back in september

(disclaimer: this post is really raw)

I keep reliving every moment. The good and the bad, mostly the traumatic. My heart and my mind still aren’t connecting in some ways. I just want everything to make sense and it doesn’t. Our little E was perfectly healthy. Perfect. What happened? What went wrong? “The placenta was too damamged by the bleeding”. How is that an answer? I know that even if I had an “answer” it wouldn’t be good enough.

I try so hard to understand, to try and make sense of everything and I let my mind go back to the first time I started bleeding and how terrified we were, to when they told us she was barely growing, to the first time on bedrest, to the first time they told us our chances of her surviving were slim, to the heart monitoring almost daily and then to the day I just knew something wasn’t right…

and it wasn’t.

I mostly flashback to the day, September 14th, when I realized something was terribly wrong. When searched for her hearbeat but only found mine racing because I knew she was gone. I flashback to the 3 days of labor and how often I’d ask them to drug me up not only so I wouldn’t feel anything physically, but because I didn’t want to feel anything at all. It was all too much. I remember as I was in labor and the tiniest part of me hoping for a miracle still. Hoping that when I delivered her, she would be screaming at the top of her lungs. That our daughter who we’d been dreaming of, and we’d all been hoping and praying for, would be alive.

I flashback to the moments we first held her. The first time I laid eyes on her and how beautiful she was. I close my eyes and cling to those memouries for they are all I have. I try and remember the peace I felt as I held her because I sure as hell don’t feel that peace now. I flashback to holding my beautiful, yet lifeless daughter…. and this is where I stay.

I feel stuck there. I feel as though I left her back in September and my life keeps moving forward at full speed. I need to go back and get her and bring her home… but I can’t. It’s like a horrible, terrible nightmare playing over and over in my head but it’s not a nightmare, it’s our reality. She is gone.

The mother heart in me is unsettled. As a mother you’d give anything to protect your child, to make sure they are nourished and well taken care of. You’d give your life for them in a second.

One day my fms sat us in her office and told me Eisley’s chances of living were close to none. She hoped that she would make it but believed that she would not. She told me I had a few options. 1. I could stay in the hospital doing what I was or 2. I could go home and live life like I was before and “let nature take it’s course”…

I felt so sick. How dare you even suggest that to me? The heart of a mother knew to keep fighting regardless of what the chances were, regardless of the heartbreak I might possible feel is the very thing we’d hoped for didn’t happen. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself had I chosen the second option. It wasn’t even an option for us.

We fought, and fought, and fought to keep her alive. And she fought, she fought a fight a baby never ever should. I am so proud of her and how hard she fought to live. They always told me she was “beating the odds” and “she is a fighter”.

I often think “why?”, “what happened?”, “what really went wrong” and have even ventured to the questions of “why us?” “why Eisley?”

I find myself in these really uncomfortable and sometimes terribly horrible places as I’m reminded of our loss. Our grief is constant and yet it’s also revisited with each flashback or reminder that she’s gone. Revisited as I suddenly remember the dreams I had for her and things I wanted to do with her and for her. Even silly things like the cute outfits and accessories and headbands and barretts that I wanted to make for her. How I’d imagine her first year photoshoot in a little tutu and pink converse. How I’d dreamt of her first canvas painting (like we did with Chase) in pink and orange paint everywhere and all over her. How I wanted her to be artsy and crafty like me. How I wanted to dress her like her momma. How I created teal and pink converse just so the two of us could be matchy matchy… the list goes on, and on, and on….from the tiniest and silliest little dreams to the biggest, most meaningful dreams.

I am also having a hard time differentiating truth and lies of people’s intentions towards me and it’s almost impossible for me to think clearly regarding this area right now. I am trying to find the balance in my heart and in my head of reading or hearing of what others write or tell me (when they know what we have/are going through) and somehow learning to not take it personally. To somehow let it go and not become wounded and bitter by everyone who writes whatever I read. (I wrote about it a it this post) I’ve even “removed” myself from the social networks for the most part and it’s helped a little bit but it all boils down to grieving and being envious. And the truth is I will always be reminded of our loss, especially right now in the thick of it.

Let me just say here I NEVER ever wish what we’ve gone through on someone else (hopefully if you know me, you know that).  I am happy for others and their healthy babies yet I think it makes sense that I am envious. To envy is to have a feeling of discontentment and to be honest I do.  To be jealous of someone is to be resentful of what they have. I am really trying to not go down that path. Please pray for me. I don’t want to resent. I am envious because I miss our girl and the reminders and really hard. Someday they might get easier. But everyone and their mom is having babies or pregnant right now ;) so it’s especially hard.

Just the other night as I drove to pick Ted up from work  (just me), I screamed out the deep anger that’s been welling up inside me and cried so hard that my face was swollen badly and my voice was raw. I am so thankful that God can handle me in that state. I haven’t ventured there often but when I do it feels so… healing. And He is faithful to remind me of who He is, even still, even amidst.

Where am I at, one day prior to my daughter’s due date? I’m an array of emotions, most healthy and some unhealthy ones that I am working through. I am praying for peace, but I kind of recognize it’s okay that I’m a mess right now. While everything else is unsettled within me I know without a doubt God is with us, He is still trustworthy and my daughter’s life has changed us and so many for the better. I am going to move inspired by her little life. I hope and long to be the voice, the art, the song, the creativity for my sweet E.

I am writing and being pretty vulnerable because I need your your prayers, your love, your support and please, your sensitivity.

Tomorrow is Eisley’s due date. My heart breaks even writing that…please stand with us in prayer for our hearts.