Where I am: 2 years 7 months 1 week 1 day

For the last, now few years, I've been joining in on a blog round up called "where I am now", this was started by Angie, over at Still Life with Circles. I love reading her blog. Not only is she an amazing writer, but her words seem to bring out the more poetic side of child loss. I know, my blog isn't the easiest to read, it's usually frank and full of negative emotion. But for me, this place has been a tool for my grief, a way to get the ugly out. And believe me, there is a lot of ugly coming from losing your child. Its obvious there is for me anyways.
Emotions and experiences I really wish I had never had to endure, a side of people I really wish never existed, including myself, words I thought I would never hear from people I love and thought supported me, choices I wish I never had to make, selling things I never got to use and fully expected to.
People tell me often how negative I am bout Stella's death. And I really wish I could find a positive about it, but I have yet to even see a glimpse of one single positive that comes out of her death. For myself anyways. Sure, for her, she gets heaven, she was nothing but loved and held right next to my heart her whole life. She will never have to endure even one of these God awful emotions or burdens life brings, she will never get sick, or feel heart broken. She gets more love then I probably could have even given her, and that's what she deserves. It's a very sacrificial position, being a mother of a heaven baby.

I often wish things went differently for me with her. I personally feel it went the worst possible way it could've with out me dying myself. I don't understand why God didn't just take her at 5,10, or 12 weeks. Why at the VERY end? The exact day after her birth was paid for, every.single.little.thing prepped and ready for her arrival? Why a csection? Why couldn't I have just birthed her peacefully at home, even if she was gone?
I thought there was a chance, as did the doctors for her to live, she was alive. Why blow my hopes out of the water. Prayers go unanswered. Why can't we have an explanation to her death? Why did my midwife ditch me? Why were so many people I love so mean to me in my grief? Saying things like "I hate you like this" and " get over yourself" or  "your hiding behind your grief". Why couldn't she have lived for even 10minutes, 5 minutes? Why couldn't I see her eyes? Hear her cry? She wasn't even considered "a real baby" because she didn't take a breath. Why didn't I spend more time with her? Change her clothes or bathe her? Sleep with her in my room? 

Why couldn't I have a rainbow? Support from who I needed it most, and why could'nt they just give to me what I  needed because they loved me that much? Family and friends who could understand that I hurt, and tell me it was ok? 

A job that was compassionate and understanding and not cold and cruel? 

There were people who were loving and understanding, and I did, and still do appreciate that, deeply. I know they all know who they are. But it was honestly few and far between. Many times complete strangers were more compassionate and sensitive then my own family was sometimes. The harshness occured more as time moved past her, like she was some bad disease I needed to just heal from and be over with. I don't feel I ever really dwelled too much on all the horridness of this, I lived my life still, I smiled, laughed, enjoyed things. But like a big empty hole, she was always missing from the picture. She will always have a string tied to my heart that leads to her in heaven. I know I cant tug on it too much, that will only hurt me.
The last week has rehashed many of these feelings I'm writing about too. My husbands cousin ( I personally consider her as mine too, as we are close to her and her family, closer then even I am with my own cousins really) had a little boy Caleb. He was diagnosed with excencephally early in the pregnancy and god bless her heart to carry him to term. She was able to spend 2 hours with him earth side. Honestly, I've been jealous of that. I know it's pretty damn selfish, but it's honest. She was able to make this horrible experience into something beautiful and strong. As for me, I was slapped in the face at the very end and feel robbed and haven't taken any of it gracefully. 

I've learned to live with my angst, this hole, I've picked up the pieces and just learned to live with the mess. What else can you do? On top of that, I've been selling Stella's belongings. This has not been easy to say the least. Especially selling her diaper stash. That is one lot of items I've had a strong attachment to. I spent a lot of money, time and love collecting them, to never use them and sell them off for FAR less then they are worth to me. So a rehash of emotions on that front have also been into play recently. 

It sucks. 

All these things I need to let go of. Emotions, dreams, aspirations, hopes. Poof. Gone. 

As Angie said, it was the worst magic trick anyone or anything could play on me. On us. 

So, here I am, just learning to get over it, to live with it and deal with it. 

I stopped writing here for awhile so others wouldn't know these feelings that still fester with in. 

Not as strong, not as obvious, not as raw.
But it's love, longing and my missing of her that still dwells with in.
It is hard to hold onto someone who is so close to your heart yet so far out of reach. 

It's difficult to let go of the dreams you had, the things or ones you want in your life. The possibilities you sacrifice for the ones you love, just because you love them. Not that they would ever do the same for you, just because you love them. 

You just get over yourself. 

It's a daily task at that.
A choice I have to make every morning. 

And some days I just want to spend a little time with my littlest, my Stella. In my grief blanket, soaked in tears. 

And please don't tell me it's not ok. 

I'm getting there, wherever it is you prefer me to be. Not where I wanted to be. 

It does still rain, even when the sun shines. 

Over 2 1/2 years seems so far away from her, like its expected that I be over her death all together. 100% back to Krystal, who I sued to be before life was blown apart by the atomic bomb.

So, I try and be where everyone else expects me to be. And when I wallow, i wallow alone, just me and Stella wrapped in a blanket woven out of pure love so deep, only her and I could understand. So only her and I are there. 

Then after I've had my time with her, I fold that blanket up, place it in the deepest part of my heart, lock it, and move on until the next time I need a little love from her. 

I miss her and I always will. 

Triggers are not as harsh, although they still are.
Pain is not as raw, but the scar is still there.
There are more good days then bad, but the bad days still exist.