I hate this existence. It is truly nothing. It is get up, get what absolutely has to be done done, go to bed. There is not a smile, not a moment of joy. It is crossing things off a list. Things that have to be done so it appears to our children and the outside world like we give a damn. Cayden has three birthday parties this weekend so I will dutifully go to the store later and purchase gifts so she can go to the parties, appear normal and have fun. But it is not normal, it is not enough. Reese is in the kitchen drawing picture after picture of Emerson, she must have said the name Emerson AT LEAST 100 times already today. I am glad she doesn't hesitate to talk about her but it is TOO much, I want to scream SHUT UP, I can not take it anymore, I can not look at her and smile I want my baby back or I want the hell out of this life. I can not do this day after day. It is not enough. I am a zombie, I hurt, I am miserable, I am so sick of trying but yet I know I have no choice. THe baby is kicking constantly now, reminding me she is in there, coming in just 3 months. How would she feel if she knew I would cut her from my stomach with a kitchen knife if there was some way to trade her for Emerson, any way to get to my little girl. I love Cayden and Reese, I even love the baby but being 35 years old and knowing I am going to hurt forever, I am never going to hold Emerson or see her running around in this world again is too much, it hurts too much, it makes this IMPOSSIBLE, it is not something I have to survive for a year it is something that will never go away. How many people have to remind themselves to breathe? Half the time I can not even believe this is real. I never saw Emmie get sick, get injured, nothing. Nothing that signaled to my mind that there was danger, nothing to protect her from. I put her in for a nap and she died within the hour. WHO does that happen too. Drs. can not tell us why, how am I supposed to understand, accept that it happened, it makes NO sense, how can this be real? She was every bit as healthy as her sisters, she never had a sick visit. HOW can this have happened, I always kept her safe. Was there something I could have done differently to have her here with me?
I always thought living solely for my kids would be enough, living through them, giving them a childhood I wished I had. But it is not enough, I am faking it, so it is not what I want for them, I do not want them to mourn a sister, miss their parents, I want what I have worked so hard to provide and what was all taken from us for no reason, no cause. I was a good mother, my child was healthy and safe and she is DEAD and no one knows why. I am a shell of who I was and I can not believe this happened, that there is no undo button, no way back. I am so sick of trying, what am I trying to do, to be happy while my child is dead...HOW? I try to see people, to open myself up but I resent everyone, why was my little girl singled out, WHY her, why my family? I have had loss before, it is someone else's turn but there is no way back. Last night I went in Emmie's room like I always do, I looked down in her crib and lying on her mattress were one of Cayden's stuffed animals and one of Reese's stuffed animals. Their silent offering to their little sister, it just about split me in two.
One of my oldest friends went to NH this weekend. To the same exact place we will be going in another couple weeks. The difference in our experiences is just another slap in the face. For her family it is an escape, some fun time away to laugh and enjoy each other and take a break from the everyday hectic life we all lead. For us it is a way to make a week of our life pass, a way to keep Cayden and Reese entertained, a way to FAKE that we are a family to FAKE that we will be happy again, at least for them. As she thinks about packing she makes sure the kids have what they need. I used to make sure we had cute outfits with matching hairpieces, shoes, nightlights, etc. I remembered everything we might need, planned for every maybe. Now I wonder should I take Emmie's ashes with me, what of hers could I not live without if our house burnt down while we were gone? Instead of packing for my baby girl I have to pack what remains of her. It is horrifying and painful and I want to die.
Emerson was my world. My little bundle of love that literally thought I made the world turn. She loved me so completely and I loved her the same, I still do but I can not get to her. She defined joy for me because that is all she was, happiness. Somedays are better than others, today not so much, so I am just here reminding myself to breathe, that this too, this life, shall pass, just not quickly enough.