It's going to take more than 1 mean comment to get me down so here we go...
I was on maternity leave for 6 weeks. For 6 weeks straight I wasn't away from Macie. She was with me every second of the day. She mostly slept, but I mostly just staring at her with amazement and was constantly dreading the day that I would have to return to work and take her to daycare. (Side note: I do love my job, but I didn't like that I had to be away from her.) I swear I slept with one eye open constantly watching her breath. When I was maternity leave 6 weeks seemed like it went by in a flash. Well now 6 weeks seems like forever. It has been 6 weeks today since Macie got her angel wings. 6 weeks since I have seen her or held her. 6 weeks since she was in the back seat in her car seat. It seems like it has been forever since I have seen or held my baby girl's hand. I still don't understand and can't comprehend the "fair" in all of this. To me it is unfair, unjust and just down right rude. Who takes a child from it's mother? That is a question no one can answer.
Tuesday's are hard on me. In fact so far I have relived that day every Tuesday since. I'm constantly glancing at the clock thinking in my head at this time I was doing this or at this time I was finding out this or the one that kills me is at this time this was happening and I had no idea anything was going on. I know this probably isn't healthy, but I can't help it. Replaying it is what I am doing now. At 4:20 every Tuesday I pause. It doesn't matter what I am doing I pause. This is the time the doctor said to me, "Your little girl passed away today." Nothing is as painful as hearing that the first time, but every Tuesday when I pause at 4:20 a little piece of me dies all over again. And when I pause and feel that pain the first thing I do is pray for God to give me strength to make it through. Strength is something I need.
I wouldn't call this a talent, but one thing I have always been able to do is shut down. I don't know if it is from playing sports or what. I can be crying inside, but somehow I can put a smile on my face and no one would know anything is bothering me. I feel like I'm crumbling on the inside and my world is shattered, but on the outside I can give the appearance of someone who isn't grieving. Like I said I would never call that a talent, but for some reason or another I am able to do it. That is part of the reason why this journal/blog is so important to me. I could never sit and talk to someone about any of this stuff because I would shut down, but I can write and I can say anything because I don't have to look anyone in the face and say it.
Well my fear of actually having to talk to someone is going to become a reality. March 31-April 2 Chris and I are going to attend a bereaved parent conference. There are a bunch of different workshops and speakers. I was leery of going because I didn't think I was ready to listen, but then it occurred to me... if I don't go now when will I? This is never going to get easier so I just need to jump in and get my feet wet. I'm hoping this conference gives me tools that I find helpful in surviving the loss of my baby girl. Right now I have no idea where to go from here so maybe this conference will give me a little piece of something that will show me where to go.
I don't ever want to get over this, that is not what I am saying. But I am hoping that one day I will think of Macie or I will see her video and I will get a huge proud smile on my face for being chosen to be her mother instead of the tears that have started to stream down my face again. Macie holds a place in my heart that only a child can and a hole has been left the size of a crater and it will never be filled until we meet again.
Some day baby girl we will be reunited.
We had this song sang at Macie's funeral and the words are so powerful to me and yet so true!
I've got more to go to Heaven for than I had yesterday...