Broken

I am very, very broken right now. I feel as though I am walking in a daze. Every morning I wake up and it takes a minute to remember that it's morning and then it hits me again that I am carrying my daughter that I will never get to know. That minute in the morning before I remember is probably the most peace I have in a day. Then it hits me like a ton of bricks. All I want to do is curl back up and fall back asleep. I have to make myself put my feet on the floor. Make myself get up and get dressed. I make myself walk into Hannah's room to start the day. I ask her to come with me back to bed and watch cartoons. She always refuses and says, "no, Mommy, the living room." I am not ready for the living room yet. The living room brings life and I don't want to be in this life right now. It's not the life I want. I don't want to live this. I don't want to walk in this. I know that God is using Hannah to get me through the day. I know that he is carrying me through the day. He has placed friends in my life that are carrying me through the day. I have made myself get out of the house several times in the last 2 weeks. We have gone to play dates and even the zoo. I do it for Hannah. I do it to escape the house. I just go through the motions. I am not myself at all. I am a shell of a person. I am alone in my grief. I catch glimpses of happiness when I see Hannah's joy. I know that she senses my grief. I want to spare her from this, but I know that I can't. I just try to smile as much as I can and make myself play with her even when it hurts. Tonight she asked me to help her with her Play Doh. I hate Play Doh. I didn't know I would be involved in this when I bought the stuff. I tried to refuse and she insisted that she needed help making a heart. I couldn't turn her down and we sat together and made hearts. We made 3 - one large and two smaller ones. I couldn't help but think that they represted my heart and the hearts of my two daughters. It made me smile and cry at the same time. I just feel so broken and don't know how I am going to survive this.

I have found comfort in the blog I wrote about before, "Bring the Rain". I think you can find it if you search for Audrey Caroline at blogspot. This woman knows what I am walking in because she has been here too. As I read her words I am blown away by the fact that she has written exactly what I am feeling. Exactly. I read her words and think "YES!" that's exactly what it's like. That's exactly what I feel. Reading what she went through and how she got through it is helping me. I read her entries when I can, when I have a few minutes here and there, when it's ok to cry (I hate for Hannah to see me cry). I have also been able to turn to an old friend who has been where I'm at. I was with her when she was mourning the loss of her 3rd child by miscarraige and then again when she was celebrating the survival of her daughter, born at 29weeks, and I was there at the funeral of her son born too soon at 24weeks - he passed away in her arms. We spoke on the phone for hours last night. She told me of her regrets so that I could try to avoid them with my daughter. We spoke about how to plan for a child's death, how to plan a service, burial, memories, how to tell a toddler that their sibling is not coming home, etc. We spoke of these things so openly and easily. Only a woman who has been here can understand the feelings that come with it. It is horrible to imagine planning the death of your child, but doing so gives peace at the same time. I am planning these things so that I make sure to honor her life. I want to acknowledge that she is my daughter, that I love her, that she is wanted, and I will honor her while she is here - how ever long that is- and I will honor her in death. Planning these things for her is giving me peace.

I lay in bed at night just wanting to fall asleep and foget for a little while, but that is always when she chooses to kick me. I lay in bed for hours just pushing on my stomach and watching it twitch. Just trying to enjoy every moment I have with her. Imagining her playing in my womb, kicking her feet, trying to put them in her mouth like she did during the sonogram. I am amazed that she is holding on. There has to be a reason that she is still here, heart still beating, still moving and playing. I will do my best to enjoy these late night hours, in spite of my exhaustion. I know these moments are the only ones I will have of her.

I don't like opening up and showing my weakness to my friends. I feel so fragile and exposed at times like this. I guess I just needed to let everyone know what I really feel. I am not strong or brave or anything other than sad, and scared, and broken. I walk through the day because I have to. I take care of Hannah because I have to. I only eat when my body tells me I have to. I only bathe out of concern for other's who have to be around me. I only take out the trash because I can't stand the smell. I only do the dishes so that I have something to feed my daughter on (Dan can fend for himself). I only do the things I have to do. I only leave the house because it is a distraction. It takes me away from the bed I want to crawl into. It gives Hannah something to do so that I can be quiet for a little while. I only go around my friends so that I may listen to conversation that doesn't revolve around sadness. Even during those moments, when I am pretending to be normal, I am constantly thinking about what I am preparing for. It never leaves me. I am walking in a daze and feel so broken. I long for nap time and bed time so I can just be. I am only functioning because of the Grace of God and the support of those who are showing me love.

I have written this to get my thoughts out and I struggled with rather or not to post it. I have no other outlet and I guess it's ok to be vulnerable in front of my friends and family. I won't likely open up like this in person. I just need you to know that I am not strong. I am weak and I need help. I need prayer. I need so many things that I don't even know what they are.

P.S. I have thought of a name for my daughter. I'm not sure if it's the right one. Everytime I talk to her, it feels weird to give her a name. Nothing seems to fit her. I don't know if I will decide until I meet her. I will leave her name unspoken for now, until I decide what's right. For now, she's just my baby girl. I love her very much and long to hold her and kiss her and tell her all these things.