Mean Body

Dear Genevieve,

I thought for sure I was pregnant. I thought for sure you were going to be a big sister. I thought for sure this was going to be the month. 

I was late. I was get nauseous. I was using the restroom frequently. All of the signs were looking good. All of the signs were pointing to me being pregnant. 

Until today. Today all of that was shattered. All of my hopes and dreams for the future of the potential baby came to an end. It feels like failing. I feel silly for evening hoping or dreaming I was actually pregnant. Of course it wouldn't happen for me. 

I love you, and I want you to be a big sister. I want to be a mommy to a baby I can hold too.

The inbetween is so hard for me.  I don't know what I can do differently.  I feel so hopeless.

None of this is your fault.  I love you now and always.

Love,
Mommy

Good Friday

Dear Genevieve,

Today is Good Friday, the day Jesus died, and for once I want to go to church.  I want to hear how God handled his death, but I must admit, in all fairness, when Jesus died, he went to be with God and when you died, you did not go to be with me.  Which makes me wonder, wouldn't Jesus' birth be harder for God than his death?  It must have been very difficult to have a child born, knowing he was going to die horrible death.

I think, in part, I want to go to church today because I want to hear the part of the story where Jesus asks God why he has forsaken him.  I can relate to Jesus in the way.  I often wonder the same thing.  Why am I forsaken?  Today I learned that a one of the people in the support group I went to a year ago had a baby and another one is pregnant.  There were 6 couples, including us, that were in this support group, and only your daddy and I don't have a child to hold or are pregnant.   Why am I forsaken?

When I hear this news, Eve Believe, it is so confusing.  I feel happy, jealous, angry, guilty and sad all jumbled into one.  I am happy for them, but I feel left behind and I am jealous because I wonder why isn't this happening for me?  Then I feel angry because it hasn't happened for me yet, and then I immediately feel guilty and sad that I feel anger and jealousy in the first place?  Why can't I just be happy?  Why do I have to feel those other things?  Maybe that is why I am not pregnant because it is hard to feel happy when I first hear about other people getting pregnant, even loss mothers like me.  Maybe I'm not good enough to have a living baby.  I don't know.  I want to think I am good enough, but isn't that arrogant to think?

Recently, someone told me that I have gotten myself comfortable in the anger stage of grief.  I wish it were that easy to have stages of grief.  Then I could just move on to the next one, no big deal.  But grief is much like all the those feelings when I hear someone is pregnant or had a baby.  It is like a kid took a crayon and drew a big scribble mark, chaos.

I wonder if that is how Jesus felt when he knew he was going to die or if that is how God felt when Jesus died or was born.  I wonder if I will find the answers I am looking for in this church service.  I don't know what else is wrong with me that I am not getting pregnant and it leaves me asking, "Why am I forsaken?

I love and miss you always.

Love,

Mommy

The Closet

Dear Genevieve, 

I started to clean out the closet of what would have been your nursery. I put off doing it for 15, almost 16 months, and I had this lingering feeling that it was time to start organizing it. Today I went into the nursery and put the yarn blocking the closet into the crib that was meant for you. Then I opened the closet door and proceeded to take the clothes meant for you off the hangers and pack them away. 

As I took off little outfit after little outfit, I thought about how these clothes didn't touch your skin. I thought about how I had picked out many of those clothes over a year ago and I would never get to see you wear them. I took the Illinios outfit off the hanger and remembered how I wanted to do a family picture of us all wearing our Illini gear. Tears rolled down my face as I thought about how we would never get to take that picture. I thought about all the things we wouldn't get to do together. 

The past week or so, I have been scaring myself. I read an article about reliving the beginning grief with a new baby. It terrifies me and of course I put myself in my own personal hell. I'm not pregnant and already I have myself scared about having a rainbow baby. I was afraid I would resent a rainbow baby for not being you. I asked other loss moms about their experiences with their rainbows and how they felt after. What I've learned: the feelings are complicated.  I created this fear in my head that I wouldn't be happy with a rainbow because I would go back to the raw, scary place I was in right after you died.  As much as I love you, I really don't want to go back there. 

So as I folded the tiny clothes I had hoped you would wear, I started to wonder if I would ever get to bring home a baby. The thought of your daddy and I not getting to raise and hold a living baby was unbearable. After I folded all that my heart would allow, I went into my room and cried. Eventually your daddy went in there to comfort me. And that's when the lightbulb went off. That's when it all made sense. Resenting your sibling for not being you would be similar to resenting you for dying. It hurts. A lot. But I could never resent you for it. I will love a new baby and ache for your simultaneously. I'm sure it will be bittersweet. And I'm sure at first it will be more intense until I cope with it. 

I know I can do it. I'm ready to. 

I love you and miss you always. 

Love,

Mommy

Be Mine

Dear Eve,

Tomorrow is Valentine's Day and I want you to be my valentine. I want to kiss your cheeks and watch you sleep in my arms and for you to be mine. 

You will always be mine. You will always be our eldest daughter, our first born, and no one can ever take that away. In that sense, you'll always be ours. It just hurts that you can't be physically ours. Not that it's your fault, it just is. 

I read this quote on Pinterest where someone said they hoped babies that are aborted or die go to mothers in heaven who died in childbirth so they could hold a baby. I found it horrifying. I couldn't image you being with a different mother and her pretending you were hers. I image you are with my Grandma Muggy, you're namesake, and with Jesus. Or I imagine you're with other angel babies watching over me. I imagine you tell them I'm yours, just like you'll always be mine. 

When I die, I imagine you'll be given to me again and we will be together with your daddy. Our family finally complete. 

I hope you know how much I love you and how much I think of you. How much I cry for you and how I think of you and feel happiness, not just sadness. 

I hope you'll be my valentine this year. 

I love you and miss you always. 

Love, 

Mommy

Tragically Beautiful

Dear Me, 

Did you ever think you would be at the point where everything horrid and beautiful would be so intertwined that it's hard to tell the two apart? Did you ever think your life would be like this? Short answer no. But it is. 

I think about my life and how it is this beautifully tragic balance of life and death. I made this calendar of my little family and it of course had pictures of Genevieve surrounded by pictures of the husband and I smiling or funny pictures of our animals. I think about how the only real pictures I have of Genevieve are after she passed and how beautifully tragic those are too. This is our life, her death and our continued life interwoven in this web of delicate design. 

I never would have thought of death as beautiful until I met Genevieve. Her cute chubby cheeks and her sweet face will always be perfect in a shade of sepia to hid the fact she was red when born and started to turn purple later on. She will remain perfect forever, never able to sin or make mistakes. She's the epitome of perfection and the cost of that perfection is death. And though she is dead, it doesn't take away how tragically beautiful she is, it's her. 

And so I ponder my life and this delicate web it has become. Life and death are placed on this intricate balance without one side teetering an inch. My life, my family, has this one member missing and yet, I feel that maybe she never left. The scale it can go one way or the other, but it doesn't.  It just is. Like life, it just is. 

And this whole time I find it logically intriguing and emotionally exhausting, but it is mine all the same. 

Sincerely,

Me

Getting pregnant

Dear Universe, God, What Have You,

Trying to get pregnant sucks. I want you to know that. I want you to know I've been trying for a year and I find it infuriating and frustrating that I'm not pregnant. 

I lost my first baby, I should get a free pass on this because I've been through enough. But I don't and I find it incredibly annoying. I hate this. Are you listening world?! I.FUCKING.HATE.THIS!! It's bullshit. I'm mad and frustrated and if another person tells me to relax, I might throat punch him. 

I am doing everything I am supposed to do. I've lost over 10 lbs, I'm eating healthy, I exercise, and I take my prenatal. The husband is healthy so I don't get it. I just don't get it. 

I'm going to be a kick ass mom to a living baby because I'm already a kick ass mom to my dead one. Genevieve made me a better person and I love her for it every day. I wish it turned out differently, but I can't change that and now I am ready for a new little life to love, cherish, and teach. 

I am so ready. I'm so ready I'm annoyed. Trying to get pregnant is the perfect trifecta of helplessness. First you wait to ovulate, then you wait the two week wait until you test to see if you're pregnant, and then if it is negative you wait for your period to show. Then it cycles. It's been cycling for a year now. So what the hell body? What the hell universe? What the hell god? It only took 4 months to get pregnant the first time. 

 

I am ready to be knocked up. Please do this in a timely fashion. Thank you. 

Sincerely,

The willing participant who wants to be nauseous, moody, have back and rib pain, and all other terrible pregnancy symptoms to take home a happy and healthy baby

Birthday

Dear Eve,

I'm turning 29 soon. I'm turning 29 in 15 days to be exact. And I'm not exactly sure how that happened. I was supposed to be 29 with an almost 15 month old in my arms. We both know that won't happen. If I could just hold you one more time, I would never let go. I would hold you and hold you forever. 

What I realized is that if I don't get pregnant by June, I won't have a baby by 30. I don't know why that gives me pause. I know it's just a number and that I'll still be a good mother even if I have my first living baby at 30. 

I don't know why it even bothers me. It seems so silly.  I don't feel 29, I don't feel like any age. It's like I just am. 

I've been thinking about this long and hard and I've decided that whatever age I am ill still be a good mom. I'll be able to provide for a baby much better in my 30's than in my 20's. I'll be able to give your brother or sister a better life than what I would have, had I had a baby in my early 20's. 

I think whenever I have a baby, I'll be so excited and grateful, no matter my age. I'll appreciate him or her that much more because I've waited so long. You'll have a part of it. Your brother and sister will be so loved and cherished since I didn't get to love on and cherish you the way o would like or the way you deserve. I try to do the best I can, but it's hard not getting to hold you and do all those things mommies get to do. But I promise you, no matter my age, I will do those things for your brother or sister. I know I will feel your love through them as you feel mine. 

But in order to get to that place, can ya help your mom out with getting me pregnant?  ;) I love you and miss you always. 

Love,

Mommy