Some days are just harder than others. Some days all of the events and emotions from May 7th come flooding back. Yesterday was one of those days.
Yesterday I felt like the biggest failure. I failed at the most important job in the world... Bringing my daughter into the world safely. What could I have done differently? Why couldn't I save her? Why is my daughter NOT here?
Yesterday I cried and cried and cried. Thankfully I had off from work and had taken Mariah to school, so I could cry as much as I needed. I relived every minute of Evangeline's birthday in my head... From the absolute happiness we felt on the drive to the hospital, to how my whole body went limp after the doctor told us she didn't make it, to how I held tightly to her cold, lifeless body that night as I fell asleep in the hospital since it would be the only night I could hold her.
Yesterday after I picked Mariah up from school she came home and played. I sat on the rocking recliner in Evangeline's room while Mariah played with her grill and pretend food. She served me a plate and then grabbed a plate, placed it on the crib and said "and this one is for Evangeline." I started to cry. Yes, I love that my beautiful 4 year old still plays with her baby sister, but damnit it hurts. My 4 year old should not have to pretend to play with her baby sister, she should not have to put her chin to her heart to talk to her sister, and at this age she sure as hell shouldn't have to know that sometimes babies die.
I put Mariah to bed last night and cried some more. Yesterday was just one of those days.