The Waiting Game

Delilah would have been three months old on Monday.  Transitioning into her non newborn sized clothes, starting to recognize our faces apart from other people. 
It was three months since we said good bye on Tuesday. 
Three months to check off from the waiting.  Six more months until we can try to make another little baby.  And maybe if we are lucky enough her little soul will come back and make a new home in the new little pod we will make for her. 
All I can do is wait.  Live each crappy day until the day that I can start to live again.

Happy Mothers Day

Happy Mothers Day.  Congratulations I failed.  I don't get to be a mommy, I lost my baby.  My sweet Delilah, she passed away.  So today, instead of getting pampered; I get to build a pen for the birds.  I get do laundry and the dishes.  I get to make dinner and clean.  I get to be sad and miss my baby.  I don't get flowers, I get to buy flowers to put by my baby's urn.  Today was difficult, I didn't get acknowledged that I was a mommy.  My husband didn't even tell me that I  was a good mommy to Delilah.  I got ignored. 
I don't get to be a mommy here on Earth.  But I got to be her mommy.  Holding her, and seeing her.  Those nine months with her.  Thank you Delilah.  I treasure every moment I had with you.  My memories of you is the best Mother's Day present.  I love you Delilah.  Mommy loves you.
I just wanted some validation that I was your mommy. That I am your mommy.

Random

If our home blew up and we all died, it would be ok.  I said that to my husband the other day.  It was after he was telling me about his job and how management wad treating him.  I told him we would be happier if we were dead.  Then we would get to be with Delilah and be a family again. 
Thoughts like that have been entering my mind more often lately.  Dark and twisty per Meridith and Christina.  On Friday there were two idiota on Bart.  They were drunk off their asses and harassing another rider.  One of them was trying to temper down the other.  They annoyed me.  I thought to myself that ppeople like that don't deserve to live.  They are trash.  Idiots that don't take their lives seriously.  Why did Delilah have to die and garbage like that gets to live.  I wanted to kill them.  I wanted to cut their throats and watch them bleed out.     
But Delilah would not want me to think that way.  She was such a sweet and kind soul.  Why did she not get to stay?  She would have been three months old today.  In theory starting to wear her "3 month" clothes.  Then we would have been putting away her newborn clothes for her possibly for a future younger sister.  But Delilah never got to wear her newborn clothes.  I never got to put her little socks on her or snap the little snaps on her onesies.  I never got to wash my darling little girl. 
I miss her so bad.  Today will be a bad day, but I should concentrate on her life and the time we had together. Tomorrow will be worse.  Tomorrow will be three months since we said goodbye.

Thank you Delilah

Recently a really kind person referred me to an awesome blog.  The Momma writing is very inspirational.  Even in her darkest time she still seems hopeful and is not forgetting the happiness and joy that her baby brought her.  She is not succumbing to the darkness. http://meetbabydub.wordpress.com/

After reading her blog I realized some things:
 -I should cherish every moment I had with Delilah, not just the 15 hours I had with her after she was born but those beautiful nine months that I had with her.  Every precious kick and jab, the pokey heel of her foot, knee or elbow pressing out my belly button.  Now every time I look at my half inny/outie belly button I should think of Delilah and her happy little dance parties she used to have in my belly.
-Delilah made me a nicer person, she managed to teach me patience and to be nicer to other people.  It was like she somehow managed to turn off the mean button.  I didn't get as mad at crazy drivers, I didn't lose my temper at customers.  She taught me happiness, I was smiling all the time.  I was talking to people.  Now I hide and avoid people at work, my hopeful vision of the future has to my feet where I look to avoid the looks of others.  I am sad and cry all the time.
-Delilah was a fighter, she fought to live and survive.  She was tough, she even managed to find the energy to open her big brown eyes and look me in the eyes.

I need to honor my daughter, I need to do right by her, not just doing things on her behalf but taking care of her family.  I need to remember the lessons she taught me.  I need to find happy again and not let the sadness take over, I need to be strong like her and make her proud.  I need to concentrate on the happy times.  It will be hard but I need to start trying harder, I'll make you proud baby girl and not forget the lessons that you taught me.  

Still going...

After returning to work a about two weeks ago my time has been occupied by work.  When there is lots of paperwork to do great! Otherwise it gets quiet and I start to look at Delilah's pictures and my mind goes to dark places. Then I get all worked up and sad.  I think that returning to work has been mostly good for me. It takes up my time and forces me to at least physically be more "normal."  I get up and get dressed, I don't just stay in my pajamas all day thinking about how I am without Delilah.   I eat lunch and talk to people
I'm not just alone for the whole day waiting for my husband to come home and crying uncontrollably by myself.  The world keeps on moving and I need to be part of it.  I've noticed on the forum that I frequently stalk a lot of the moms from when I started posting on my loss are not there anymore.  I see it as a sign that people keep going and it will hurt less. 

Realization

I realized that I have been in denial for the last two and a half months.  I knew Delilah had passed away.  I am reminded everytime I wake up.  Everytime I walk pass the closed door of her room.  Every car trip, Bart ride.  Everyday at work at home.  When I eat.  When I get ready to sleep.  When I shower.  When I pretend to watch tv with my husband.  I think about the hole in my being all the time.  I kept convincing myself that I would get my Delilah back.  I still think that Delilah's soul might come back to me and be my next child.  But that's the thing.  She would not be Delilah anymore.  Those little hands that I held as the wheeled her away to be transferred to a different hospital, those little fingers, such shiny little.  Nails like she had some how gotten herself a manicure.  I'll never get to hold those little hands again or see them rainbow cored from a morning of finger painting.  Those little feet with her long toes.  Feet that her daddy says look like mine.  Those little feet never touched the ground.  Her perfect heart shaped face.  I'll never get to kiss her forehead or cheek again.  Her big brown eyes and long lashes.  We'll never again look into each others eyes.  Her defined upper lip and pouty lower lip will never kiss me good night.  I will never see her grow up, make friends.  I'll never see her hide the yucky food on her plate in Maple's mouth.  My Delilah is gone.  She is gone and I miss her so much.

Chatter

Today I cried at work.  I cried and it was ugly.  One of my co-workers came by to talk to me.  She had lost her 13 year old to cancer.  I cannot imagine what she went through.   I just had a small amount time with my Delilah before she passed, I can't imagine what I would do.  She spoke to me of God and how I have to believe.  I don't.  Not exactly or in a traditional way.  I guess it's more comforting to think of your child as with "the creator."  I cried some more later when another coworker went to talk to another lady in the cubicle next to mine.  She just had her grandbaby a few weeks before Delilah was born.  She was tellin the other lady how her grand baby was starting to coo and make noises.  Delilah would have been doing that soon too...  I miss her.