The last few days have been very rough. I've spiraled down into a dark abyss. There is no light just sorrow. It's three in the morning, the 14th. How I hate that day. Yesterday Delilah would have turned six months old. Rolling and startling to want to crawl!!! But no. No pampers cruisers or crawl with me turtle. Just dissapointment. Dissapointment in myself. I hate myself. I should have known. Should have done better kick counts. Should have taken labor more seriously. She tried to tell me something was wrong. A week before I went into labor I had a weird urge to look up placenta and that thing scared the crap out of me. Why didn't I understand that she was trying to tell me something. I hate myself for having failed her. My beautiful loving little girl. I hate myself for not being able to protect her. I hate myself. I wish that I had died instead.
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