Goodbye, Tucson. For Now...

     Ever and I are back home (again) from Tucson.  There was a lot of back and forth for awhile there, but we're both happy to be home.  Ever's curled up on the couch after his bath, holding his Dry-Dry (security blanket....very Linus from Peanuts looking thing).  I'll have to make a post about that thing someday.  It definitely has personality.

     Some highlights of the last few days, because I like writing into nothingness to no one in particular:

Got Holly's grave marker all ordered and paid-for-like!  I stayed up until 1am designing one, and when I went to the cemetery the next morning they were all...."Ummmm......sooooo.....here's this book with pre-made designs that....ummmmm....you have to choose from.  Did I say 'have to'?  Ha ha ha, silly me, I meant 'can,' but, ummmmm........just choose from the book, k thanks."  Even doing that took 2 hours and cost $700.  Tax refunds are helpful for these things, says the typical American family.  I don't.  I say, "why does a piece of rock with some words have to cost so much?"  A smaaall piece of rock.  Maybe someone can enlighten me on that one.  It wasn't everything I would've hoped for, but I think it will be okay.

     Hmmm...Ever is convinced that this here red crayon is blue.....color blind much??  Normal mother fears, I'm sure.

    We also went to the Children's Museum, where Ever did not want to have any pictures taken and barely managed a smile the entire time we were there.  Still, I took pictures and think he had an okay time:

     Oh, crap.  THOSE pictures are on my phone.  Which has limited ability to do anything cool, like upload pictures to anything, especially to a blog.  And I have no idea where my small-s-card-holder-that-can-actually-fit-my-phone's-tiny-card-into-my-computer-thing is.

     Here's a rug that I'm making out of t-shirts, instead:

     That is officially all I have for the moment.  I will probably never finish that rug, either.

Valentine's Day - Take Two

The rest of the day went something like this:

Starting to feel better

Playing with toy plane = progress

Valentine's Day lunch, courtesy of Dimas and On The Border.  Dimas watches TV.  Ever wears underpants.  Sorry about this one, Ever.

There was a break in Ever's fever and in the weather, so we ventured off to the cemetery.  The fever may have worn off, but the grumpiness was clearly still in effect.

Happy Valentine's Day and due date, baby girl!

The one thing we still need to do is get her permanent grave marker, but I just can not for the life of me decide what to write on it.  This is at the absolute top of my priority list now, as the temporary marker doesn't have much life left.  Sadly, a few new graves have been marked near Holly in "Babyland."

A balloon from each of us.  Ever even mustered up the strength to draw something on his for his baby sister.

"They're going to a place we don't understand" - Dimas

     It was somewhat sadder than I expected it to be - the balloon release.  Still, I'm glad we were able to visit her on such a special day.  She deserves to be celebrated.

     So, that is that.  Her due date has passed.  I was really anxious about the whole thing, but now that it's come and gone, it really wasn't so bad.  In a way, it feels like a weight, however small, has been lifted.  I don't know what else life has in store for me, but I sure am looking forward to it.  Whatever it is, I think I'm ready for it.  And Holly will always be a part of it.

I carry your heart with me

I carry it in my heart

I am never without it...

E.E. Cummings

A letter to my stillborn daughter

Dear Holly,

     It's Valentine's Day - your due date.  I knew this day would come, but I still feel completely unprepared for it.  You should be here by now.  I should be cradling you in my arms, nursing you, burping you, watching you sleep, and getting very little sleep myself.  Terrified, exhausted and completely in love all over again.

     I don't know what to say, except that I'm so sad that you're not here.  I miss you.  I miss what should have been.  I miss what was.  I will always miss you.  I don't know if I will ever be the same again, without you.

     I've relived your death and birth and the events leading up to it over and over and over again in my mind.  I've tried to change things.  I've tried to bring you back.  Even in my thoughts, I can't.  I'm so sorry, my sweet baby girl.  You were such a fighter.  They told me I should've miscarried you - that babies in your situation are almost always miscarried by 16 weeks.  But not you.  You were strong.  You hung on through so much.  I'm so sorry you had to fight for so long, only to have me give up on you in the end.  I wish I would've fought harder for you.  I hope you can forgive me.

     Your big brother painted a picture for you yesterday.  He's so sweet....he still calls you his baby sister and says "night night" to you most nights, when he's not in a particularly ornery mood.  He has a small picture of your hands, and has folded it and creased it so much from holding onto it so tightly.  It's "Ever's picture," as he calls it.  I'm not sure if he knows what love is, but I know he loves you very much, in his own two year old way.

     Oh, Holly, I don't know what happens after this life, but I do know that if heaven is in fact a physical place, there must be a very special place inside of it reserved for angels like you.  I don't know whether I'll ever get to see you again, but I have thoughts of holding your hand someday - looking down at our matching bracelets and smiling as if none of this ever mattered.  I've tried to dream about you...about meeting you...about who you are and who you were and who you would've been.  But, as is almost always the case with things like this, you are the only person that doesn't inhabit my dreams.  I know it will happen someday...

     I know how silly it is, but with your due date passing, I feel like I am again saying goodbye to you in a whole new way.  I feel like this goodbye is more final somehow.  Like I'm leaving you behind....leaving my would-have-been pregnant self behind and moving on to a different part of my life.  I guess it has to happen, but it's so hard to let go.

     To add salt to the wound, it just so happens that I know of a few other women who are giving birth within a week of when you should've been born.  I'm not bitter towards them...I really am happy for them, but it does make me feel like I've failed you even more.  It's really hard to explain.  It just makes me feel that this is all some big lesson, except I have no idea what I'm supposed to learn from any of it.  I just don't understand what others did right that I did so wrong.  Am I being punished?  Would I not have been a good enough mother to you?   Am I not a good enough mother to Ever?  There are so many questions that I will never have the answers to.

     I hope and pray that, wherever...whenever...you are, that you are okay.  No baby should ever have to struggle the way that you did.  I could see it on your face when you were born.  I feel so bad for having to put you through that.  You deserve rest now....you deserve only the best that God has to offer.  I can only hope I'm worthy of the same so that I can see you again someday.  Wherever you are, know that you have a mommy here on Earth who loves and misses you so very much.

You will always be my perfect little Valentine.

All of my love,
Mommy

Tori Amos - 1,000 Oceans

"These tears I cry
I've cried 1,000 oceans
and if it seems I'm floating in the darkness, well,


I can't believe that I would keep
keep you from flying
and I would cry 1,000 more
if that's what it takes
to sail you home


I'm aware what the rules are
but you know that I will run
you know that I will follow you
over silbury hill
through the solar fields
you know that I will follow you


And if I find you
will you still remember
playing at the trains
or does this little blue ball
just fade away?

Oh, I can't believe

that I would keep

keep you from flying

so I would cry 1,000 more

if that's what it takes to Sail you home"