Depressed

It's been quite a while since my last posting. Longer than usual. After the move, a lot of emotions came up, that were a little unexpected.

When we decided to move to this new house, I was uneasy about it. I knew it would be what is best for our family, but it would mean that I would probably be losing all of my friends that I had made. There are a few that have really meant the world to me, and one in particular who has become one of my best friends. But, when you move 30 minutes away, in this town, people decide that you live too far, so you generally lose touch. I know I sound like a 12 year old who doesn't want to move, but these people helped me through the hardest time in my life, and continued to be there afterwards. It's hard for me to know that I will be giving that up.

Losing friends was a big deal for me, but there was a bigger issue, that I wasn't really aware of, until recently. The house we moved into is a monster of a house. It is fully furnished to the nines. It is really beautiful. Before, I thought I was uneasy about it just because I was embarrassed by it. We know a lot of people who are struggling financially, and then we are lucky enough to have a great job and now this big beautiful house. Stuff and things are not important to me. But, my family is. And this is what's best. The embarrassment was part of the issue. The other part of it, I just realized, is that I don't feel worthy or deserving of this amazing gift. Deep down, I feel like, because I have been pregnant so much, that I should've known that something was wrong with Ellie, and that I could've done something earlier, and she would be here. I feel that, because I didn't notice she hadn't been moving, or moving less, that I killed her. Because the doctors couldn't find anything wrong with her, and no answers as to why she died, then I take responsibility. And because of that, I feel like a murderer, and not deserving of anything good. Even with the miscarriage, it was, in my nutty mind, confirmation that I don't deserve anything good. I felt like I deserved for that to happen.

The last month, I have been so down. So depressed. Much more than ever, and lately, It's because of Ellie. I can't think about her, without feeling the softness of her squishy cheeks on the back of my hand. Or, feel her black curly hair running between my fingers. I can still feel her chubby fingers brushing over my fingers. This house is just a few blocks from her. Before, she was so far away, and I couldn't visit her as often (yes, yes, I know It's not really her, but you can't really make a mother feel that way). But, now, she's so close, and I'm so busy, and I still can't visit her. But, because she's so close, and I drive by the cemetery so often, I think about her more. And it brings those feelings up again, a lot.

The other night, I emailed Amy some of these feelings, and she encouraged me to share them with Allan. I never have before, because he will worry about me, and I don't want to burden him with worry. He already has so much going on, and that he's stressed about, I didn't want to add more. Well, we went to dinner, and I did tell him. He didn't try to console me, which was good. He just listened and said he understood. It was perfect. He suggested we go to visit Ellie that night. We got to the cemetery, and we stood there, just staring at her head stone. Then, I just broke down. It was hurting me so much. And I mean, actual, physical pain. I was standing there, inches from my baby girl, and I couldn't just pick her up, and snuggle her, and love on her. My heart physically hurt. It felt like a huge magnet, just pulling me towards her, and someone trying to yank me away. It was a horrible feeling. And I just wanted to kneel down, cry my heart out, and say, "I'm sorry", over and over. I wanted to say this to her, my family and especially my sweet husband.

There is no resolution to these feelings. They are feelings I have every day. Some days are better than others. All I can do is hope that it gets better with time.