Today was one of those days. One of those days where you think that you should have stayed in bed. Just pulled the covers up and pretended the world wasn't going on around you.
Today is the 24th. I hate the 24th. More than I hate the 25th. The 25th is the day Ellie died. But the 24th is the day we lost our baby. By the 25th, I just wanted peace and comfort for my baby. I wanted the hurt for her to stop and the machines to leave her be. On the 25th, I wanted our friends and family to surround her with love.
But the 24th is the day it day all went wrong. The 24th is the day that the ambulance came and the doctor rubbed my knee and with tears in his eyes, told me they were running out of options. The 24th is the day, that Ellie's body betrayed her in the worst way. The 24th is the last day I held her in her beautiful, perfect body and smelled her smell. The 24th is the day I had to leave her with strangers. I HATE the 24th. Hate.
This morning was the first time I didn't go into therapy with Max. We've been going to this clinic for just over three weeks and it was time for me to back off a little. I trusted the therapists and Max seemed comfortable enough for me to wait in the waiting room. So I sat down with my laptop, thrilled that they had WiFi AND that I was able to log on to it, only to have them walk through the door. A Dad, a young Boy and a small little Girl. The Boy went back for therapy just minutes after Max did. The Dad and the Girl stayed in the lobby, WITH ME, the entire hour. The little Girl wandered around in her footies, carrying her blankie. I heard Dad tell another mom that she was 15 months old. And she LOVED her blankie. She toddled around trying out her new words.
It killed me. I cried. In the middle of the therapy center waiting room. I hope, hope, HOPE, that the Boy doesn't need therapy every Thurs. at 9am. Otherwise I will have to spend the rest of his sessions in my car.
So it snowed in Minnesota yesterday. I am so sick of this state. Seriously, enough with the snow. On the way to therapy this morning and back, I saw four car accidents. People, we live in MN- learn to drive!
That meant there were lots of ambulances, lots of firetrucks and lots of police cars. Lots of sirens, lots of flashing lights. It was more than a little reminiscent of the day I had exactly five months ago.
Three guys in suits showed up at our house today to talk about putting our house on the market. I cried at least three times. They messed with my furniture, made me question my decisions, told me to change a light bulb (how dare they!) and were very nice. So obviously I cried. I'm seriously losing it! And when they left, I cried some more and called Dave. Then I cried harder and called my mom.
Should have stayed in bed.
To help distract from the crappiness of today, we decided to go out to eat with my parents. Max screamed, refused even fries and Dave ended up taking him home just as the food was served. We were THAT family. After I walked Dave's boxed up dinner to the car, I sat down at the table and my phone rang. It was the photography company at the mall that took Ellie's newborn and 6 month pictures. When we got her newborn pictures taken we bought a membership to the company. Tonight, they called to see if I wanted to renew Ellie's membership.
No, no I don't.
Maybe I would have been better prepared for today, if the last five months hadn't happened. So I guess I was screwed from the moment I begrudgingly put my feet on the floor.
So now I will wait for my beloved Benadryl to kick in and maybe, just maybe, I will get some actual sleep tonight. So far this week, it's been an allusive little bastard.