21 Days

I went to visit your grave yesterday, JoSuelynn. It was 3 weeks to the day since you were born. It’s still so fucking fresh at times, it takes my breath away. Its hard to think of, the fact that you aren’t here. I had no inkling that I might not get to hold you in my arms at this point.

I worried and fretted over things before you arrived, like how was I gonna breastfeed and return to work? I knew that I was supposed to go back to work when you were 6 weeks old, and I worried about the scheduling, and I worried that you would be entering a growth spurt and need me, and I worried about whether you’d be sleeping through the night by then, and I hoped that our bf relationship would go smoothly, and I hoped that while I worked, that you’d mostly sleep while I was gone, and that I wouldn’t have to pump at work, and that we could avoid you bottle feeding as much as possible.

I so enjoyed sending out the “no baby yet” emails, and I had hoped to continue the emails after you were born with your milestones. Or better yet, be so busy being your mama that I didn’t have time to send them out. I’d take that guilt any day over the guilt I have now.

I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop. Wondering what is going to happen to me next. Who am I going to lose now? This abject hurt and loss I feel only seems to intensify, the more I realize how much I have lost. No first Christmas, no smiles, no kisses, no hugs, no coloring on the wall, no wondering if you’ll love barbies like your Aunt Sue did, or if you’ll be a wicked little tomboy, no wondering if you would have loved the noise and speed of those kiddie minibikes, would you have enjoyed riding passenger on a motorcycle, would you be a goth-loving teenager, or a cheerleader, or something in between or a total dork like I was? What else does god want to take away from me? Who else?

I worry so much that you were hurting in there. I read the prelim autopsy report, and I see the injuries listed from the cord strangulation. Oh, please I hope it was quick. I’m completely distraught when I think of the pain and fear you must have suffered- I wish I could have taken it from you. If I could have traded places, I would have, baby girl. I would have gladly died for you. If only I could have. I miss you, but I think this would be a better place with you in it, rather than me. I just spread sadness outwards from me. I told my therapist that I live in the “house of sad”, and that I’m bringing my family down into this black place with me. Her eyes welled up with tears, but she didn’t correct me, as everyone else does. It’s such a relief to be able to talk freely about you to someone, someone who doesn’t try to fix me.

I love you so much. This life is just miserable without you.

December 12, 2008