7 children died today from cancer. My child wasn’t one of them. She is already dead.
I will blog about the 24 hours leading up to her death. But that will be one I keep just for me. Here though moments . . memories will come up I will share you as they do.
I think people have a image of death. . .maybe to ease ourselves. . that its peaceful.
In my. . albeit thankfully limited experience . . its not always.
It is raw and messy and gritty and hectic. . .
it is beautiful and awe inspiring. . .
The 24 hours leading up to her death.
The death of my first baby.
Were some of the most precious hours I have ever lived.
The death of my child . . the experience I had . . was much like birth.
Hard. physical.pain. labor. fear.
. . .love.
And so worth it.
The most beautiful day of my entire life.
. . . . hands down . . .
On that Monday 2.5 weeks ago when we got the call about the bad MRI results. I had a flash of thinking she would die on the 12th. I didn’t tell anybody.
But then a few days later I started told some people. Her doctor called to express her love yesterday morning and said she was shocked. . .but not . . . that I was right for the day my daughter would take her last breath. For the record I was off by about 45 minutes on the time….
It is so much harder than I expected. I told her over and over again it was ok to go . . that sometimes kids lead the way for their parents.
I thought I meant it.
I thought I understood what I was saying.
I know she is pain free and happy.
but I still want her with me. I would give anything to have her back.
Even post seizure frozen in bed with me.
Its that hard and I am simply that selfish.
She changed a lot physically in 24 hours. I want to remember all parts of her . . they are all her and I love them all.
I miss her. Yesterday I tried so hard to stay up till midnight.
Yesterday was the last day I could ever say I touched her and felt her weight in my arm.
I am so beyond broken. So deep dark in a chasm that I can’t see my way out of it. Tony has decided its not time yet for the boys to be home with us.
My cries are too loud. My grief too physical.
I feel like her death has stolen my whole family. I thought she would take a piece of me. But I fear she took all of me.
My sister in law shared that she isn’t getting messages of condolences, but messages of what a inspiration I am and Jennifer was.
I am a pathetic mom right now. I feel like I should know better than any other mother how to appreciate my children and be in the moment. But I can’t. I can’t find it in me.
I screamed at Tony this morning I wasn’t going to shower. I couldn’t wash her off of me.
She is gone. Forever.
She is never coming back.
I don’t think I am strong enough to survive this.
It is so much harder than I ever imagined it would be.
She is gone. Forever.
I tried to leave the house yesterday and couldn’t. I am literally terrified to leave. . .her? I don’t even understand it. But it is so strong and palpable. Tony had to go the funeral home with my sister today. . while I laid in bed and a friend cared for Charlotte.
I can’t remember her before she got sick. Its like my memory of her starts on Oct 28th. Her 6th birthday.
. . . forever 6.
i miss you Jennifer.
so much it steals my breath.