Worry

Let me preface this post by saying, I've never before feared nothing and everything at the same time. It's an odd and annoying feeling to fear nothing and yet be worried by everything. It's very peculiar. 

I worry about stupid things and don't fear things I used to dread. Like needles. I was that kid who had to be pinned down by 5 nurses in order to get a shot. The thought of needles would make my stomach curl and my head light. Never would I have donated blood or go to acupuncture. Yeah acupuncture. I actually did that. I think she put around 20 needles in my abdomen and legs and I didn't bat an eye. 

No fear compares to losing a baby, except one. The thought of losing another baby. That fear paralyzes me and causes me to wake up in the night sweating. It has been hard enough to lose one baby, but to lose two seems unbearable. Yet, some people have learned to carry that burden. I don't know how. I don't know how I'm surviving now. 

It's this feeling of inadequacy of not being able to give birth to a living baby that has me overly sensitive to some things or people. This feeling is what's causing my anxiety and it sucks. I constantly question everything I do. I have this open wound where my heart should be and I'm waiting for it to scab over. Except in the meantime, the parasitic feeling of worry is eating at the wound, forcing it to grow bigger. That's why I'm irritated. That's why my shoulders carry the burden and stress of my feelings. That's why I can't relax or breathe or even get pregnant like I want. It's all consuming. 

I've decided to take control of my anxiety. I have a new therapist, started seeing an acupuncturist, and treated myself to a massage. I want my mind and body to be ready to give my all to my next pregnancy and my next baby, no matter the outcome. 

Donation

Dear Eve, 

I can't help but think about your godmother's speech at your memorial. She said she would teach you about giving back to others. She's a very good example of that because she volunteers for a crisis hotline and works with foster children. 

Your dad and I give back in our own ways too. Your dad donates blood and I decided to crochet hats for other stillborns and donate them to the hospital where you were born. We both always donate to the kitties at Pet Smart. 

You may not be here physically, but you give back to me and your dad through little messages and incidents. That is what gives us the courage and inspiration to give back in your name.  

As I wrote you before, I decided to crochet baby hats for the stillborns at our local hospital. I have over twenty hats so far. I plan to wash them in baby detergent and seal them so the mothers can have a smell to remember their babies by. I'm going to call them Genevieve's Gifts, unless you inspire me to come up with another name. 

Every message you send, fills me with joy. I'm excited for your next message and hope it will be soon. I love you and miss you always. 

Love,

Mommy

Yesterday

Dear Eve Believe, 

I know you were with me last night. I saw Theresa Caputo, the Long Island medium. There was a point where she was listing off facts from several stories. She said the numbers 3 and 17 appeared and the organs filled with fluid and someone dropped dead. She was describing you and Grandma Muggy. I know you are together. 

I got your message after the show too. I felt like you were saying, " mom, I don't need a medium to talk to you. I do it all the time." I know you told me that. I love you. Maybe I was crazy for going. I don't know. I'm glad I went. 

Your garden is growing wonderfully. I'm so proud. Your daddy is helping me with it. It's going to look awesome!  

I love you so much. I will love and miss you always. 

Love always,

Mommy

Easter

Dear Genevieve Pearl,

On Friday, you would have been 4 months old. Of course I forgot on the day and so I feel like a terrible mother. In some ways, I think you would have preferred I forgot the months. I know you want nothing but happiness for me, just as I want the same for you. 

Today is Easter and I so would have put bunny ears on you. I would have made you a ridiculously large Easter basket that you wouldn't have appreciated and painted Easter eggs that you probably wouldn't be able to hold. I'm not sure what you can do at four months and I haven't looked it up because I know it will only bring me pain to do so.  We would have had a wonderful Easter.  Instead I will be spending it working in the garden and watching Alice in Wonderland. 

I saw you today. I went out to water the garden and there you were. I don't recalling seeing the little flowers yesterday when I watered the plants. I know it was you. You knew I needed a little reminder that we are never truly apart and there it was, in the form of tiny white flowers. Thank you. 

I hope you have a wonderful Easter with Jesus. Give Grandma Muggy and Aunt Darlene a hug and a kiss. I love you and miss you always. 

Love,

Mommy

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