Aug 25

A Heavy Weight

I woke up this morning before the sun and thought of Erin. I was wide awake, thinking of her. For then, it was ok. I didn’t cry. I didn’t want to get myself all upset either. I wondered if she woke me up with her presence.

Yesterday was hard. I have this heavy weight on my chest nearly all of the time. Shaun arranged for us to go have dinner with an old friend of his and his family. I had no idea it would just be us and them, and that included his young daughter. It wasn’t her fault, but I had to endure nearly 4 hours of watching someone else’s child play and laugh, and then eat. That brought back memories at our own table, of how stubborn Erin was and about all of the foods she did/didn’t eat. We tried the pleading and begging, the “you will sit here until you finish,” and nothing really helped. She was a picky child.

Oddly, the silverware bothered me the most. It made me think of her favorite character and fun forks and spoons, that are still in our drawer. No offense, but I cannot be around your children right now, whomever you are. It is painful. I had one child, who I was very careful with. I fed her good foods, I didn’t put many chemicals on and in her body, and I always made sure that she was safe. One child – some have many and I had one. And now she is gone. I don’t see how that is fair, but I know that life isn’t fair. I guess I thought I could have one thing that was good…

I was born into a fairly normal home, but at the age of 4 my father died of ALS, and at the age of 7 my mother began dating and drinking heavily. She contributed to an identity crisis and by age 12 I recreated myself and became someone who was rather mean, rude, and crude a good portion of the time. While I didn’t cry often, I did have a lot of anger. She became more and more of an alcoholic even after she divorced her 2nd husband. It is a wonder that I didn’t turn out to be some drug whore but I had somewhat of a good head on my shoulders underneath all of the chaos and drama. I finished college, got my master’s degree, and married Shaun. His family was fairly dysfunctional too, but that is his story to tell. We muddled our way through our young adulthood until I came up pregnant – yes came up because I was supposed to have such a small cervix that sperm couldn’t get through it. At first we were unsure, because we had decided we didn’t want children. But then this beautiful baby was born and we loved her dearly. And we changed our life and our lifestyles and we became parents. Now we are a Mommy and Daddy with no baby, but for over 10 years we had a family and we loved it.

I thought I cried about this yesterday, but I logged in to return to work this morning and realized I was having a panic attack. My chest felt like I couldn’t breathe, and I am suddenly in tears again. Am suddenly in tears. I was going to write was, but I still am.

It amazes me that anyone would ask if we are going to have another baby. Really? Do you think I can replace her? Well some people seem to think so, because one even suggested that if you don’t want to birth one you could adopt. I suppose I could, but it won’t help the hurt in my heart. How could it?

Yesterday evening I could not get Erin’s last days, and moments, out of my mind. That is something that Shaun and I will share forever, and it’s something that I wish we were not bound by. The second guessing is unreal. I think, I should have talked to her more while she was still awake. Did I miss something? I didn’t sit by her bed long enough. I could go on. I hear the last words she was able to say while she was awake, and I feel terribly that before they intubated her I could not understand her behind the mask, because her voice had become weak. I should have tried harder. And before you suggest that I stop doing this to myself, ask if you would do it to yourself. You would. It’s probably natural, but it sucks.

I think, that now I am just starting to miss her so damn much that it’s an extra level to the hurting. I just miss her. That’s all.

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