Saturday, May 29, 2010
Sitting here, on the deck at the St.Lawrence River, with all the people we spend several summer weekends with... I start to wonder, when are they going to ask about her? That's when I realized, they didn't even know I was pregnant. I got my BFP (big fat positive) mid-September. After Labor Day, after we packed up for the winter. They didn't even know I was pregnant, let alone about us losing Aurora.
Part of me wants to shout it out!! I HAVE A DAUGHTER WHO IS IN HEAVEN! I want them to know about her, because I want to talk about her. She deserves to be known up here, because this is our special place.
I still can't help but wonder, would she be a river rat like me? Could she spend all day on the water like I could? Would she enjoy fishing as much as I do? Would she lay and watch the stars at night, thinking about what is really out there? Would she have enjoyed the river as much as her father and I do?
Once I start to feel empty inside again, it brings it all back. This wasn't all a dream, this was real..... Aurora is real. Aurora is really gone.
I go between those two feelings. A dream and the emptyness. I cannot seem to find that happy medium. Maybe in time.
Monday, May 24, 2010
It all seems so final now. Aurora has been "buried" in the columbarium at the church I grew up in since April 26th. 4 weeks without a name plate. Nobody but us, and our family knew she was even in there. Now, whenever anyone goes to visit their loved ones... they will see her. They will know that she's there.
It seems to finalize things. She's really in there. She's really gone.
Her name plate is beautiful though! I was so happy that they were able to put in her middle name. All of the other names have just the middle initial, but her middle name was such a part of her. I just love to see her name in writing. It also seems to finalize things that she was real! Aurora was real. Aurora is real. And that means so much because lately things have seemed like a dream.
Mommy and Daddy love you Aurora.
Sunday, May 23, 2010
When your child dies,
it is not fair.
The hopes and dreams you plotted so carefully
You feel everything,
well-meaning words are salt in the wound.
You feel like you will never laugh again.
Sometimes, you can't think of happiness without her.
Your raw emotions burn inside
where she once was.
Your heart tugs
where she still is.
You do not want pity.
You do not want to be placated.
You do not want to forget
and you do not want her to be forgotten.
You look at the pictures
and the clothes
and the toys
and the soft blanket you bought when your stomach was still
full of life.
And you cry.
You think with desperation
on the all too brief moments she was in your arms.
The delicate fingers.
The curve of the nose.
If only you could have held her forever,
you would have without question.
If you could give anything and everything to have her again,
you would without hesitation.
You feel as though, someday,
everyone will forget
and you will be
alone in your pain.
But someone somewhere remembers.
Someone somewhere feels the heaviness.
Someone somewhere wipes away a tear
and whispers her name.
And in that moment,
I hope your heart feels it.
I know that somewhere,
she smiles on us all.
Somewhere, she smiles on her mother and father
who anxiously awaited her arrival
and who heaved great sobs in mourning.
Somewhere, she is loving her parents for loving her so deeply.
Someday, there may be another
who snuggles warm where she once did.
And she will smile on them
knowing that they will be loved just as deeply as she.
For now though, there are the memories
and there are the lessons
and there is the realization that
you have loved someone more than you ever knew you could.
Where she is not,
there is love.
Where she is,
there is love.
Rest in peace, sweet Aurora Rose.
You will be in our hearts and minds,
But for the second time in a month, I woke up and saw 4:21 on the clock. Thank you for that Aurora.
I welcome any and all signs from you. It gives me so much comfort to know you're talking to me too.
Saturday, May 22, 2010
I can honestly say, today was a 100% good day. I did not cry at all today, and honestly, i don't feel guilty. I thought the first day where I did not cry, i'd feel guilty. I'm glad that's not the case.
I think the part that made today a good day, was writing names of other lost angels in the sand. Jason and I went to the beach up here at the St. Lawrence River. Actually, this beach was in Lake Ontario... but who's really checking? As so many women have done for Aurora, I wrote the name of 30 beautiful angels in the sand. What a powering experience! There really are no words to describe it. As i sit here and try to put it into words, I just can't. There are no words to describe what I felt writing these angels names down. They are sons and daughters of amazing people who are all so strong. These 30 names are just some of the angels that have been lost in the past 6 months. Their mothers are just some of the women that i've connected with and that have helped me get through this most difficult time.
I thought about Aurora a lot today, and never did I need to cry. Never did I hold it down. I was able to smile, knowing that my daughter is loved.
I thank you for this good day. They are few and far between.
Friday, May 21, 2010
I do have to say, things have been slowly getting better since we lost you. The crying doesn't last as long, nor is it as loud. I can talk to you and there have been few moments where I smiled instead of cried.
But as your due date nears, I can't help but wonder if you would have been here or if you would still be baking. I personally think you would have been here, because 1 month ago you were absolutly perfect.
I'm sorry you had to spend so long inside, I regret not going to the doctor sooner. I should have gone when I didn't feel you move. But deep down inside I knew I had lost you, I just wish we knew why.
I miss you Aurora. I will always miss you. Daddy and I love you.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
While I was waiting for my interview, it became hard to breath and the tears were swelling up so much. I couldn't push those tears down like I normally do. I knew the minute I walked into that interview and saw one of the interviewers who I respect so dearly, I knew i'd see those eyes. Those sad eyes I get when people see me, and are reminded of all of the pain I am going through for losing you. I couldn't push down those tears, and alone in that huge room I sat waiting to get called in.
I asked you to give me strength. I needed the strength. But it wasn't coming. The tears still came, the breathing was still hard. I couldn't stop!
But when an interviewer came out to get me, I felt better. The tears stopped and I could breath. I walked into the room and saw those eyes from 2 of the women. The men hardly looked at me. I don't know if the men knew about losing you, but i do know for a fact that the women knew. I saw those eyes, and it did not bother me.
It was you. I know it was you. I asked you to give me strength and you gave it to me. Thank you so much. I was able to get through the interview without crying. I know i did not do my best, but I was strong, and that was all I needed. To get through without breaking down. I broke down afterwards, and that was ok. Because I was alone. And after a visit to you, I immediately felt better. The rest of the day was a good day.
So once again, I thank you for today. I miss you so much.
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
I wont lie, they are hard to look at. But i can't take my eyes off of them. It's my beautiful Aurora!
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
As I was walking out of the building, I started to cry. It wasn't because I was leaving my co-workers, it wasn't because of the kids. It was like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I no longer have to plan work for these kids. I no longer have to think about what to teach next. I no longer have to worry about these kids. Their regular teacher is back, and I no longer have the stress that comes with a group of students. So a huge weight lifted off my shoulders... and i could finally feel again.
The thing is. I didn't like what i was feeling. I felt everything. Every raw emotion that was only covered up by the stress of the class i was teaching. I could feel the emptyness and the worry. The daughter I longed for all of my life, with the name I choose over 10 years ago, is in heaven waiting for me. I am a mother, I have a daughter, and have nothing in my arms to show for it but grief. In my heart I have everything, and I can feel all of the joy and the sorrow. I can feel all of the fear. Will I get pregnant again? Will i be able to carry to term? Will I ever have a take home baby? Will I ever get a daughter that we always wanted?
I do not like feeling everything. I think that is one of the reasons why I went back to work so quickly in the first place. So now it's time to really cope, to really heal. This is going to be hard.
Auroras name plate is also in, and more questions are asked. Do we want to be there as it's being placed? Do we want to know when it's being placed and just show up afterwards? Or do we just want to show up someday and have it be there? More questions that we don't know how to answer! How would we feel? What do we want? What would be best for us?
These questions are so hard to answer! Especially when all the answers are obvious.
How would we feel? We feel like crap anyways, we feel empty and broken. So is this really going to make any difference?
What do we want? We want our little girl back. That's the studpidest question ever.
What would be best for us? The best would be to have never gone through this in the first place. The best would be to have our little girl in our arms right now.
We're going to ask to be there as it's being placed. I can't wait. She'll no longer just have an empty cover where nobody knows she's there. Auroras name will be there forever, and someday, i'll be on her left and my mother will be on her right. Surrounded by those who will love her forever.
I miss you Aurora. Even more today.
Monday, May 17, 2010
I've been asking for a sign that you are ok for a long time. My first and, at the time, only sign was when the clock was at 4:21am - your birthday 4/21 - when I woke up that morning. You knew that the clock birthdays are a big thing with me, and you knew that would be a perfect sign to give me on our first night back at home. But since then, I had received nothing from you, nothing that I could distinguish as a sign. I needed to know that you were doing ok. I needed to know that you are still fine.
Thank you for that penny today. Thank you Aurora for letting me know that you are still there and watching over us.
I would like to find a special jar that I can keep all of my pennies from heaven in, all of my pennies from you.
I miss you Aurora Rose.
Thank you for today.
Sunday, May 16, 2010
So what does a grieving mother need?
She needs hugs. When you see her, instead of looking at her with sad eyes, give her a hug and hug her as long as she needs.
Don't tell her that you're sorry. Tell her that you are there for her, and mean it.
Let her talk about her angel, and talk to her back. Talking about her angel makes the angel feel alive. When you walk on eggshells and never mention her name, it's like she never existed, and she was real.
If she starts to cry, do not back away. Do not say that you're sorry for the tears. The tears are good. Because the sadness will always be there, the tears will come no matter what.
If you have questions, do not be afraid to ask them. Losing a child is so hard for us to grasp, we understand that it's difficult for other people too. So ask questions.
If you are with her, and are having a good time, and she starts to cry out of the blue. Ask her what the trigger was and let her talk about it.
Do not be afraid to mention her angels name. That name is not taboo, that name makes her feel happy.
If you haven't noticed the trend, the biggest thing is to talk, to listen and to be there. That's what a grieving mother needs. Time will heal, but she will never forget. The hardest things is knowing that others will forget. Her child is real, and she will always be a mother.
Wednesday, May 12, 2010
I currently work in a very low income area school. Honestly, a lot of the parents do not care about their children, and it sickens me. How can these parents not give a damn about their kids? How can these parents not take care of their children? They don't care about taking them to school, or when they get there. They don't care to look in their backpacks or care how they are doing in school. They don't care about what their children walk to school in. Bottom line, they don't care. And they keep having children.
How is that fair? How is it that I would go to the moon and back for Aurora, I would care for her beyond anything! And I can't keep her. How is it fair?
At a staff meeting this afternoon, the principal was stating some of these facts about the parents of these children. She just continued talking.... "How can we get these parents to understand how precious their children are? How can we get them to see their babies? These are their babies!" And she just continued going and going. I almost walked out. I seriously almost stood up and walked out to go cry. I held back the tears. I held back the sobs. I looked down, took some sips of my water, and once she stopped talking I was finally ok.
I wanted to scream out. "Let them feel my pain! And maybe they'll understand." But i was surrounded by people I still do not really know. I've been in that school for 12 weeks now, but i'm still not comfortable around a lot of them.
I still want to scream out. TAKE CARE OF YOUR KIDS! LOVE YOUR CHILDREN!!! How can they take their lives for granted? How can they not love their children, and give them everything that they need. I'm not talking just money and possessions. I'm talking love, shelter, food, and more love.
How is it fair? How is any of this fair?
How is it that a mother, can smoke, drink and do drugs all throughout her pregnancy and have a healthy baby? How is it that this same mother can not take care of her beautiful child, to the point where she almost has frostbite? I haven't had to face this mother yet... but she's family... and i'll have to face her eventually. I'm afraid, if i'm not fully healed, that I will blow up at her. I'm afraid that even if I am healed, i'll blow up at her. I hate that this unfairness is right in my family.
I miss you Aurora. Please know i'd do anything for you. I love you Aurora Rose.
Monday, May 10, 2010
The one thing, i regret already is the photographer. I knew I wanted pictures of Aurora, because we can never go back to that time to get pictures, and like I knew I wanted to hold her. But they asked if we wanted pictures of us holding her. And I said no. It was too painful for me to think of that at that time. I haven't even recieved the pictures yet, and I regret not getting pictures of us with her... with the professional photographer that is. The nurses took a picture of Jason and I with Aurora on her digital camera, and I can't wait to get that. I can't wait to get all of my pictures. I made Jason call yesterday to see if they knew when we would get them. I need to see my girl again.
Another thing that I regret is going back to work. As much as I love those kiddos I'm currently teaching, and have really grown to like the school... it's too much for me. There's so much going on in my head that I can't be the best teacher i want to be. I thought that it'd be a good distraction from everything and really take my mind off of losing our daughter. It hasn't worked. Not one little bit. Instead I find myself walking on eggshells all day, and hoping that the kids don't say anything that'll make me break. There have been too many times i've shooed a kid away that wanted to share with me things about them, because I wasn't in a good mind. There have been so many mornings, like this morning, where I was crying in my classroom in the morning before I go pick them up, during lunch and during specials.
I was asked to work 4 weeks in a school that I love, in a grade that I love, and for a teacher who is very dear to me. But I honestly don't know if i can commit myself to work that long so soon again. I'll be working over my due date.... to work on my due date...... I don't think I can do that. If I cannot commit myself to every day during those 4 weeks, I don't think I should take that position. As much as i'd love to!!! I also have a doctors appointment during those 4 weeks, and I might be going to Syracuse during that time also. I just don't think I can do it. So I really think I should just go back to "choosing" when I work. Atleast until the end of the school year. As for the summer, we cannot financially do it if i don't work. And that stinks, majorly.
I regret not enjoying my pregnancy more. I remember during the first trimester, I told Jason that i wasn't sure if we'd have a 2nd child or not because of how awful of a time I was having. The morning sickness lasted so long, I couldn't take my pills without gagging, I couldn't smell or think about chicken at all! As my belly grew bigger, I hated it. I didn't enjoy my pregnancy enough. And now, I don't know if i can enjoy new pregnancy... because of the constant fear that something may go wrong again.
Something I don't regret is loving and taking care of Aurora. Even though I didn't enjoy my pregnancy, I loved my pregnancy, I loved Aurora. I still love Aurora, and miss her more every day. I never thought I could miss someone this much. I never thought, not in a million years, that i would ever have to miss my child, our daughter.
I love you Aurora Rose.
Sunday, May 9, 2010
I didn't really think today would bother me as bad as it has so far. I knew I needed to get away, and I wish the weather was nicer to where we could take the boat out or even enjoy just sitting on the deck looking over the water. But instead we're stuck inside because its 37 degrees out and that not counting the wind chill!!
But every little thing has reminded me that I am a mother to an angel. I have empty arms.
Happy Mothers Day to all you mothers out there who also have empty arms today.
Friday, May 7, 2010
Today was one of those days, however, that i'm not sure I could have talked about her to people I'm not comfortable crying in front of. It was not a very controlled day.
I think that the hardest things, is what i'm doing this weekend. I'm not home. I'm at the place I was looking forward to taking Aurora more than anything. The St. Lawrence River - The 1000 Islands. It feels good to get away from home. It feels good to get away from all that surrounds home. And as much as it feels good to be here, it hurts.
I've been coming to the 1000 Islands since I was born. Since I was born in November, i was more like 8 months when I first came to the Islands, but we never missed a summer here. We'd take our family vacations here, to the same campground, every summer. Some of those years we'd spend close to 2 weeks vacation camping on the river, taking the boat out, fishing, swimming and enjoying campfires and card games. My grandparents bought a place up here, where my grandmother spends all summer. And recently my parents took the place over. I was really looking forward to bringing Aurora to the river. I pictured her out in the boat, with the lifejacket we already have. I thought of her in the years to the future, swimming in the river, teaching her how to fish and how to never be afraid of worms. I thought about the French Festival that they have here every year. It's not that big of a thing, but it's something we've never missed. I pictured pushing her around in her stoller, and in the years watching the fireworks on the river from the boat, giving her the 1st french pastry, sitting and watching the play in the middle of town.
The river has so many special meanings to our family, we couldn't wait for Aurora to join us so we can show her all of the special things here. It was at the river that Aurora got her name. So many years ago, before I knew of Jason or even thought of having kids... i named her. I knew I wanted to name my daughter Aurora. It was the summer before my Poppy passed. My father, my grandmother and I were spending a few days up at the river. One evening, my father was outside watching the river when he saw something in the sky. He ran in to get us, to make sure he wasn't seeing things. And what we saw, was the Aurora Borealis. My father and I stood outside watching it for the longest time. It was such a great moment. Some people think Aurora was named after Sleeping Beauty, but she wasn't. She's named after the Aurora Borealis, something that I witnessed at the river.
All of this makes being here so difficult. But it does feel good to be away from home, and away from everything... and for some reason, it makes me feel closer to her here too.
Thursday, May 6, 2010
I talked about going to Syracuse for further testing. I talked about her delivery. I talked about how beautiful she was. And the thing I liked about it, is I didn't cry. It was nice to finally talk about her and my experience and smile. I don't know if it's because i'm not 100% comfortable around these co-workers. Or if i'm finally past all of the sadness when i speak of her, and can finally see the good. Aurora brought us so much joy. It feels wrong to cry about her sometimes.
At the same time, I felt guilty that I wasn't crying. I felt like I need to cry to fully mourn my daughter, and that sometimes, if i don't cry.... it's like i don't really care about her at all. I hate feeling that way, cause i know it's not true.
One of my co-workers today asked if I was ok, and wondered if I blamed myself. She of course, said it in a very very nice way. I told her how, strangly, I don't. I told her what i had written here, that I have the thoughts... but not the feelings. She said something that really hit me. I wish I could remember her exact words now. She said that it seemed like Auroras strength was inside me. That Aurora knew we didn't do anything to cause her death and she left her strength with me just to make sure I knew that. It really hit me. Aurora is with me, and always will be.
Wednesday, May 5, 2010
Mine is now one of them. Another small statistic.... 1 in 200 pregnancies end in stillbirth, and 1/4 of stillbirths are unexplained.
I honestly don't know how I feel about that. I'm devastated. I started crying right away while on the phone with my doctor. Nobody can give me a reason why my baby girl died. I need to know why. Maybe if I know why, I can prevent it from happening again. I can warn other people. I can have a peace of mind. But I don't have that. And i don't know where to go from here.
In a way, it is good that they couldn't figure it out. Meaning that all the things they tested for means it was a normal pregnancy and it can give me more hope for the future. There was nothing genetic, no virus, nothing harmful. She didn't lose circulation, nor did she really suffer. It's a good thing.
My doctor set the ball running for me to go to a clinic for high risk pregnancies an hour away from where I live. They'll test us out to see if they can determine anything for us. Then my OB will be right there with us when we start trying again. She'll be there for us step by step. I hate being considered high risk now. I see the good, more appointments and more ultrasounds. But i also see the possible bed rest looming.
I mean. We had no clue this was coming!! I was developing wonderfully, she was growing perfectly. I had only gained maybe 12lbs, blood pressure was great, and no protein in my urine. There were no warning signs.... so does this mean for the next one bed rest for all of 3rd tri in case it happens again??
I don't know what it means. I don't know what will happen. I just still, have no answers.
When we had Nick this past weekend, he hugged me out of the blue and said "Why did this have to happen to us? Why couldn't it have been someone elses baby?"
That first question, i ask myself too. But that second question is difficult for me to answer. I wish it didn't happen to us! But at the same time, I wish it didn't happen to anyone else. I don't want it to be someone elses baby either.
Someone said to me today, "There will be someone out there that will need you because you will understand their pain." and maybe that's why it happened. Jason, in response, said "You are so strong and caring, that someday when this happens to someone, you will be there and know exactly what they need." I am finding that there are so many people out there who don't understand, but i can be that person someday for someone. I am also finding too many people that this has happened to. I wish i could find someone who was as late as I was.... just to know that I'm not the only one.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Work has been one of the things that is so much tougher than I thought it'd be. I thought i'd get my mind off everything with going back to work. The thing is, it's not that easy. My mind still goes wild and off on it's own. Like today, while I was reading Hatchet outloud to my students. I forgot how my mind can do 2 things at once, because here I was reading aloud, and all I could think about was how Aurora was listening to me read part of this book every day... and how she'll never hear the end of the story. Luckily my kids go to special right after I read aloud, and I was able to have a good cry.
It's also hard seeing everyones faces. These poor people see me and don't know how to act around me anymore. They're cautious over what they talk about... i can see it, i can hear it in their voices! Their eyes tell so much, they see me and are reminded of what I went through. They look at me so sad, but also scared at the same time.
I can't imagine, most of them do say. I can't imagine most of the time myself. Sometimes i feel like, was i pregnant at all? Sometimes I think I really am still pregnant. You don't know how many times i've touched my belly these past 2 weeks!!!
I held back so many tears today!!!
I thought working would be easier. I didn't think i'd have to hold back as many tears as I had.
The first day back was so bad I had to go home after half a day. Holding back the tears wore me out, as well as the kids. Jason having surgery yesterday didn't help thing either.
Today the kids were better, so I think that helped. But things still wore me out with holding back the tears. Hopefully tomorrow things will get better.... and with each day i'm sure they will.
Monday, May 3, 2010
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now. Said I wouldn't call but I lost all control and I need you now. And I don't know how I can do without. I just need you now.
So needless to say, as soon as the song came on I immediately thought "Here's our song Aurora!" and went to sing it. I even touched my belly. Then it hit me. I couldn't believe I let myself do that. I should have turned the station, but i listened to the song... and sang the parts that now mean something to us.
I then thought about cashews. I honestly don't think i'll be able to eat cashews anytime soon. Before we knew Aurora was Aurora... we nicknamed her cashew. When we first found out we were pregnant and started telling people, someone said "Oh you have a little peanut." Jason looked at me and said "I don't like peanuts, i like cashews" and so cashew was her nickname.
It almost makes me wonder about how i'm going to be with my next pregnancy. Which yes, i'm already thinking about. I know i'm not going to replace her. I was just so mentally ready, physically ready, emotionally ready to be a mom, to have a baby. I know you think those things when you first start trying... Jason and I were ready a long time ago. We were always waiting for a job for me. Then when, about a year ago, I found out that the school district that i've been trying to get a job with was not hiring. That's when we decided to start trying to get pregnant. 4 months later we were. We were ready then.
But there's something totally different. The feeling you get the closer and closer and closer you get to having a child. I was 5 weeks away from my due date. I wanted her every moment. I wanted her every day more and more. I was so ready for a baby, so ready to be a mom. So yes, i'm already thinking about my second child.
I'm just thinking about the special things. The cashews and the songs. I know i'm going to be very scared with everything that i'm doing!! I'm going to be cautious about everything... not even going to eat heated up deli meat. No hot dogs, no dying of the hair, no none of those things that i'm not supposed to have. Even though the doctors say that they're ok in moderation. I know i'm going to be that way....
But those special things. The special things that make the pregnancy, well, special. The nicknames. The songs. Will I want to do those things? Will I feel right doing those things? Because... what if. What if this happens again?
I can't think that way. It's just so hard not to.
One day at a time as mom tells me.
First lets wait for the results of her autopsy and genetic testing to come in.
Then Jason and I need to get genetic tests done.
Then we need the A-ok from my wonderful doctor.
Then we need to wait, until we get pregnant again.
Then we can figure these things out. The nicknames. The special things. When to tell people.
One day at a time.
Sunday, May 2, 2010
I hate that I don't know when I'll feel better.
I hate that nobody really truly understands.
I hate that I have to wear a bra 24/7.
I hate that my maternity pants are the only pants that still fit me right now.
I hate that seeing a cute baby only reminds me of how beautiful Aurora was.
I hate that someday, they'll all forget while I will remember forever.
I hate the reason we've been getting sympathy cards.
I hate, even more, that the cards will stop coming.
I hate that I need to take a sleep aide in order to sleep at night.
I hate that I still have to take my prenatal vitamins.
I hate that I want to feel happy for all of the other pregnant women around me, and instead I just feel sad.
I hate that Tylenol doesn't take away all of the pain.
I hate that I can never hold my daughter again.
I hate that I need to see a genetic specialist.
I hate that I had to be that 1 in 200.
I hate that we may never know why Aurora died.
I hate that there will always be more things added to this list.
Oh yes you know I lost my child a while ago. No, no please. Don’t look away and change the subject, It’s ok. You see at first I couldn’t feel, It took so long, but now it’s real. I hurt so much inside you see, I need to talk, Come sit with me?
You see, I was numb for so very long, and people said, “My, she is so strong.” They did not know I couldn’t feel, my broken heart made all unreal.
But then one day, as I awoke I clutched my chest, began to choke, such a scream, such a wail, broke from me.. My child! My child!
The horror of reality. But everyone has moved on, you see,everyone except for me. Now, when I need friends most of all, between us there now stands a wall. My pain is more than they can bear, when I mention my child, I see their blank stare.
“But I thought you were over it,” Their eyes seem to say--No, no, I can’t listen to this, not today. So I smile and pretend, and say, “Oh, I’m ok”. But inside I am crying, as I turn away. And so my old friend, I shall paint on a smile, as I have from the start. You never knowing all the while, all I’ve just said to you in my heart.
A grieving mother
Saturday, May 1, 2010
I need to stop being so kind. I need to stop thinking about other people. It's hard, it's always been my nature. I start crying and I immediatly look at the people and say "I'm sorry". I've done that so many times this past week! Jason hates it that I still cry. I can tell that he wants to make it all better, but knows that he can't. It's just going to take time. And the thing is... it's not going to be any quick fix. I hope people will understand that.
I was always shy and quiet to begin with, but now i find myself totally not there at all. When i'm around people sometimes my thoughts take over and i drift into them. When I snap out of it, i find that the conversation has continued around me and I don't realize how long i've been out of it. I also find myself walking away from people when my thoughts take over my mind and I need to have a good cry. This is good, but I hate that I have to do it. I hate that I can't fully be there around people.
The way people look at me hurt. I can tell by their eyes that they want to help, they want to make the hurt go away, but they have no idea how! I have no idea how. The only way to make it go away is to bring her back. Let me wake up tomorrow morning and realize that this was all a bad dream. Let this just be a horrible nightmare to where I will never take the life we created for granted! I already knew that. I didn't need that lesson to be taught to me!
Every night when I go to sleep, I hope that I will wake up feeling Aurora kicking me in the bladder. And when i realize that this isn't a dream, it's like a punch in the gut all over again.
I am learning to control my tears. But there are still moments when they can't be held back anymore. There will always be those moments. I do not want to bring other people down. I do not want to be the Debbie Downer of the party. So let me have my moments. Let me cry. I will be ok.
This is the most beautiful thing i've seen. To see her name written out, in such beautiful handwriting. I have not changed the background on my computer in YEARS! I've had the same image since my bachelorette party 4 years ago. But i'm tempted to change it to this. I already changed my background on my phone, which was the same image as my computer.
Strangely, this image helps with my emptyness. All morning I was feeling empty again, until I downloaded this picture. Just looking at her name has made me feel 10 times better. I can't explain it.