Her Every Little Thing

As a general rule, I don't cry much over Rachel anymore.  Maybe a tear here or there, but not usually.  I guess I've arrived at the place we (everyone else) call 'healed'... at least as far as my outward appearance might show.  I can tell because people don't shy away from talking to me as much. I still feel heavy hearted at times, but even those are more spread out.  And there may be minutes that pass that she isn't on my mind, but not an hour... not 43 minutes. 

I think about her all the time.  In every conversation, even when nobody talks about her.  If you speak to me, even about say the cold your child has or what you ate for dinner the night before or somewhere you visited... you may not know it, but I can *guarantee* you that at least once while I appear to be listening, I am thinking "Rachel".  And since I'm a good multi-tasker, I can also completely engage in our talk - or in whatever else I'm doing in 'normal' life...reading the kids a book, changing a diaper, teaching grammar, going to gymnastics.... but that's because tears don't fall much anymore so nobody knows - just me.  I just carry the weight on me, but it's not obvious to you most days and unless you have been in my exact shoes, you don't even comprehend what I mean - not because you don't want to, but because you can't - even if you think you can. 

So as I mentioned in my last post, I've been working on the care packages for her birthday.  I ordered boxes well over a month ago and they came and I didn't like them.  They were way too big and ugly. I've traveled hours of combined time and used lots of gas looking for the perfect boxes at a good price and they weren't falling into my lap like they did last year.  I've also done the same high and low search for photo albums... and outfits... and in the end, I've spent more money than I started out planning on...

But all but one of the new items arrived today.  And they are *beautiful*.  My sister was here when they came and she couldn't believe they were for the hospital.  And I can't either.  They are amazing.  And I want to get one to put Rachel's stuff in because they are *that* nice.

If you remember last year the hospital had told me they weren't sure they would be taking boxes in the future... and I went ahead and bought it all without talking to them first, figuring I could always donate it somewhere else if Maine Med didn't take them. 

I just got off the phone with Alice at the hospital... and it's a go for December 3rd.  She knew who I was when I said "Rachel".  That's happened to me multiple times this week alone - including in the OR with Ezra on Monday and on the phone with the community clothing closet today.  People know Rachel.  It's amazing.

I hung up with the hospital and smiled and before I even fully finished my happy emotion, my smile turned to tears.  And now I can't stop crying...  and I guess it had to happen sooner or later - it is November.  And November makes me cry.  Has for the last 4 years. 

I can't believe she's dead.  I can't believe it.  I mean, I obviously know it happened but how?  And why?   I should have a little 4 year old girl running around our home right now and instead I'm picking boxes to bring to other families of dead babies. 

It's so sad.  It's overwhelming.  It's maddening.  It's unbelievable.  It breaks my heart over and over again and will until the day I die.  I was so unprepared for this.  I thought I would move forward from her like I did after losing Silas... that because I had lost a baby before I was familiar with it all and it would get easier with a little time and then eventually be a sad thing I would always remember as the hardest thing I went through, yet not be a source of sadness for my ENTIRE freaking life.  That the anniversary of her death would remind me and bring me back, maybe even make me sad, but not be a part of my every day survival.  I was so ignorant.  I was so wrong.  And I was so not ready.  And even today, I'm still so caught off guard by how this doesn't ever go away. 

I just want my little girl.  I don't even need her healthy and "perfect", I would take her in any way she could stay... just if she could stay. 

I should have seen this coming, I was on the way to buy daisies yesterday.  4 years of daisies always on my counter....  and a song came on from long ago and even though I had just put make up on, (yes that factors into if I allow myself to cry) I started crying, thankful for my sunglasses as I sat at the light with visions of my time with her in my head...

"Lying close to you feeling your heart beating
And I'm wondering what you're dreaming,
Wondering if it's me you're seeing
Then I kiss your eyes and thank God we're together
And I just wanna stay with you
In this moment forever, forever and ever

I don't wanna close my eyes
I don't wanna fall asleep
'Cause I'd miss you, baby
And I don't wanna miss a thing"

 

 

Random things I wonder about Rachel.... Could she see me or was she blind?  Was she able to have 'thoughts'?  Feelings?  Did she know I was there?  Did she feel my love?  Would she be left handed?  Have blonde hair?  Does she know I stayed awake to spend every moment I could with her.... that I did everything I could to not miss a thing? 

 

Does she know how much I miss *every*, *tiny*, *little*, thing?

 

Because I miss her so much that, even though I'm afraid of what it might feel like, I beg God to let me see her in my dreams - it's been 4 years and I still have yet to dream of her once.  But maybe all my daydreaming makes up for it....

 

For every ounce of fighting I did to not close my eyes... to not fall asleep... to not miss a thing when I was in that hospital room on December 3, 2010 - and even pregnant with her... I now equally yearn for time to close my eyes and fall asleep just to go to a place where maybe the reality of her absence will leave me and I can escape back to the moments of being with her.  Because I don't want to celebrate her 4th birthday by bringing memory boxes to the hospital.  I want to throw a ballerina party and make her a birthday cake.  I want to wake up to her asking for a drink and reminding me it's her birthday and telling me what she wants for presents.  I want her.  I miss her.  I want to know her.  I want to take care of her.  I miss her "things".... her every little thing.