Cracking

It's only a matter of time. I'm going to crack. There is only so much fake smiling, laughing and living you can do before you start to lose it. It's all getting to be too much. I feel like I'm too young for all this stress- I'm almost 28 but feel like I'm edging on eighty. Lately, it's hard to stop the tears. I can't see a picture of Ellie, something of hers, a commercial with a baby in it, without crying. I miss her so much- that doesn't even touch it. "Miss" isn't strong enough. Every day, every single day since she died, it hits several times a day. I might be looking at her picture or doing something totally unrelated, and it hits- Ellie is dead. Dead. I hate that word. It's such a cold, harsh word to describe such a warm, beautiful, perfect girl.

I can't stop crying, I can't eat, I can't sleep, I can't focus, and I am angry. When I am able to pull myself off the couch, I feel like I am just wandering. I can't follow any TV show- I don't even have enough attention span for the news. The only thing that does keep my attention is my anger. People say "hate" is a strong word. Yes, I know. And I can tell you with certainty, I hate presents. I hate wrapping paper. I hate Christmas music- I kind of always have, but this year- it makes me want to scream.
And while we are on the topic of hate- I hate people that whine about their kids. And how their kids spilled their peas, or how their kid said a bad word. Or how tired they are because their kid didn't sleep. Seriously people?! Get a real problem! I'm tired too. But not because I've been up all night cuddling my sweet warm chubby baby. I'm tired because I'm up all night thinking about how my baby's body, which is probably cold, is buried 15 minutes away underneath a bunch of snow. I'm tired because I can't keep from thinking I should have done something more, I should have saved her. I'm tired because I don't like to close my eyes because all I see is her face, all swollen, purple and oozing. Next time I hear a mom complaining her baby was up all night, I'm going to lose it. I just want to scream at them. I want to tell them to be grateful for that extra time they have with their child because the last time I saw my baby awake was when I handed her to the nurse as they prepared to intubate her. If I had any idea that was going to be the last time I held her, in that body, I would have never let her go. I would not have left her with strangers. How could I have left her with strangers?...... If you are going to whine about your kids, don't do it around me. I feel like the world is closing in around me. Losing Ellie is more than I can handle. I read somewhere, "empty arms are so much heavier than arms holding a child." It's so true. I feel the weight of Ellie's abscense.
And this week, Max started at the Early Childhood Education building. He's been meeting with his teacher at our house for the last two weeks, but it's different to take him to the school. It's hard taking him there, knowing I am taking MY son to special education classes. I have a special needs child. That's a tough pill to swallow, especially if you already have a sore throat. We started down this road just before Ellie died. I feel like I am failing Max because I haven't done hardly any research on therapies or diets, or anything. I'm not sure if this is the right program for Max. Between two and three is the most critical time to begin therapy for autistic kids. Max is just barely two and I feel like if we don't get our lives straightened up Max is going to suffer. Max has a great teacher and everyone at the school seems wonderful, but I am terrified of making a mistake that could affect him so greatly.

Tomorrow the flooring company is coming to fix our floors. Before Ellie died, our refridgerator leaked underneath the laminate flooring, destroying it. They were supposed to come fix it the day she died but we put it off. Since we waited to have them come, we got black mold growing over what we discovered to be absestos covered linoleium... sure why not?... Right now our dining room sub-floor is covered with misc. rugs, cardboard and duct tape to protect Max's feet from splinters. Normally I would be esctatic to get the floor fixed and get back to the way things should be. But things aren't going to be normal again. When the floor got ruined Ellie was here, now she is not. We should put the highchair away tonight. We will have to move everything out of the dinig room anyways so they can fix the floor. But I feel like I'm betraying Ellie. I don't want her to be up there in Heaven looking down at us, and think we are forgetting her because that will never happen. I'm not sure I'll be able to put it away, or let it be put away.  Tomorrow the floor will get fixed but Ellie won't. It isn't logical, it doesn't make sense, but because of that, I hate our floor too. It might just be the floor that finally makes me crack.



Ellie was always so anxious to get her hands on Max



Ellie's 1st trip to the zoo. She was about two months old.



Exactly on year ago. Dec. 14, 2009.