Time Goes By........

It'll be 4 months, tomorrow, since my Ellie Bellie died. Not a day goes by, that I don't think of her. I wish I was given the chance to be her mother, but I do know that, someday, I will get to be.

I have found, that as time goes by, I think of my Eleanor, but I never picture her, as she was when I held her. I think of her as a 14 year old girl. I can picture what she looks like, her mannerisms, her smile, her hair, her eyes, and her dainty hands. I know her personality, and I can feel her warm hug, just as if I have hugged her before. It's a weird feeling. One that I am curious about, and one that I am sad about.

I don't know if I miss her though.......Is that weird? I didn't know her. I didn't have any memories of her. The only memories I had of her, were of her when she was already gone. The experience of finding out that as miraculously as she came into the world, that she left the same way, was horrifying, to say the least. I still catch myself, in bed, thinking that I'm pregnant.

I am finding out how complex all of these emotions are though. I've started walking, between 3-5 miles a day, about 4 times a week. I've lost a lot of weight, however, I'm upset that I lost weight. I didn't want the weight, because I didn't have the baby to justify the weight gain, but on the other hand, I feel like I'm trying to wipe her away, by losing the baby weight. It's just like when my breasts were wrapped to try to get the milk to stop coming in. On one hand, the milk coming in was a constant slap in the face, and a reminder of her, but then wrapping them felt like I was trying to make her go away. I can't win! It's extremely frustrating.

I know I'm depressed. I think, with all of the things on my plate lately, I always have people around me, so I constantly put on the happy face. When friends, my children, or my husband are around, it's like I don't allow myself to go there, when they ask how I'm doing, for fear that I will depress them, or make them uncomfortable. However, lately, I have done it more so, to the point that I never allow myself to feel any of it, because I always have people around me. When I do finally feel it, it's been held in for so long, that I feel like my emotions are just oozing out all over my face, in tears. I am getting exhausted.

How am I doing? Well, I'm doing OK. Not great, not bad, I'm pretty even. The last few days have been difficult. Allan and I decided we're going to try again, to have another baby. That was a terrifying decision to make. That meant that I would have to WILLINGLY put myself in that position again, along with my family, and whatever friends are left, out of this tragedy. I'm petrified, to say the least. But, I know it's the right thing to do. I still do feel like God was punishing me for something. Maybe even for saying that we were done having kids and wanting to get a vasectomy. I feel like we took the gift of having children, and the ease of it, for granted, and that's how he was trying to teach us not to take it for granted. Do I think God operates like that? No. But it's what my crazy mind thinks today. I almost have to allow myself to feel that, instead of anger at God. I don't want to be angry at him. It's a slippery slope, and I don't want to put myself in a position of being so clouded by anger, that I fall away from the gospel. I don't want to lose what I know to be true.

As time goes by, I am still grateful for the trials that are laid in front of me. I am proud of me, for going through this, and hopefully, doing more than just surviving this. I am proud of me for being open to the lessons that needed to be learned during this experience. I am stronger than I ever imagined I was.........but even with all of that, I feel weakened by this too. I feel tired. I feel like the battle is not with friends, or family, or even God. The battle is with myself. Do I forgive myself, and let myself cry, and feel, or do I give in to the depression and feel that I did kill my child, and that I'm not deserving of any love and attention from my kids, living, or my husband? I know what I want, but I feel like, sometimes, some days, I am battling myself to figure out which way I'm going to go.

I'm still a work in progress, but as time goes by, I have faith and hope, that it will get easier. I love my husband for trying to help me through this, even though, I know he has a hard time talking about it, so often changes the subject......but he's trying. I love my children for being patient with me, when I get in a snappy mood (which is quite often lately). I love the few friends that have stuck by me through this and have tried to be there for me, and make me feel comfortable enough to talk to them about it all. All of those things have made all of the difference in the world for me.