My head is currently just a cluster of thoughts and visions. I’ve spent the last 24 hours in bed, nearly immobile, crying non-stop, and having the nightmarish visions (the ones I have feared since June 15th) hit me hard while I tried to sleep.
I’ve never felt more alone in my entire life, even with so many caring people surrounding me.
But I’ve continued, today, to write my thoughts… trying to get them out of my mind, so I can actually read my own words; so I can remind myself and share the magnitude of the love I feel for my children, even if it means being submerged in the pain of losing one.
Throughout this dark journey, I’ve had unrealistic thoughts like, “I’d give up years of my own life to get Norah back” or “I wish there was a way to buy Norah back.”
I yearn to watch her grow and smile. I yearn to feel happiness again within my soul, as I watch all three of our girls thrive in their individual stages.
I want to be able to hold and hug and hear ALL of my kids, not just 2/3 of them!
I see babies who were born after Norah, who are beginning to surpass her eternal age of 3 months and 22 days. I see them reaching milestones that we don’t get to experience with her. That concept continues to confuse me.
I hate that I couldn’t protect her from this monster who shows no signs, gives no warning, and leaves no answers.
I couldn’t help her.
I couldn’t save her.
“Mom guilt” has an entirely new meaning for me now. It’s crushing. Paralyzing. And no one can help me or make it better.
I wish I could undo this nightmare. I wish my family could go back to being untouched by this type of horrific death and never ending grief. I wish I could have my family of five piled under one roof again… happy and crazy, rolling through life.
I miss that life.
I’d give anything just to have those simple times again.