My Daughter is Dead

I brought my girl 11 daisies today.  One for each month we've been apart.  I can't believe how fast the Fridays have passed by.

Yesterday was a tough day.  The 3rd of the month usually is.  But by late afternoon, I had completely fallen apart.  I'm so weary of the same old thing.  Being heartbroken and constantly misunderstood.  Frustration that nobody gets and pain that can't be explained.  Feelings that make no sense and the quick pat answers to 'fix' me.  The bitterness I feel after every failed attempt to express myself.  I hate it all.

My daughter is dead.

Before that was the case for me, I can't say I could come close to appreciating what that would do to a person, but I like to believe I am not one to dismiss someones' feelings when they confide in me.  I remember someone talking to me about their concern over their weight gain while they were pregnant (I was also pregnant with Rachel at the time and had much bigger problems) and my quick answer was "well, there's bigger things to worry about, you'll be fine" - makes sense right?  I mean after all, my baby was about to die and I would still have baby weight to lose - what did she have to worry about?  Wrong.  I sent her an email the next day apologizing for down playing her feelings.  I never want anyone to think that something that matters to them isn't worth being heard - no matter what could be worse. 

I'm not sure I have the energy to keep explaining these things to people.  And I HATE being made into someone's project no matter how pure the motives. 

I just need support.  The kind that doesn't add to my burdens.  The kind that doesn't come around in an attempt to change how I feel or make me look at things differently so they can feel like they've achieved something.  The kind that is motivated by a desire to serve God and not a way to meet needs that aren't mine, but theirs.

I don't even know what I need....  I can tell you an example of something that happened yesterday that WAS what I needed.  Maybe that will help.

My friend Harlee called and I was sobbing uncontrollably.  I almost didn't answer the phone, but I did.  She waiting for minutes in silence allowing me to cry.  She didn't ask me questions.  She didn't freak out like something was seriously wrong and demand an answer out of me.  She didn't give me that "oh boy, she's still crying" sigh or a pathetic "awww" that I'm so sick of hearing.  She knew.... My daughter is dead.  I started trying to explain what had me so upset and was probably making no sense.  She let me blab for 15 minutes and then offered insight that was helpful.  No quick pat answers that don't apply.  A thought out answer that actually made sense and helped me to understand a part of what was happening in my mind and heart. She didn't change the subject or tell me what I should or should not do.  I didn't get off the phone with a mapped out plan of what I was going to do over the next month to make everything better and help me cry less.  I didn't have a solution for each scenario.  What I had was understanding and empathy.

I'm not looking for people to fix me or solve my problems.  Actually, that just irritates me.  And it would irritate you too if you just lost a child. I'm not looking for someone to come up with a solution to everything that I talk about.  Sometimes I'm just thinking out loud - and almost all of the time, the things that I need to figure out, I NEED to do on my own with God.  So, while I long for human connection and understanding - I don't need solutions.  But I also don't want dead air on the other side of the phone (or staring at me) with a random uh-huh or sigh. And throwing in a 'positive' thought about the new baby coming doesn't help either.
Doesn't anyone understand why even the new baby is hard?  I mean, after all my writing... all my days of pouring my heart out and explaining myself.... does ANYONE get it??  Or is it just another thing that I should be viewing differently in your eyes?

Maybe I want too much.  Maybe I need too much.  Maybe I expect too much.  Maybe I just confide in the wrong people.  Maybe it's time to start my alone time that I was planning for after the baby.  Because I'm starting to realize that it all just seems to be adding sadness.  Maybe I'm better off alone.  Maybe I'm learning the hard way that the only One worth trusting with my heart is my God.

I'm so tired.  I'm emotional.  I'm hormonal.  I'm irritable.  And I have a lot of stuff going on.  Heavy stuff.  Stuff that a couple word answer will never solve and a lifetime of tears won't take away.

My daughter is dead.