I'm still bewildered that this is my life. I absolutely love having Gracie and having her (alive) home with me, until next May when I go back to work
I hate that my mind is constantly trying to "catch up" to those with two kids... Because I've had as many births as the national average and yet only half have made it... It is just another thing which bothers me about this whole baby loss thing... That the numbers just don't work.
I hate that I will carry this with me all the rest of my life. I hate that I'm angry and that I'm not blissfully ignorant. I miss that version of life where I don't know what this is like... Somedays it just sits so heavily on my shoulders. I'll be having an absolutely wonderful day singing and playing and interacting with Grace, and then my mind will wander and I'm overcome with sadness that he isn't here too...
I'm incredibly rage-y these days towards some people. For example, I'm currently butt-hurt about someone not getting immunizations for their kid because they find it unnecessary... Wanna know what I find unnecessary? That my son died. THAT was unnecessary... Because my experience has taught me that had Jack been a little bit older, then he may have possessed some immunity against the infection which ultimately cost him his life thanks to these same needles... And that someone would make that conscious decision NOT to give their kid that benefit... That's the part that irritates me... Not because they don't inoculate... But because at the root of it all, it's as if they just don't think it's going to happen to them. Which makes me want to freak out and throw a hissy-fit like a three year old. It makes me want to cry and scream and repeatedly hit my head against a wall. It enrages me.
Fuck. In all honesty, I don't even know enough about injections to have a well-formed argument... Sure I've read things and I am a believer in science... But my response is irrational and completely out of line with someone else's decision making... It's how I feel, and I'm irritated by it. I am irritated because it absolutely should not happen to anyone, but likewise it shouldn't have happened to us... And I wish I could have the smugness and confidence to think it couldn't happen
I sometimes feel like when I speak to this person they aren't really listening... Like she smiles and nods her head as though she's paying attention, while simultaneously thinking I should find myself a thickly padded room. Like she thinks I'm trapped in the world where babies die all the time and I need to get out of it... Like it's an anomaly rather than the norm... But the problem is that I've seen behind the curtain, and there is no unseeing these truths- babies die, no matter how hard you love them, how much you wanted them, and no matter how much you would lay your own life on the line to protect them. They just do. And it's incredibly unfair and incredibly disturbing. But they do.
I'm likely reading too much into this, but I almost worry I can't get past this stuff... That these are things that constitute a deal breaker to me. Had you asked me twenty months ago my thoughts on such things, and I would have shrugged... Now somehow I'm taking it personally... But when your daughter sleeps in her crib at the foot of the bed, and her brothers urn sits 2 feet from her... THIS is what the death of your child does to you. This is what it's done to me. THIS is why I am the way I am.
Onto happier things... The progression of Grace since birth... You'll notice the size of her thighs keeps increasing... I've been assured this is what happens until they start crawling...That one day she will be able to use those strong little leggies to walk her around... But we'll see. ha.
|Somewhere between weeks 2-3 my milk must have really come in... ha.|
I can not believe it's already been four months since we welcomed her into our lives. It's truly been a blessing and I am soaking this time up with her. Already it seems like she's making the transition from sweet little baby to a spunky kid. It's crazy, and wonderful and I'm so thankful.