Monday, December 6, 2010

Six Weeks Gone

Six terribly long weeks have passed since I've held my sweet girl. It's been six weeks since I've smelled her sweet baby smell. Six weeks ago, we had to leave our baby's body with complete strangers in a strange place in the middle of the night. Six weeks ago, we went from living a ridiculously idyllic life to living a complete nightmare.

Six weeks ago was a line in the sand. Everything will now be defined as before Oct 24 & Oct 25 and after. Before, we were so ignorantly and blissfully happy. We had no idea what was headed straight for us. Now, "the after," we are painfully aware that nothing is safe. Six weeks ago, we not only lost the most beautiful little girl, but we lost of our sense of security. Parents always worry that something will happen to their children, especially mothers, but the worry is usually unfounded and for nothing. A parent should never have to look down at their child's unrecognizable body, cluttered with tubes and bandages, and tell the doctor it's ok to turn off the machines- that she's ready to go now. Six weeks ago, it all changed.

As we sat in the porch the other night, we noticed how beautiful it was with the fresh coat of snow and twinkle of the few lights on the small purple Christmas tree. Our lives should be perfect right now. It doesn't get any better than two safe, warm cuddly babies asleep in their cribs, a twinkling Christmas tree and white dusted pine trees. Now, the lights and the pretty trees make me mad. Tonight, while we were out running errands, I saw a many Christmas trees all lit up in the porches of houses we passed by. I didn't know those people in there, but I don't like them. Any of them. I bet they were sitting on their couches enjoying the view of their horribly perfect tree. Six weeks ago, we were like them. Now, we aren't. Now we are different.

Seven weeks ago, we had it all. I could snuggle Ellie all I wanted. I was laughing at her crazy hair sticking up all over the place and her chunky thighs poking out from under her dress. I was listening to her holler at Max to get his attention. I was watching her figure out the world around her. Now, we are trying to figure out the world around us, without her.

It's been six weeks, and every day, every minute, I still can't believe she's gone. I still can't believe our lives have been turned upside down like this. I can't believe that six weeks ago, our Ellie was snatched out of our lives forever.

I miss you Peanut.

Mama and her koala bear

4 comments:

Melissa: The Goldilocks of the Bear Den...and the Momma! said...

Hi Tiffany,
I know we don't know each other....only know 'of' each other. I shared with you about The Macs site on momslikeme.com (MLM) on your thread. I am no longer on the MLM site but continute to read your blog and think of you often.

I figured tonight would be a good time to share with you...I am on a simple one day business trip and terribly missing my husband and 2 year old son, Brandon. I am also 9 months pregnant and due any day now with our daughter which occasionally puts me at an emotional wreck. I got to my hotel room this afternoon-quiet and lonely and started crying because I was missing my son so much. It was then that I realized this 'pain' of me missing Brandon is nothing like the pain you have to experience of missing Ellie.

Even though I have only been reading your blog for a week or so I think about you constantly. I know I have never met you or Ellie and you have never met us but it is amazing how much your story is on my heart and I wanted to share with you how your sweet Ellie has even touched a total stranger. My husband, Rob, and I were driving home from a family dinner the other day when the sky was totally pink and purple. He commented on the sunset and the colors and I said, "Yes, it's an amazing color. That's because it's Ellie." Rob was confused and asked what I was talking about...all I could say was, "It's Ellie. The sky...the color...it's Ellie." He still didn't know what I was talking about and I said, "I know you don't but just know it's Ellie." He said, "Ok, well Ellie sure is colorful and perfect." I just wasn't in a spot to share and just wanted Rob to know it was Ellie.


PART 1

Melissa: The Goldilocks of the Bear Den...and the Momma! said...

Part 2
This morning on the way to our drive to Wisconsin for this work trip my co-worker, Chris, was getting really upset with the sun in his face. But the bright sun was surrounded by pinks and purples. He kept saying "That sun is so bleeping annoying but it sure is georgous." I answered him, "It's Ellie" He looked at me like I had 3 heads and I said, "Don't ask-just agree." He said, "Um...okay. Ellie is a really cute name."

Last week my mom (Oma) took Brandon to the library. It is their special thing they do together every few weeks. They came home and he was so excited to show me a book (which he normally waits til bed time when I pull them all out). He pulled out a book about a butterfly. Oddly, Brandon is afraid of butterflies. It was a pink butterfly and he said, "Momma, its pretty" My mom said she normally has to pick out some books for him to put in his bag but he went and found that one book about the butterfly and put it in the bag himself. She said he had already read it a few times. I just smiled and thought to myself 'its Ellie'.

I have been busy preparing for this new baby for awhile and did her clothes a while ago. I had washed it and hung a bunch of it in her closet. I had forgotten what was in there and last night had to get something out of her closet. I opened the door and all that was hanging was her pink and purple clothes. I didn't think much until closing the closet doors and wondered where the other stuff was. For some reason I had only hung up some of her pink and purple stuff- in a chunk in her closet. The red clothes and lots of other color clothes were all folded in her dresser drawers. But for some reason only pink and purple hung in a small part in her closet. I know it seems small and odd but I just smiled and thought of you and Ellie.

Melissa: The Goldilocks of the Bear Den...and the Momma! said...

Part 3

My hotel room is over looking the river and when I looked up from my work around 5:30pm the park across the hotel was all lit up with lights. MAJOR lights with music and many displays. I was getting ready to go grab some dinner when I realized the one big tree outside my window was lit up in purple lights. The others were white. For some reason I just thought it was Ellie once again.

Even though I never met her (or you and your family) I think of you every day and I also see little bits of Ellie surrounding me. I know the amazing connection between a mother and her child and can't imagine the pain you have experienced.

In one post you were scared that people would forget her or get sick of hearing about her. I have followed blogs similar to that of yours and The Macs of children who so sadly have passed years ago and I never knew them. I think about them every day and their families (especially their mothers). It doesn't matter if Ellie would have had a presence here on this earth for 9 minutes, 9 months, 9 years, or 9 decades...she isn't forgotten! Your family, friends, strangers and most of all you as a mother- will never forget those moments with her and memories. The life and memory of a sweet, precious child doesn't have a 'time frame' or 'limit'. You will always be a mom to your amazing daughter.

Even though I had never met Ellie in person I feel like I have met her through those pink and purple skys, the butterfly on the front of the book, and the specific pink and purple section in my daughters closet.

Thank you for sharing your journey with us. Thank you for sharing your emotions, feelings, thoughts and sorrow. Thank you for introducing me to Ellie. I am very excited to get to know her further in those beautiful colors, sunsets, butterflies...

Ellie's Mommy said...

Thank you for your wonderful story. It makes me so happy to know that people are thinking of our little peanut! I love that pink and purple make you think of her- she was so girly, and they totally remind me of her.

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