Yesterday and today were easier than they have been in the last seven months. And that makes me mad. I don't want it to get easier. It shouldn't get easier.
It means time is passing. I am getting further and further away from the last time I rubbed my face in her crazy hair and looked into her big, blue eyes. Her giggles, growls, cries and 'look at me' hollers are now just echos in our minds. Yes, we have hundreds of pictures. Yes, we have many videos. But I do not have a little girl bouncing up and down in my arms. I do not get to walk into a pink room every morning and be greeted by a crooked smile- which would now be full of teeth, from a little girl playing with her toes.
I've been cheated. No pictures or videos of her crawling, her first steps. Never to be.
I want to go back seven months and three days. I want my life back. Our life back. I want Ellie's life back. I want our girl.
The last two days were easier. That makes me feel like a bad mom. It makes me feel uncaring and cold. I know Ellie wouldn't want me to spend the rest of my life in the darkness. She was our light. I know she wants us to be happy. But surviving the last two days without any major meltdowns- just frequent minor ones- makes me sad. And mad.
Losing a child messes with your head (among hundreds of other things...). I don't want to hurt so bad all the time. But when I don't, it's not what I want either.
Ellie, I want our time together back. I want to sit in your pretty pink room with just the glow of your nightlight and rock you. I want to sing Baby Beluga for you while you look at me with your funny little smile and bob your foot up and down in your hand. I want you to quickly close your eyes and tuck your head into your blankie, only to open them a second later and smile. You were such a funny little girl. I would give anything to see you as a toddler. No longer a baby, a toddler. You'd be a toddler. In seven months, you would have changed from a baby to a little girl. I miss you pretty girl.
I love you forever and ever, Mama
Remembering May 25th, 2010
"Hey Max, what do you think of the organic, milk-free strawberry popsicles Mommy made just for you??"
""Don't know Mommy. Because there is no way in hell that I am going to even try something on a stick. I am going to 'place' it on the floor now. Ok?"
"Max, will you eat it if I pry it off the stick, slightly microwave it so that I can mash it up into a bowl for you?"
"Yes, I will. In fact, I will even use a spoon. Now, don't get too excited about the whole spoon thing though. It will be fleeting and in about nine months, you will have to stalk me with it in order for me to start using it again. Ok thanks. BTW, the popsicles- just Ok."