Losing

Part of the loss of a child that no one tells you about is the loss of everything else. Of course, people don't like to talk about the loss of a child either. It makes them uncomfortable. The fact of the matter is, kids die, babies die, people in general die, and some day we all will die. Not talking about it doesn't prevent it from happening, it isolates those of us who must deal with the grief. 

I didn't just lose Genevieve, I lost my innocence, friends, family, my faith was shook to its core, and I lost me. I'm not the same person I once was, I'll never be that person again. That person was pre-Genevieve and I don't want to be her again. I want to love my sweet girl. I want to be her mommy, even if that means I will forever walk this earth with holes left in my heart in the shape of her footprints. 

I am trying to decide what person I would like to become. I could be bitter. That would be easy. I'm already angry, but I'm also stubborn and I don't think letting anger define who I am will help anyone. It is not how I would want Genevieve to live. I don't want her to watch me from heaven and feel guilty that her mommy had become a monster. 

However, I will forever be skeptical and wait for the other shoe to fall. I'm not going to appreciate being told to relax because the worst possible thing has already happened to me. My daughter died. Of course, it's nearly impossible for me to be optimistic. I know I don't need other people to make me feel guilty for being worried because that's not going to help me. 

So I lay here with all these thoughts floating around my head. I sit here and think of all the things I've lost since losing her.  I can't say I was ever happy-go-lucky, but I definitely lost my innocence. I can see the world for what it is, ugly. People are cruel, and a lot of them want to make themselves feel better because I'm in pain. They say what makes them feel good about the situation I'm in and it leaves me feeling angry. It's frustrating to have to go through this and people say the wrong things. All for the sake of cheering me up. I don't want to be cheered up, I want to be accepted. I want my pain to be acknowledged and for people to know I'm pissed and this fucking sucks. 

The hubby and I each had 5 people stand up for us at our wedding. Out of those 10 people, 6 showed up and one had to be kicked out for bring his infant daughter. Those other 4 are no longer our friends and there is no chance for redemption. Our best man, who brought his baby, is no longer our friend and we will not have anything else to do with him. I feel awful for my husband that his best friend did this to him. The loss of friends is not something we thought we'd endure when losing a baby. 

Several members of my family didn't come to Genevieve's memorial and I do not plan on talking to them any further. If you will not stand with me at my worst of times, you do not get me in my best of times. We've also had to cut out my parents in law, specifically, my mother in law. She refused to acknowledge our daughter or say her name. She was manipulative towards her son, my husband, and shared intimate details about her other child just so she wouldn't have to say Genevieve's name.  If she didn't want to be a grandma to Genevieve, we don't need her being one to future babies. Our children need people to be there for them and love them in their worst of times, not only their best of times. 

This journey has infinitely put a line throughout the world. Us and Them. There are Us who have lost our most precious children and Them who have not. None of Us want Them to become one of Us. We don't want to be Us. We want to be Them. 

Then there are those people who are Them and cross the line over to Us to bring us some kind of comfort. Those people are truly beautiful because to do so means they have to leave the safety of Them and travel to the ugly side of Us. They don't do it to make themselves feel better like many of Them, but to listen to our cries of injustice, to sympathize and grieve with Us. Those are the wonderful human beings I choose to keep in my life. They will be my new family and friends. I choose to keep the positive and get rid of the negative because I've already loss too much and don't have time for those who only want me and my family when we are at our best. 

I know Genevieve and God are pushing these people into my life. They know I need the good Thems. They know the hubby and I can't do this alone. They are also pushing more Us our way.  Those of Us we have met, are a godsend. I'm so thankful to have other people in my life who truly know what I am going through. They help pick me up when I am down and offer advice and support when I truly need it. It sucks that there are so many of Us out there. Babies shouldn't die, and parents shouldn't had to make funeral arrangements for their kids. 

Unfortunately, we all die. Some of us way too soon and the rest of us are here to pick up the pieces. 

Nursery

Dear Genevieve,

I went into your nursery today. I sometimes like to go in there to be close to you. I will touch your blanket and christening gown. I smell the hat that you wore on your head. I hug your urn and tell you how much I love you. I always feel like you say you love me too. Sometimes I go in there and just cry. 

Today, I went into the closet to look for yarn for a baby hat I'm making for the baby I asked you to look over. I've been in the closet before and I've seen and touched your things in there. This time I had move bedding to get to the yarn. This time, I broke down seeing your things. This time, it was hard. 

The last couple of days have been very hard. I miss you more and more every day. I love you more and more each day, and I love you significantly more than I miss you. 

I decided to make a blanket for a future rainbow baby. I have mixed feelings about it. I almost feel like I'm saying goodbye, but I could never do that to you. I love getting your messages and I want you to continue to do that for me. I also want to have a living child and I need hope. I know you want that for me too. I wish and would do almost anything for you to be my rainbow baby, but I know that won't happen. 

Just know that no other baby could replace you. You're my special Eve Believe and I love you with all of my soul. I love you with every essence of my being and I will continue to for all my life and there after. You will forever be my perfect child. 

I love you and miss you always. 

Love, 

Mommy

Dear God II

Dear God,

The first letter I wrote you was very angry. However, I know you have broad shoulders and can handle anything I dish out. I know you expect me to be pissed and love me anyway. You can keep on loving me and I will keep being pissed. 

I'm not as angry as I was in my first letter. I'm coming to grips that this happened to me. I'm still broken hearted and I know that I will always be missing a piece, but I am learning to live with it. 

I have to say that I get angry when I read other people write on Facebook how you've blessed them and wonder why I wasn't blessed with my baby. I don't feel blessed, I feel like I'm the butt of a giant joke. I don't understand why she had to die. It makes no sense to me and I'm coming to terms with the fact that it probably never will. 

I can't say I'm at the point of forgiveness and I don't know if I will ever get there. I am getting to acceptance. That may be the closest I get to it. I can also say I still love you, but I'm so hurt by you taking my baby. I would have been so happy with just having Genevieve. I miss her so much. Sometimes I think I will drown in my tears. 

I feel like my soul is dark.  Not that I'm turning evil, but that the curtain has been pulled from my eyes and I see all of the injustices of the world. Sometimes I think it would be easier to just be evil. It seems like good things happen to bad people anyway.  

I won't turn evil, I can't. I care too much. I'm sure you already know that. 

I'm at a point where I want to get pregnant again. I'm petrified. I wonder if I'll get my rainbow baby and I'm sure when I do get pregnant, I'll be scared if I will get to keep my rainbow baby. I don't know if I can handle losing another baby. 

I need to know I'll be okay. I need to know that I can carry a baby to term and give birth to a living baby. I need to know that I will survive this and will get to be a mommy to a living baby. I need to be healed. Most importantly, I need to know you still love me and your taking care of my sweet girl. 

Sincerely,

One sad momma

The Memorial

I haven't written about the memorial until now because I haven't been ready to put my fingers to the keys. The memorial was healing in many ways and eye opening in others. 

I went in front of the congregation, family and friends and declared my love for my daughter. It is incredibly empowering to cry out about the injustice of losing my baby and for people to not just hear me, but to really listen. Her daddy and I played her song, "Loud Like Love" by Placebo for everyone. I thought the song would bring tears to my eyes and was completely relieved how happy I felt listening to it. I imagined her rocking out with her new angel baby friends like she did in my belly whenever we played it. 

I was touched by the amount of people who came to her memorial. I had pictures of her in a photo album I put together and everyone looked at her little face and commented on how beautiful she looked. In those ways, it was incredibly healing. 

In other ways, my eyes have been opened to how incredibly cruel people can be when you least expect it. Genevieve's daddy's best friend brought his infant daughter to the memorial service. He was asked on multiple occasions to not bring her, and he did. It felt like being slapped in the face. During her daddy's eulogy, the baby started to fuss. Her fuss was taunting us as a constant reminder that we would never hear our baby make those sounds. It was horrible. Genevieve's God Mother asked them to leave after I had enough. The couple didn't even realized how disrespectful bringing a baby to another baby's memorial is to the dead baby's parents. It is even worse when the parents specifically asked for them to not bring their baby.  

After the memorial, the "friend" told us that he was sorry for leaving early, but the baby was fussy. We were shocked that he was so dense to not understand why we were upset. Genevieve's daddy swiftly pointed out that him leaving was for the best since we were horrified he brought his daughter to our daughter's memorial. They haven't talked since. It's difficult enough to lose a child, it's even worse that we lose friends and family members over it too. 

I was also horrified to hear one of the two pastors tell everyone that Genevieve and I both had hepatitis. I don't have hepatitis, and Genevieve didn't have hepatitis. I don't have a reason as to why she died, but it definitely wasn't because of hepatitis. Now many of my friends and family think I have hepatitis and that's why she died. Fun. It was like a scene out of a bad sitcom. 

I love my baby, and her daddy and I honored her, even if others didn't.  I suppose this is all part of the grief journey I must travel. 

Baseball

Dear Genevieve,

Today I am going to a baseball game with your Grammie. This is something your grandpa should be going to, but being that he does not live here, I'm going. Your Grammie has done a lot for me since you've died and I figured I would go with her to this so she wouldn't have to go alone.  If you would like to do your mama a favor, encourage your grandfather to move his butt down here. 

I've been missing you like crazy. I wish I could revisit the day I gave birth to you and I wish the years would go by quicker so that I can be with you again. I know each day I survive is one day closer until I see your beautiful face again. Life is so hard now that you're gone. 

Your daddy and I are going on a mini vacation this Thursday and Friday. Please help me have the strength to not be bothered by all of the families at the theme parks we are going to those days. I sometimes feel like I'm leaving two lives, and that somewhere in a bizarre-o world, I didn't lose you and I would be holding you and kissing your cheeks. Then there's this world, where I'm without you. For example, today I would rather be up all night with you and cuddling you, than going to a baseball game. 

I love you and miss you always. 

Love, 

Mommy

Violet

Dear Genevieve,

I think of you all the time, but when I try to put pen to paper, or in this case, fingers to iPhone screen, I'm not sure what to write. I figured I would write about Violet. 

Even though you are no longer with me, I am still amazed by you. I love all of the little signs you give me. I am making a garden in your honor and I wanted to paint the pallets for it blue. However, once I got to Lowes, I suddenly felt I should paint the pallets purple. You led me right to the Serious Violet color. I couldn't believe the odds so I pulled out all of the other cards like a lunatic and it was the only color with the name Violet in that section. I knew that color was you telling me you knew about the future baby name and that you approved. 

I was even more amazed when you guided your dad to the "believe" necklace  with a flower that was almost exactly the same color as the Serious Violet color.  I hope you are meaning that you want me to try again for a baby because that's how I took it. I took it as your approval. No baby could ever replace you. I miss you every day. I wish I could get pregnant again and it would be you in my tummy. I love you and miss you always.

Love,

Mommy