I get for making plans. I have always been superstitious. I have always had a feeling that I was going to jinx something, anything, by saying specifics. I never realized that this is what all that was about. I never realized that by making plans for what I wanted out of life, that I would lose my daughter. The universe is kind of a dick.

Hi my sweet girl. I hope you are ok. I hope you are happy. All I want is to get you back, but since I can't have that I just want you to be ok. I wish I could know that. I wish I wasn't so skeptical and logical. I have been sleeping without any pills for a couple weeks now, but you still haven't visited me. I want you to visit me in my dreams, even though I know waking up will be like losing you all over again. This is so terrible. I hate it so much. I hate that of all the 6 billion people in the world, that this happened to you. So unlucky. I miss you so much my sweet fat baby. I would give anything to get you back. I love you my Violetta Villalobos. Wait for me, lets go to the stars. 

Oblivious

You know how when you buy a new car, and then you start seeing the car everywhere? I genuinely hope it is the same phenomenon happening now, with all the sad stories of little ones passing away. Since Violet died I have stumbled across so many heartbreaking stories. Vienne. Ollie. Sage. Preston, Julian, Kaden. Olive. Kate. Maddalena. The twins. So many others. And, today I heard about a beautiful sweet little dude named Ryan who died in a tragic accident. I just can't shake this. Why does it happen so often and I never knew it? How could all of these beautiful kids be dying and I was so oblivious. I encountered some child death before all off this. Maddie. Ronan. Ryker. Shaundi. A few others that I have sadly and embarrassingly forgotten the names of. My sweet cousins Brad and Kate lost their baby boy, Miles, almost 4 years ago. So, I knew it happened, I knew it could happen to someone you love, I just didn't know how often it happens. I went to a Mother's day lunch yesterday for mom's who have lost a child. So many sad tragic stories. It is disgusting, just disgusting. There is no other way to describe it. No other word to explain the horror of having to live the rest of your days missing a huge piece of your heart and soul. It is comforting in a strange awful way to know that I'm not alone. But, oh how I wish I was alone. All these beautiful babies and kids. I just can't even handle it. All their broken beautiful mama's. I wish I could give all of them a hug, tell them that I am in this with them. We're in this together ladies. And, to sum it up, it's fucking awful.

God I miss her.

I miss you silly baby. I just miss you. Wait for me, lets go to the stars.

Shot to the Gut

It's late. I'm tired. I should be trying to sleep, but my mind is racing. It has been racing for days, but it's been too fast and scattered to even try to make sense of it. I haven't had the urge to write. It takes a few days or a shot to the gut to get my mind to slow back down. The shot to the gut happened tonight. Lyvi and I were laying in bed looking at pictures and watching videos of Violet, like we almost always do before bed. We had looked at a few pictures and started watching a little video. Out of nowhere Lyvi says, "Mommy. When Baby Vi coming back?" Damnit. Fuck fuck fuck. Can I please just die right now so I don't have to tell my almost 3 year old that her baby sister is never coming back. Ever. Death is not a concept a toddler's brain should have to try to understand. I'm 26 years old and I don't understand it at all. How in the hell is a 2 year old supposed to grasp the concept? I told her, "Baby girl, Violet can't come back. She's never coming back. She's in the stars forever and ever." Of all the things I have ever said in all my 26 years of life, this was the hardest. We have been up front with Lyvi about it all, as much as we have felt comfortable with. I have told her that Violet can't come back. I have never given her any reason to think that Vi might come back someday. But, apparently I've done a shitty job. OR maybe it's just that this whole thing is shitty. It's so shitty to have to tell your daughter that her sister is gone. Forever. Just gone. No warning, the last time Lyvi saw Violet alive she was happy and playing. The next day she didn't see me or Rich at all. And, the morning after that her sweet beautiful baby sister was gone. Never to return. Just gone. After I told her that Violet is gone forever she got sad. And quiet. She had tears in her eyes and her little lip was quivering. I could see her brain spinning, trying to understand, trying to put the words together to say how sad she is. But, she can't do that. She's so little. Her little brain is making new connections everyday, but the concept of death and how final it is just doesn't compute. But, I'm very sure that this is all shaping her. For the better or for the worse, I don't know. Hopefully for the better. I hope that she will not ever take life for granted. I hope that she will love fully and deeply, but will also not give her love over easily because she knows how bad it hurts to lose a love. I hope that she will always think about her baby sister, and if she ever has kids I hope she will tell them about their aunt Violet. My poor little girl's heart is broken. She misses her baby sister, and she just doesn't understand any of this. I have been thinking a lot about how unfair this is to me. I try not to venture there often because it just seems so petty compared to the injustice Violet was served with. But, now I really can't think about how unfair this is to me, because what about my Lyv. She lost her baby sister. She lost her mom, well her old mom. Now she has this shattered broken mom who is desperately trying to keep her head above water. Who loses her cool so much faster now because she is just so sad she can't seem to deal with the normal everyday stuff as easily. This mom who cries all the time and is forever talking about her dead baby sister with her in the vein hope that she will maybe remember her forever. This mom who looks like her old mom, but isn't even a shadow of that person anymore. This is all just so fucking shitty.

I miss you silly baby. Lyvi misses you so so much. I wish you didn't go. I wish you were still here wreaking havoc and making life difficult. I just miss you. I am still under some false fantasy that this isn't forever and that maybe just maybe someday I will get you back. I know I won't...but maybe. I love you sweet girl. Stick close to your big sister, she needs some comfort. I'm so sorry this happened to you. I'm so sorry. I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars.

Clarification

For my own peace of mind I feel I need to clarify a few things from my last post. First off, I write for me. And, for Violet. If you take anything I write personally then you are reading the wrong blog. I stated in my post that all of my thoughts are irrational. I said that in plain english. I reread my post and can see how it could be misinterpreted. So, let me clear a couple things up. What I truly meant by all of that nonsense was that given the choice right now to get Violet back or have a new baby, I would choose Vi. I would choose Violet a million times. Because, I had her and lost her. I love her with every piece of my heart and soul. I do not know or love any future children I may have, but that does not mean that I wouldn't love any future child. Of course I would. Just like with Lyvi and Violet, if I see a positive pregnancy test I will instantly love that life inside of me. But, for right now, in this moment, I want Violet back. I would choose Violet. I would rip out my uterus and ovaries right now and never have another child again if it meant I could get Violet back. I was in NO WAY diminishing anyone else's loss or grief. My loss and grief has NOTHING to do with anyone else. Everyone's loss is unique and individual. No one reacts exactly the same way. Having a stillborn, a premie, an infant, a toddler, a child, a teen, or an adult child die is an unspeakable tragedy. No matter the age or way of the death, a grieving parent is a grieving parent. We are in this together. We are supposed to support each other and understand that we are going to say irrational things without thinking it through all the way. I am sorry if I have offended anyone, but this is my place. Yes, I probably should have read what I wrote before posting it and maybe explained myself a little bit better, but I didn't. Because this is therapeutic and it helps my shattered heart. I write what I need to write and if you don't like it then stop reading, because obviously even though you are on my "team" you aren't really on my team. 

Sorry for that little tangent my darling girl. I'm worn out tonight, emotionally. I need to lay on the couch and lose myself in mindless TV. I love you so much. Oh, before I go let me tell you what your sister said to me today. It's been a hard day. We were driving to the store when I suddenly had a cry attack. It started out quiet but quickly turned into heaving sobs and huge crocodile tears. Lyvi, being the sweet little thing she is, told me to calm down. "Calm down mommy. Stop crying. It ok, Baby Vi in the stars." I'd be so lost without her. Stay close to her please. I miss you my fat baby, I love you. Wait for me, let's go to the stars. 

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. 

Feeling detached

I've been feeling pretty disconnected lately. I'm in this weird spot of being really really sad, yet still functioning. I just avoid all the things that trigger me to really realize that this happened. So, I get up, feed Lyvi breakfast, eat my eggs and drink an obscenely huge cup of coffee, get us ready, and leave the house. I find any excuse to leave because being here makes my realize Violet is missing. Sure, she's missing from my car, from the shopping cart, from the stroller, from my person (meaning she isn't on me in the Moby wrap or Mei Tai) etc etc. But, her absence is most noticeable at home. Everywhere in this house is a memory of her. My bed is where she slept every night. My couch is where I spent countless hours nursing her. The toy room is where I would sit with her and play with Lyvi, or where Lyvi would jump around and make her laugh. The bathroom is where I would sit her in her rocker chair while I tried to get ready, and where I gave her baths. Lyvi's room is where I would get her changed into her jammies at night, or rock her in the glider, or lay her in the crib for a little nap while I tried to shower, or let her roll around on the ground, or let her play with Lily. The kitchen table is where her bouncy chair always was, she despised that damn chair. Everywhere I look is a place she once was. Even this damn computer chair. I sat her and Lyvi in it and took a picture of them in outfits for our first (and only) family pictures. And, I rocked her in this chair a lot in the last few weeks. She is missing from this house. So, I detach myself. I leave. I try not to be here alone at all. I just feel disconnected. It makes my life harder trying to be away from home as much as possible with my almost 3 year old. Toddlers do not function like well behaved human beings in public for long. It doesn't take long before she is sprawled on the floor like a rabid animal, foaming at the mouth and screaming like a banshee. It's a lot of fun. 

It's almost been 3 months. I am not any closer to feeling "ok" about any of this. 3 months is such a small amount of time. In case any of you are wondering, I am not ok. I am not "over this" or "through this." I still have a lot of trauma and grief and shock. I still need to talk about what happened. I still say morbid awful things. I still need you to check in, ask how I am, and honestly want to know. If I tell you I'm awful, I want you to understand. I don't want you to tell me this will get better. I don't want anyone to tell me it's time to start moving forward. I would still love to hear memories you have of Violet, or see pictures you have of her. I want to hear how sad you are, how much you miss her, how this has affected your life. Even if you didn't see her often, or even if you never met her. It means a lot, A LOT, to know her life affected others. Even if only her death brought her into your life. I desperately need to know that she made an impact and that even though she hasn't been alive for just about 3 months, people are still thinking of her. I need to know that I am not the only one still sad about her tragic, awful, untimely, useless, terrible, wretched, unthinkable, preventable, traumatic, abrupt, chaotic, pointless, heartbreaking, soul-crushing death. I just need to know that she's still here, even though she isn't here.

Hey baby love. I miss you. I am so ready to move into the new house, but I am still so scared. I don't know how I am going to react leaving the last place you ever lived. I know we need to get out of here, but I don't know if I am really truly ready. I don't think one can ever be ready to leave the last place their child was alive. I just have to bite the bullet and do it. This is a sad house. I think I will have a hard time being in the extra room at the new place because that should be your room. I think I'll avoid that room for awhile. I just miss you. I know I look ok and am functioning this week, but it's just a show. You know my mind is an ongoing catastrophe. I just miss you. I love you. Wait for me let's go to the stars.