What Now?

Last night was one of the best nights I've had recently, and one of the worst I've had, if that's even possible. We had a slew of visitors all day that brought in gifts, sweet thoughts and lots of warm hugs.

Yesterday, a woman called us, Allan answered the phone. He put them on hold and told me 2 ladies wanted to come and talk to me. He rattled off their names, which I have already forgotten and I feel so terrible about it, and said they were asking if they could come over and talk with me. He said that they have gone through what we are going through and thought maybe they could help a little bit. I was completely confused. It's like I've forgotten english and how to comprehend simple sentences. He asked me when they could come over and help because he thought it would be good for me to talk to them, even if only for the legistics of how to plan the service or what we are supposed to do now and all. I agreed and asked if they could come over at about 7p.

Right after that, I got a wonderful surprise visit from Taralee Truman. I was SO happy to see her. Just a few days earlier, she emailed me asking how I was doing and that she'd been thinking about me. It was so great to hear from her that day, because just days earlier, I was missing her and having friends that I went out with and all of that. But life got away with me, and I never was able to just sit down and respond to her. So it was a great surprise visit and I was so happy she was there.

While Tara was there, my mom popped in, and I felt bad because I didn't get to say hi to her much. She had just taken Sarah to school and had just talked to her teacher about everything that had happened. But, her and my sister went up stairs to let us visit with my friend and to chat. So I didn't get to talk to her much, but she did come down and give me a big hug, and made me cry again. HA! Mom's have a way of doing that. It's a good thing.

I really wanted to accomplish something, feel useful for a second. I wanted, very badly, to do something for Eleanor's service coming up, and to plan something, so I was obsessed with going to the distribution center, at the LDS bookstore, and getting her a dress. I wanted her to have her dress, just like her brothers and sister have from their baby blessings. I wanted her to have a quilt, like her brothers and sister, that I made, but I just don't have time to make one, which makes me feel incredibly guilty, so I wanted to at least pick out a blanket for her. I just wanted to make her one little birthday party I can plan for her to be perfect. She is perfect, so this had to be too.

I walked outside, to get in the car with my sister, and my neighbor pulled up. She got out of the car and gave me a hug, and we joked about the parking in the neighborhood as usual. The whole time we were talking, I wanted to run away so badly. I felt naked and embarrassed. I didn't expect that feeling. I felt like I was supposed to have a baby with me or a big belly, but I didn't. I just wanted to hurry and get in the car and hide. Finally, we got in the car and headed to the store. I got her dress, the same one her big sister has. Then we went to Baby's R Us to get her the socks and headband and blanket. I remember pulling in the parking lot and a very small part of me said, "this isn't such a good idea", but the bigger part of me was obsessed with getting what I needed and this was the best place to find it. We walked in the door and right in front of me is the dress that her big brother, Luke, picked out for her as a present. He was so excited to get that for her. I showed it to my sister and I was so happy and proud of my little boy. He's got good taste. HA!

We walked to the christening stuff, and all of their stuff, socks and shoes and all that, had crosses on them, and I just didn't want that for her. I was frustrated, but Cassie headed over to the regular socks and found some perfect little white lacey ones. Then we found a cute headband, with a little white poof on top. We walked to the blanket section and I was having a really hard time deciding on what blanket to get her. Cassie found a sweet, white crocheted blanket, but for some reason, I really wanted her to have something pink. She just needed pink. We had found a pink blanket somewhere else, but it was a lot of money, and I can't stop thinking of that either. But it was super cute. I found another blanket that was pink and super soft, with brown satin ruffles around the edge, that had pink flowers all over the brown. I loved it so much because above it was a littler version of the blanket, and I thought that it would be nice to have the little version of what she's wrapped in, in her box, so I can remember it and feel it. I asked Cassie if that was silly or weird, and of course she's not going to say that it is. Nothing is a weird idea right now. Cassie came up with a sweet idea of putting a family picture in her casket also, of me and Allan and the kids. We don't have one that has her in it too, obviously. I thought it was a great idea. We went to the picture frames isle, and I stared at all of the memory keeping items..........and I started quietly crying. I can't ever put her feet prints in a frame with her picture, I can't scrapbook a baby book of her first year, I can't use a lot of the stuff they had there. It just killed me. Cassie hugged me and said it's ok to cry and it's ok to feel that way, and hugged me more. We did find a frame and a pink dog that played lullaby's when you pulled on the tail, to put with her at Target.

When we got home, my visiting teachers pulled up with dinner. I just love these ladies. They are the funniest ladies I've ever met. My husband got a kick out of them. I felt so good to laugh, but I felt really guilty that I was so happy right then. I felt like I shouldn't let myself be so happy.

They left after about an hour or so, and then the 2 ladies came over, that called earlier. I wasn't sure how to start that conversation, so Allan did. They just shared their stories and their experiences and for some reason, I started sharing my personal feelings of what was going on. I shared everything. They told me about little traditions they do to remember their children they lost, the same way as me, and how they incorporate the children they have on the earth. They told me so many helpful, wonderful things. I'm sure I will forget some of the advice, and then it will pop up again in my memory bank when I need it. They really helped a lot, and really made me feel validated in the weird, crazy thoughts I was having. After about 2 hours of talking, they left and so did my sister. We were left alone.

We went upstairs and I showered and started to get dressed again. While in the hospital, they told us to bind my breasts so that the milk didn't come in. So there we were, wrapping them in ace bandages and I just started to cry. I felt like by doing that, I'm trying to hide my little Eleanor, or even avoid her. I'm trying to stop what SHOULD be happening. I felt so guilty for that, I hated myself for that. Not only that, the binding hurt terribly. I started to feel like I deserved this torture, I deserved the pain I was in, for not protecting my daughter from harm, like a good mom is supposed to. I just broke down and sobbed. Allan held me so tightly as I curled up into a ball and buried my face in his chest and cried more and harder. I just kept thinking, "What now? What am I supposed to do now? I'm a mom and I have 4 children, but only 3 with me. I feel like God isn't letting me do my job."

I know that some of my thoughts are not true, even if right now I don't believe it right now. What I do know, without doubt, is I have the most amazing, gentle, caring and loving husband that any woman can ask for. He just wants to take care of me, even in his own grief. He wants to just make sure I'm doing ok and if I'm not, he wants to make it better, at any cost. I don't know if I could go through this with any other man.