....Birthday....

So, besides the anniversary of "all the sad things" having me out of sorts, the dates of everything are really bugging me too.  For one thing, I've always gotten a huge kick out of the whole "Ides of March" thing, but now it seems that the joke is on me.  For another thing, while March 15th was her birthday, there was nothing happy about it.  It was a bad, terrible, awful, sad day, so how can I say or even think "happy" birthday?  I can't really.  And even further, March 15th wasn't even her death day.  I don't even know exactly when she died.  So this date of March 15th seems awfully arbitrary...it neither celebrates her life, nor commemorates her death.  It WAS the day I got to see her and hold her, so I guess there is that.  So we will use it because it is the only date we have.

Alexandra and the twins made cards for Lillianna and we took them to the cemetery.  We released balloons and prayed a decade of the rosary - the Carrying of the Cross.  And to be honest again, though I fear it reflects some fundamental flaw within me, I hate going to the cemetery.  It's not that I have an apprehension about going, or that I feel extra sad there....it really just does nothing for me except make me grouchy.  We stand there around a patch of dirt and I know it's supposed to somehow be meaningful for me, but it's just not.  So I'm irritable because I know I'm not getting whatever it is I'm supposed to be getting out of it.  But I think it's important to have some sort of tradition or ritual for the other children, so at least once a year we will do it.

On top of that, her grave marker was missing.  We sort of guessed where she was, and Josh went to the office to get the exact location.  We were only one grave off.  The little guys had a grand old time running around while we waited for Josh to get back, but Jane kept threatening to topple into a freshly dug hole.  I found that unpleasant.   I do feel more strongly about getting a proper headstone for her soon though.  Playing "guess which grave" every year will not likely do much to alleviate the difficulty that I have with  cemeteries.  We did see one headstone near Lilliana's grave that had a picture of the baby who was buried there on it.  I liked that and I think I would like to do that for Lillianna.  Being able to look at her picture while we visit her grave might help me to feel more of a connection.

I have knitted a number of teeny little hats that I am planning on taking to the hospital where I gave birth, to donate for other stillborn babies.  I painted a nice little box for them.  I will probably do that within the next few days.

And then the days will keep on going and the time since I held her will grow longer and longer.  Maybe by Monday I will feel normal again and we can resume a reasonable home life and schedule. 

Almost a Year...

One year ago today, my baby was already dead inside of me, but I didn't know yet.  We spent the day at a park with Josh's family and grandmother who was visiting from out of town.  We went to an Irish pub for dinner and I had fish and chips.  The kids were talking about building a machine to shrink themselves to go on an adventure in a mini-submarine.  It wasn't until that night in bed that I noticed I hadn't felt her move all day. 

I feel incredibly alone right now.  It's no one's fault.  No one else can possibly experience it and remember it like I do.  Physically the whole ordeal is almost a year old now.  But in my mind I am reliving all of it, as though I were in the same place, lying in the same bed waiting and waiting for my baby to be born.  Except I was more numb then and I can feel more now.  I can attach thoughts and feelings to the experience with far more clarity.

When it was actually happening, everyone was aware of what I was going through....maybe even more aware than I was.  I was told to lay in the bed while my every need was anticipated.  They comforted me and brought me food and pumped me full of drugs.  But that time has gone and now I'm alone with my memories and life has gone on.  It may seem strange...I feel obligated to say that I'm glad I'm here now and not there then, but it's not true.  Of course I do not ever ever ever want to experience that kind of loss again, not a new one.  But since that is where my brain is, back close to a year ago, why can't my body be there too?  With my baby still inside me, the closest I ever was to her...with the whole world revolving around me and my loss and my pain...everyone caring for me in every way while I just lay there in sadness?  But no.  She is gone and everyone is living their lives while I am trapped in my mind completely alone. 

I know how selfish and self-pitying I sound.  Oh well.

Insomnia

I can't sleep.  One year ago today, my baby was still alive.  Whenever I lay down, all I can think about is my last week with her. 

Lent

As I was thinking today about what I should give up for lent I remembered that last year Lillianna died shortly after Lent began.  At the beginning of Lent we had a family discussion about what sacrifices we would make as a family as well as individual sacrifices.  Then, six days later, I gave birth to my stillborn baby.  Some time shortly after that, we ordered take out.  Our kids were quick to remind us that take-out was one thing we had given up for lent.  In my mind I thought, "Who cares, I gave up my baby for Lent instead."  To the kids I just said, "Many of the things we had planned, not only for Lent but for everything, have changed.  Things are hard right now and even though we haven't stuck to our original plans, we should still each try to think of small sacrifices me can make every day instead."

I knew, even at the time that my internal resentful attitude was wrong.  I couldn't very well claim to have given up my baby for lent when I had absolutely no choice in the matter.  Nevertheless, I didn't feel I had the strength at that time to stick with my Lenten sacrifices.  I cringed inside whenever the kids brought it up because I knew I was not providing a good example for them when we should have been turning to God more than ever.

This year, some of my strength has been renewed, though I haven't decided yet what to give up.  But I am determined to make the Lenten season count and resonate and edify us as a family. 

My sweet Lillianna, pray for us.