Windows to the soul

They say eyes are the windows to the soul. What if you never got to look into the persons eyes? I only got to see my sweet girl's face with her eyes closed... Forever sleeping.

I never got to look into my beautiful girl's eyes. I wll never be able to gauge what type of person she would be by gazing into the depths of her soul through her eyes. I will never know what color they were... She looked like me as a baby, so I often wonder if she would've had my hazel eyes or if she was lucky enough to get her daddy's blue eyes just like her big sister. I'm sure I'll end up just painting a picture in my head of what she'd look like when she was older and her personality... But I'll never know for sure if it would have been an accurate description or if it's just what I want her to be.

There are so many things I will never get to experience with Evangeline... I will never hear her call me mama, watch her reach her arms out for me, console her while she is crying, etc. And my heart aches for all of those experiences, but it really hurts that I didn't even get to gaze into her precious eyes once.

Mariah's thoughts

It's sad that my 4 year old truly understands just how unfair life can be. Today as I was getting her ready for school, we had this conversation:

Mariah: Mommy, I don't want Evangeline in my heart.
Mommy: But we'll always keep her in our hearts...
Mariah: She CAN'T be in my heart, she needs to be in her crib!

I hugged her as tight as I possibly could and cried "I know baby, I know."

My heart shattered into a million pieces again.

I cry for everything my younger daughter will never experience, and I also cry for my older daughter's loss of having a baby sister here.

One of those days

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.

Pieces missing

I love doing puzzles... I can sit down and work on a 1,000 piece puzzle for hours. I've always been good at piecing them back together and I love to take notice of the fine details in each piece.

How do you put the pieces of a broken heart back together? Like a puzzle, some pieces will fit, and the fine details can help guide you, and when you're having trouble, friends can help place some of the pieces where they fit, but will it ever come together? Will the picture ever be whole? No, I don't think so.... I'm afraid there will always be a piece of my heart missing.

My heart is just a broken puzzle, missing pieces and will never be the same.

Writing her name

I often find myself writing Evangeline's name over and over again. I write it on random pieces of paper, on coloring apps on my iPad, on the driveway with sidewalk chalk... everywhere... It feels so good to write her name. The letters flow together so beautifully.

Her beautiful name will be left out of everyday paperwork and all important milestones. Unlike Mariah's name, I will never get to write Evangeline's name on medical forms, day care signin sheets, field trip permission slips, tee ball sign ups, etc. I will never see her name written on a birthday cake, a high school diploma or a wedding invitation.

I write her name now because it soothes my soul to know that she isn't forgotten. As long as I write her name and acknowledge her, she is not forgotten by the entire world. She may not be remembered by many people... afterall only Ryan, our moms and I got to hold her, kiss her and personally say goodbye to her, but I will make sure that my beautiful girl is never completely forgotten.

A Lullaby

Sometimes I worry that I'm the only one who thinks of Evangeline every single day.... That everyone else is able to go about their day and not think of my girl... I'm sure Ryan thinks of her, but he doesn't talk about her to me, maybe because he's afraid to upset me. So it really makes me feel better when I hear someone else say her name or tell me they thought of her too.

My mom and I talk everyday. And these last six weeks I've confided in her how much I worry about everyone else forgetting about my baby girl because she's not here. I'm afraid that she won't be remembered as a part of our family... My second baby girl.

My mom told me weeks ago that she talks to and sings to Evangeline everyday. It soothed my heart to know that I wasn't the only one who did that. I didn't ask her what she said to her or what she sang because at the time I knew it would make me cry. The other day I finally asked my mom what she sings to Evangeline and she told me it's a song she made up. I asked her to sing it for me and it is such a simple, yet beautiful song. I couldn't help but cry, but for once they were tears of happiness. I was so overjoyed that my angel's Grammy sings a special song that will always be just for my baby girl.

Evangeline, Evangeline your Grammy loves you so,
Evangeline, Evangeline your Grammy loves you so,
Evangeline, Evangeline your Grammy loves you so,
Evangeline, Evangeline, Evangeline....

Your mommy loves you so,
Your daddy loves you so,
Your sister Mariah loves you too

Evangeline, Evangeline you're with the angels now,
Evangeline, Evangeline goodnight

Back to the grind

I go back to work on Tuesday... I'm such a mix of emotions...

Happy to be getting back to a routine, to be with people who I've grown close to and I know will support me, and to get out of the house that I've confined myself to these last few weeks. I'm optimistic that returning to work will help me in my grieving process. I certainly won't forget what I'm going through but hopefully I'll begin to feel like I'm living again by doing what I love, helping other people.

Scared that triggers will set off my emotions at work (such as seeing new babies or helping new moms or pregnant women with products), that people will treat me differently or won't want to bother with me because I'm too fragile, and scared that maybe this will all be too hard for me. I know I just have to jump right in and hope for the best, after all my family needs me to, but that doesn't make me any less scared.

But mostly I'm sad... There, I said it, sad.

I'm so sad that I am returning to my job as a completely different person. I am no longer "Robyn, the carefree, fun, happy person." I am "Robyn, the emotionally fragile, only do my work and go home." person. I love my coworkers and I know they will be understanding but I'm so sad that they will have to see this new me. I wish I was still the old me... The one who got her work done but had fun while doing it, the one who was so interested to hear stories about everyone's weekends or new happenings in their lives. I feel terrible to say it, but right now I don't care to hear about their weekends or what's new in their lives because I'm so darn stuck on what I'm going through and what I need to do for myself that I can't be too invested in other people's lives. I just need to remain guarded for a little when I go back.

*sigh* I should've been going into my work saying "meet the new baby" not "meet the new Robyn."