Still going

It's been a while since I last wrote...I suppose I'm a little worried that you'll stop reading if all the posts are the same, which right now they will be. It's now been two months and 6 days since I last hugged my daughter and it's been two months and 7 days since I last hugged her alive. The pain has gotten worse. For me, the pain and the magnitude of her absence is all around me. I spend my days at home with Avery and Lily and I can't walk into a room or look at a toy or a piece of clothing or the bathtub (the list goes on and on) without thinking about her. If I had a way to get out of the house and away maybe that would help. I don't want to run from it, I just need a little rest period from it. There is never a moment in the day that I don't think about her. It doesn't matter what I'm doing...taking Lily to OT, going to Target, putting the girls in the kiddie swimming pool, giving them a bath, feeding them dinner....each of those moments occur and the thoughts in my head swirl around the time that passes ...what would Zoe be doing? would she like eggs and cheese and mac & cheese as much as the others? Would her feeding issues start to resolve if we were able to find a table food that she like the flavor of? I imagine that we would have needed to buy a larger tub to fit all three of them together...with everyone sitting up, laughing, and splashing, trying to drink the tub water, washing each others hair (yes, they do this) I want her there! I want her to enjoy those moments with her sisters and I want her sisters to enjoy those moments with her.

Maybe Avery and Lily already are enjoying them with her. I have had more than one response from mothers and their children since Zoe's death that brings me instantly to tears at the sheer simplicity and innocence in a child's understanding of her death. I had one friend whose daughter is just a year old and they decided to hang a carved angel over her baby's bedroom door. They have named the angel "Warrior Princess Zoe - angel for all babies". They look up at the angel every time they pass through that door. This same friends' sister has young children who sent me artwork of Zoe as an angel. And I got a very touching letter from a past client who has young children. She spoke of a time she sat at her computer watching the Zoe slide show and listening to the music with her four year old daughter. She asked in her letter "how do you explain this to a four year old?" But it seems her daughter already had the answer, she stated simply that God needed Zoe in heaven with Him to watch over all the little kids.

Maybe it is just that simple? In my early conversations with friends when our trio was born, I heard many many times that their children had added Avery, Lily, and Zoe to their bedtime prayers. I always loved so much that children were praying for my girls. Not that I don't think God hears every prayer, I know He does...but sometimes I think He hears the prayers of children most of all. They are still young and wrapped in a cloak of innocence that we adults have long shoved off. To them the world is one open door, one new wonder after another...prejudice is not born yet in their understandings, they laugh clearer and deeper than any adult, their needs are simple and easily fulfilled...such contrast to so many of us adults don't you think? Maybe I need to stop this unending search for why and simply accept what these children are saying to me...because if God listens to the children most of all wouldn't it be the children who have the most important things to say? So maybe it is just that, God needed her, he had a larger job for her to do in Heaven, even larger than he gave her on Earth where she delighted and touched so many hearts and lives. She gave us our marching orders....to keep on going, get the Foundation up and running and start helping others.

And I'll do this, I will, and in my good moments I have desire and drive...but these moments are few and far between. Mostly, what I want is to lay in bed with Zoe, curled up in a comfy blanket and just breathe in every ounce of her being. I want to feel the rhythm of the rise and fall of her chest, I want to hear that little squeal of a laugh, I want to just cuddle up next to her and savor every second...no clock to watch, no meds to give, just Zoe and me, mom and daughter snuggling and comforting.

The grief counseling is going well, it is helping Richard and I to stay focused on communicating, something I am not good at from a verbal standpoint. If a marriage could survive on writing letters, that I could do easily. At any rate, I have my moments of not being able to talk but I'm getting better and expressing my thoughts and he is getting better and listening and helping me work through things. But I have ZERO energy. I often feel like I need to take a nap every time the girls do and I can't function like that. My OB is sending me to the Women's Mental Health Program at Emory which I hope will help. I just need to know if what I'm feeling and thinking is just normal to the grief process or if I'm really developing something seriously wrong in my brain b/c sometimes I do think I kind of teeter on the edge, one little gust of wind and I'd be falling down that cavernous well. So at least I recognize there is a problem and I am getting help and support for the problem. Now I need a magic guilt wand to wave away all my Mommy guilt, all the if only's and the what if's and the I should have's.....they give me nightmares, so I don't sleep. Except now, I'm really tired so I'll continue this stream of consciousness at another date.