The journey I'm on

I'd like to think that I am strong, I really would. Maybe it seems that way to others, since my biggest way of communication is through facebook. Facebook is a good way to communicate for me because it enables me to hide the tears. I can be playing any of my games on the computer, and sit here and bawl my eyes out the entire time, and no one is none the wiser.

I think it also hurts me though, because people see me on FB and they don't know what I'm really like or feeling, and so they assume that I'm good, that I'm okay, but I am so far from that... truly I am. I hurt every second of every day. When I'm talking to you about something, my mind instantly turns to Kylie: what would she be doing right now? Would I be holding her on my hip as I talk to you? Would I be holding her bottle with my chin while trying to type my response? Would she be cooing softly from her swing in the corner, or sleeping peacefully in her crib? Those things are always on my mind.

I look for her all the time... look for a flash of light that is unexplained, for an image of her face, for an orb in all photos... I look for her and desperately hope that she will show herself to me, to let me know she is with me and okay, and that she is close. Is that crazy? Maybe so.

With everything that is going on with us lately, I just think back to September and how so many things went wrong at one time... how no one would listen to me and give me teh care I needed and deserved... and since September, my life has been in a downward spiral. I really feel like I've been treading water for days, and I'm so exhausted that I can barely keep my head above the water long enough to take a deep breath... it feels like I will completely tire any minute, and then I'll sink to the bottom. I just can't handle anything else going wrong or happening....

I want to be a mom. I have always wanted to be a mom, but even now, I have my doubts. No other baby will replace my Kylie. No other baby will come close to being her. I even am afraid I won't love them like I love her, that I might build some kind of resentment towards them because they are not her. I know- what a terrible thing to think. I'm sure that when the time comes, it won't be like that, but right now, I miss her so terribly and love her so deeply and WANTED her so badly... well, I just can't help but think of those things. I didn't want a Sarah or a Mandy... I wanted Kylie... my Kylie. We picked her name for her because it was just so perfect... we were having a little princess. My life-long dream had come true, and my dream to be the first one to have a girl out of all the boys.. that came true, too... I had my daughter. I was going to be a mommy, and my life was going to be complete. I had my husband, my goddaughter, and my daughter on the way. Life was not going to get any better than that (unless of course, we were blessed with more children).

It's strange how our plans have chagned so drastically. We went from being happy-go-lucky, to trying to make it to 30 weeks, to trying to save Kylie's life, to saying goodbye, to learning to cope with the loss, to being completely lost ourselves. Now, I don't know where I'm going... I feel kind of blind.

The journey of a mother to an angel child is so much different than the journey of a mom to an earthly child, and it is so much more difficult and painful than anyone could ever imagine. I'm not saying that just to say it- I am saying it because I mean it. I would give anything to be able to wake up five times in the middle of the night with Kylie, to pick her up at every opportunity possible... I would give anything for every moment on this earth with her.

Scrapbooking pages for Kylie's book

These are two of my favorites. The purple sparkles (and purple is my favorite color), and the other one says this: "There are only two lasting bequests when can hope to give our children. One of these is roots, the other, wings." -Hodding Carter (I think this is the most fitting quote for our child than any other. It is so beautiful.)

Above: the top two are clouds and then various polka dots on purple paper, then the next two are of course pink with white polka dots, and then a cream colored sheet that has "mom to be" "expecting" and all kinds of pregnancy related things. The last one is specific to the hospital we delivered. The black says Huntsville Hospital, and below each black line is a line in pink that says "It's a girl!" over and over.

Above: top row is initial paper, just has "K" all over it. Beside it is a purple paper that has "daughter" written all over it. The next row has a yellow flower paper,and then a paper that alks about "bundle of joy" and all kinds of newborn things, and the bottom one is about "Mom"

Above- some more of my favorites: the top one says "Faith" at the top. What you can't see is that it says "Belief" in the opposite bottom corner, and then right below it at the bottom, it says this: "A little faith will bring your soul to heaven; a great faith will bring heaven to your soul." - Charles Spurgeon... The next row has two papers that just talk about daughters, and then the bottom two are (in green) Grandpa and me and (in pink) Grandma in me. Each of those has a saying that says: "Grandpa's (Grandma's) little angel the apple of his eye I love my grandpa/grandma"- they are perfect for the pictures of mom and dad holding my little angel.

Above- the top one is a picture of one of the "In Loving Memory" pages, as is the 2nd row on the left. The bottom one is pink and talks about "little girl." The one in red, my sister found in the Christmas section, but it is not Christmas-y at all- it says: "You are the gift that made all my dreams come true." Oh, how true that is... how true that is.

The memories aren't as painful...

So Friday, Chris and I decided to go to the chiropractor- I was long overdue. I had not been to the chiropractor since January '09... so it has been entirely too long. There is a scrapbooking place next door to the chiropractor, and the last time I was in there was December when I tagged along with one of Chris's visits. I went shopping while he was getting therapy, and found some beautiful papers to start Kylie's scrapbook. They didn't have any "in memory" papers, but the lady told me she had just ordered some, and to check back in a few weeks.

Well. I forgot about the papers, the stickers, and the store. I didn't have as many therapies as Chris did, so when I finished, I went over to the scrapbooking store- they had two different types of "In Loving Memory" papers- beautiful, beautiful papers, and then I kinda went nuts picking out more paper and stickers.. spent about $12 and really shouldn't have spent money at all.. but what can I say? I'm a sucker for my daughter.

Yesterday, my sister and I went back to the store (insane, I know!), because she didn't even know about it. She went a little nuts in there, too (about $26), and I spent about $5 more on things that I had thought about and really wanted.

So, in saying all that, because we are now displaced to my mom's, I spent the weekend at several instances going to the house and getting things of Kylie's... pictures, momentos, special things... and it was easier to look at them... a little less hurt, if that's possible, but it still made me extremely sad. I miss looking at her tiny little legs and toes, and her sweet little face with my nose.... what a sweet baby she was... I counted the people who signed her guest book at the funeral, and over 160 people signed, not to mention the ones that came and didn't get to sign. It was an amazing thing to look at, because most of the 160 people who signed the book had never met her at all. Some of them had not seen me pregnant. Some of them did not know we were expecting until she was already gone. Some were going through tremendous stress in their own lives, and some were there despite their fear of attending a funeral for a baby. It warmed my heart to see so many familiar names, so many thoughtful signatures, and I could see each of the faces again, deep with grief and concern for me, some with tears building in their eyes, and many with tears already flowing. My little cheerleaders, those sweet, innocent girls... former teachers, co-workers... friends... To know that they were so sweet to show up for me, for us, for Kylie... it really filled me with love for all of them all over again. I know there will be special pages for those people in her scrapbook, because they were an important part of her life.

I've never really been good at scrapbooking, but I'm going to give it a shot. I have a TON of stuff for her scrapbook... I might actually have to do two! I will be getting some pictures of our new papers soon and posting...

The rawness of it all...

On days like today, I could curl up in a corner somewhere and literally cry all day long. Some days, it seems like I've cried so much I can't cry anymore, and then other days I feel like Alice in Wonderland and the flood from Alice's tears...

You see, I feel like I'm jinxed with some bad curse, that my life has become a very cruel, yet very real, joke.

Nearly 9 months ago, I became a mommy to a precious, beautiful, perfect child. Nearly 9 months ago, I became a mommy to a precious, beautiful, perfect angel.
Since then, the medical bills haven't stopped.
Since then, my husband has had a hard time with work: he got punished (though they assured him that he was not being punished- but how do you move someone who worked his way up to his own mower back down to a weedeater all day and call that "not punishment"? Apparently, he's being harrassed by a grown man at work- and they want to blame all of what is going on at work on Chris losing Kylie! It has been so awful), and because they knowingly took him from a mower to a weedeater, fully aware of his severe allergy to poison ivy (he's been treated at the city clinic numerous times), within 3 days of him being on that crew, he was out on workman's comp for a week with severe poison ivy ALL over. Then, apparently the steroid shots they give you for the poison ivy make your immune system low, and within 3 days of being back at work, Chris had double pink eye and possibly borderline bronchitis (for the 2nd time in 2 months). And now, he's been out of work, by the time it is all over, for an additional 7 days, with NO pay. This is stressing me out a ton.

Less than two weeks ago, Chris's motor went out in his truck that we're still paying on... over $3,000 to replace it...

This week, we have discovered a HUGE water leak and mold in our house- so much so that we are now having to stay at my mom's... the insurance company called out the water restoration company, who have de-humidifiers going in the kitchen and bath- it is almost certain that the leak is in our shower. We know for sure it has ruined ALL of our lower kitchen cabinets, and it has ruined some of the drywall in the laundry room and closet- the more we search, the worse it gets. The guy who came out said it is going to be a huge claim- they even think we have a separate water leak in our spare bathroom. It looks like we will be with my parents for about a month or so- and it is so frustrating. While cleaning out my bathroom vanity, I just broke down. Just lost it.

Dealing with all of this on top of my already broken heart has just really brought me to the breaking point I haven't been at in a while. I have to be out of my home, my comfort zone, and of course, all of this is going to set us back greatly in our desire to move. Oh- another thing to upset me... the house we really wanted has been rented for at least a year- in that time, I'm sure I will find another option that I like just as much if not better... but I did love that house.

So, all of these things going on has really brought me to a new low. I just hate all these bad things that keep happening to me.

To top all that off, I didn't ovulate last month. Why did everyone tell me my PCOS symptoms would get better after having a baby? I don't see it getting better for me: I see it getting worse! I've been really swollen in my belly lately, and no period since May 1 (until today- I started today, which is not helping my emotional state or hormones)... and it just seems that I notice more or stronger symptoms every day.

All I ever wanted was to be a mom... a mom. And now, my life is such a mess I don't know which way is up.

The picture sums up me right now- you see, I am desperately trying in that photo to smile, because I am holding my baby.... but those tears are building and building, and inside, I am a wreck... a horrible, broken, mangled wreck that can't be fixed or repaired... and again, now, I feel that way... I miss Kylie terribly, and all of this other stuff on top of it, well, it just makes it ten times harder to get up in the morning.

Right now, I hate life. Not the "suicidal" type of hate- no guys, I'm not that crazy. Just the- "I'm-fed-up-what-else-can-go-wrong" hating right now... Ugh.

Grief and Relationships

Friends are like melons; shall I tell you why? To find one good you must one hundred try. -- Claude Mermet

Ahhh... yes, I have come to a topic that is a bit touchy for some, a bit "taboo" for others, and yet, eerily important to a select few.

You see, grief is an all-consumming, life-changing thing. It's funny how I can talk about grief like I know it so well, because in all seriousness, it surprises ME every day. One day it sits quietly behind the door, and the next, it jumps out in front of me... some days it stays patiently at my heel, and others it crawls right into my skin. Some days it whispers to me softly, and others it screams inside my head. It is an unpredictable, ever-changing, very difficult process. It is not easy to explain, so I won't try, but what I do know is that my new grief has changed me. It has changed who I am, who I was going to be, who I want to be, and who I was. That person I was in September of 2009 does not exist anymore... well, maybe pieces of her exists, but that person as a whole is no longer with us. Even the person I was from October 1-15 is someone different. In September, I was a mommy-to-be, getting ready to start a new journey in my life. From October 1-15, I was Kylie's Mommy, a NICU mommy, and a mommy to the most perfect earthly daughter.

October 15-present, I am a grieving mommy to a Heavenly daughter, still Kylie's Mommy, but no longer a NICU mommy, no longer a mommy-to-be, no longer with all the same hopes and dreams. On October 15, part of my heart left me and went peacefully with my daughter as she joined the numerous ranks in Heaven... and that part of me will be empty until I join her. Ah, but what is the point you ask?

Because I am changed, because I am still changing, so have my relationships, and so have my friendships. I have become closer to some, and I have slipped further away from others. I have made new friends, and I have completely lost old friends. I have received such wonderful sympathy and empathy from so many people, but yet, some people cannot handle me needing so much, and that has affected relationships. People don't know what to do with me- they really didn't know what to do with me right after, but now that some time has passed, they are even more unsure... "Should we tell her we think she needs to move on?" or "Should we still tell her we are thinking of her?" or "She must want some time to herself. I'll leave her alone." Those are only a few of the thoughts I know people have had. It's fine; I don't know what to do with me either.

I used to be a really good friend. I would do anything for my friends, would do for them even if it meant I had to go without. Since losing Kylie, I'm a crappy friend, I think, because I have to be selfish. If I can't even take care of myself, there is no way I can take care of someone else or be there for them the way I used to. I do expect a lot of my close friends, because they were THERE. They met Kylie, they saw her live, they saw her after life. They saw me become a mom and then have my life-long dream ripped away from me. How could you not watch something like that and be affected? I'm sure i couldn't. I'm sure that if, god forbid, something like this happened to one of them, it would rip my heart out again for them- because this pain, this agony, this never-ending rollercoaster is pure HELL. It sucks.

I say this to say that I am feeling quite alone these days. It's hard to keep faith in anything or anyone anymore... because it feels like I've been let down in so many ways. God has let me down, people I care about have let me down, I have let myself down, and I'm sure there's more there... I'm tired of being let down because I expect too much, but I guess thats the thing. I should expect a lot from my friends and family, right? I should expect that they will help take care of me, since sometimes I feel I'm barely hanging on. Isn't that what friends do??

Does any of this make sense at all, or do I sound like a huge rambling mess? I just have a ton on my mind, I guess....

"If every tear we shed for you became a star above; you’d stroll in
Angel’s garden, lit by everlasting love."
~Author Unknown

An update on what is going on

All of that in the last post brings me to present-day... and what is going on with us right now.

1.) Through my RTS Bereavement Group that we are a part of each month, some doors have opened for us. The leader of the group was asked to be on a community action team that reviewed infant deaths, and she asked for me to join the meeting back in April. I've been to three meetings now, and I have to say that this committee has some great things to help parents prevent losses, deal with losses, and heal after losses. This committee is also giving me the means to do some of the things I have watned to work on and get going for our city and for the parents who have lost babies/pregnancies in our area- and it is amazing. The women on this committee are amazing- women of faith, who are in the medical profession, and even several who have suffered a loss of their own. I know we will do great things for parents through our work. It is an honor to be on this committee.

2.) The first line of work in this is to make sure that all aspects of our main hospitals, along with doctors, ERS, and pediatricians, have the same information to give to parents so that they are aware of the resources available for them, no matter when or where their loss occurs. I am actually working with marketing at the hospital I delivered in order to make sure the information they give is informative, yet sympathetic to bereaved parents.

3.) The next line of work is to work on other resources for bereaved parents and helping them cope and get the assistance and support they need. The big thing? My idea for an October 15 remembrance ceremony... and it is coming to fruition THIS YEAR! That is consumming a lot of time- we just worked on the program, and basically all the pieces are falling in to place... so I am thrilled that we will have this program. It is already receiving such positive support and feedback. We really need this in our area.

4.) My personal project now is to create a foundation so that every parent at both hospitals in our area are provided with a book, a special one that I feel is so important in helping me sort out my own grief. This book was one I had recommended to me, so what I want to do is make sure NICU, Labor and Delivery, and even ER/doctor's offices have these books to provide to parents when they have a loss, free of charge. This is my ultimate goal- the front cover will have a sticker on the inside "Given in memory of Kylie Brielle Keith" and then links to our new site to support parents on facebook/internet... this is going to be HUGE!

So right now... that is what is going on. Oh- our March of Dimes director asked me to send her our story and photos- they are putting it on the MOD website to honor us! We are still, apparently, the top family fundraising team in the state of Alabama- $8,014!!!!!!!!! =) What a way for Kylie to touch even more lives....

Not really good at this..

So apparently I'm not great at this blogging thing- I'm trying to get better at it- I really am. I'll do better.

I figure the best way to update is for me to post some things from my facebook notes so that you will know what's been going on with me. I've had a very hard time lately, missing my little girl, but some really amazing things are happening in her memory and honor. I will start with May and work down until now, so bear with me:

This post is from May 8, 2010:
Dear Mr. Hallmark,

I am witting to you from heaven, and though it might appear.
A rather strange idea, I see everything from here.

I just popped in to visit, your stores to find a card.
A card of love for my mother, as this day for her is hard.

There must be some mistake I thought,
Every card you could imagine.

Except I could not fine a card,
From a child who lives in heaven.

She is still a mother too, no matter were I reside.
I had to leave, she understands, but oh the tears she's cried.

I thought that if I wrote you, that you would come to know,
That though I live in heaven now, I still love my mother so.

She talks with me, she dreams with me, we still share laughter too.
Memories are our way of speaking now, could you see what you could do.

My mother she carries me in her heart, her tears she hides from sight.
She writes poems to honor me, sometimes far into the night.

She plants flowers in my garden, there my living memory dwells.
She writes to other grieving parents, trying to ease their pain as well.

So you see Mr. Hallmark, though I no longer live on earth.
I must find a way to remind her of her wondrous worth.

She needs to be honored, and remembered too.
Just as the children, on earth will do.

Thank you Mr. Hallmark, I know you'll do your best.
I have done all I can do, to you I'll leave the rest.

Find a way to tell her, how much she means to me.
Until I can do it for myself, when she joins me in eternity.

By: JODY SEILHEIMER


*****************
To my dearest Kylie,

You granted my life-long wish of becoming a mother. It wasn't your birth, your life, or your passing that made me a mother. It was the creation of you, from the first second you were made. You became priceless at that exact moment, and that exact moment made me a mother. I will, forever, be your mommy, and you will for eternity to be my daughter. This holiday is extremely hard for me, because this time last year, I was opening my first willow tree of motherhood- the pregnant mommy. I got a mom-to-be mother's day card, and I was happier than I've ever been in my life.

And then I think of how desperately I wish to hold you again, how I miss the feel of you in the crook of my arm. I think back to the worst day of my life, which strangely was also a good day in the sense that I finally, after two long weeks of talking to you through plastic, got to hold you in my arms, which I had longed to do since before you were born. I used to imagine what it would be like to creep into your room at night and watch you sleep, and tonight, I know I will go into your room and cry... I will see all of your beautiful things that we bought for you and got ready for you, and I will cry. I will think of you, and my heart will still feel empty. Days like this make me need you more than ever. I was supposed to have you here with me this Mother's Day- I rejoiced in that thought last year.

I love you so, so much... and I miss you more than any words can ever express. You are my whole heart, and I love you deeply.

I miss you sweet girl. Please send extra strength and kisses to me tomorrow, as I will need as many as I can get.

Forever love,

Your Mommy

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This post is from May 17, 2010:

To my dearest little angel,

It has been over 7 months since I last saw you and held you in my arms. Sweet girl, I still have no clue which direction my life is taking me, and I am so unsure of so many things.

However, I am sure that you are the most wonderful gift I have ever been given. You are my life, my light, my whole heart. I love you with every ounce of my being, and I think you are truly, truly amazing. Because of you, my angel, I am trying so hard to help other mommies who have to go through what I am going through. In your name, I am trying my hardest to help other angel mommies cope, heal, and deal. I'm not quite sure how that works, because I am still trying to cope, heal, and deal myself, but it will come.

I am writing you today with some specific requests. First of all, I want you to forgive me. Please forgive me for being selfish-- as a mother, my selfishness comes in my desire to wish for you, to have you back in my arms. It also comes from my inability to be there for my family and friends as they grieve your loss as well, because I am too busy dealing with my own. Please forgive me, as I think I really have to be selfish a while longer, and I think it is important that I still focus on me and my grief, and unfortunately, I think that I will always wish to have you back.

In that same wish, I want you to be with those I love. I know you are with me a lot: I can feel your presence with me quite a bit, even if it is as simple as your open bedroom door that no one has touched in a week, or your tiny little orb in our anniversary picture. I know that you are probably worried about me, and I know that you want to be close to your mommy, but others need you, too. Your Daddy needs you, and Jaycee needs you... Grammy and Gramps need you... Aunt Ashley and Uncle Jon, Granny and Granddaddy, all your family... and your honorary family... Aunt Cait, Aunt Jesspa, Aunt Alicia, Uncle Bobby, Uncle Chris, Uncle Dave... Aunt Amanda... we all need you, and right now, I think some of them need you more than me. Trust me, if I could have you with me 24/7, I would, but I want you to be with them too. Sweet princess, you are so loved and so blessed to have such a huge extended family. Your life has had such an impact on everyone who knew you (and those who didn't), and everyone who was close to you hurts in your loss, especially those who were there the day you passed and held you closely, looking into your sweet little face...

I also want to ask for you to help give me strength. I am going through a very difficult time still, and some days, it is all I can do to get out of bed and put on my "going to work" mask. I feel like I have a mask for everything... a mask for going to work, for spending time with family, for spending time with friends, for being out and about... the raw, real me is too painful to show anyone, even your Daddy. That face is what is on the inside, screaming at me every day... that face is what comes out when everyone else is asleep, the one that cries and cries and seems so ugly and useless without you. No one else sees this face or mask, but I see it every time I look in the mirror. I see it, and it scares me... but yet, life must go on, so I put on my new mask, and I make it through the day, barely, but I make it. I think that my strength is fading, because I am trying so hard to put on a dog-and-pony show for everyone else. By now, so many people expect me to be doing better, to be in a better place, and maybe I should be, but I'm not. I'm tired of fitting into people's expectations of what I should do, think, say, or feel. I need your strength to help me get through this- I can't hide my emotions, and I shouldn't, but I want to deal with them better than bottling them up or exploding.

I also want to ask you to help others understand me. Please help them understand and know that I am still heavily grieving. I carried you in my womb for 7 months... 7 of the most glorious months of my life. I felt you move, flip, kick... I felt your foot pushing on my stomach and could feel the outline of your toes. I watched that pregnany test turn positive, I watched the ultrasound photos go from a small round sac to a little peanut to a baby... where I saw all ten of your fingers and all ten of your toes... and I watched the miracle of life play itself out inside of me. What an amazing blessing to see! And then... you came so early, and I prayed harder than I have ever prayed in my life. And then... I had to hold you as you passed from this world into the next, and watched you take my heart with you. The pain is the most excruciating pain... it is worse than any physical pain, even waking from my c-section with NO pain meds... this hurts so deep down, it is like a wound that won't close or heal. And yet, people expect me to be okay? Sweet girl, I can't be okay, so please help them understand. Help them understand that I MUST talk about you (at work, at home, with my friends, on the computer), help them understand that I must know that they still think about me, you, all of us... that I need to know that they understand why I'm distant at times and needy at others... help them understand that I need acknowledgement of your special days (birthday, angelversary)... and help them understand that I need their support in my endeavors to find a way to keep your memory alive. Help them understand me and what I need, because my grief is all consumming.

Finally, my precious little girl, help me forgive those who have hurt me. Help me forgive those who couldn't, or can't, be there for me... help me forgive those who intentionally said hurtful things and those who unintentionally said hurtful things. Help me forgive those who forget, or let it slip their minds. Help me forgive those who, while trying to comfort, caused a deeper wound, and forgive those who never said anything at all because they didn't know how or what to say. Help me forgive.

Kylie, you are an innocent, beautiful angel baby. Your memory will always be strong with me as your mother... I never want to forget one minute of your short life, and I never want to forget the overwhelming love I feel for you. You have changed my life, and because of you, I hope to change the lives of others.

Thank you to Caitlin for reminding me that others feel this pain, and for reminding me that I don't have to suffer in silence. I don't have to hide my feelings for the sake of others... and I don't have to worry what others think. Thank you for helping me remember.

Until next time, my Kylie Brielle, rest peacefully, and be sweet.

Love forever and ever,

Your Mommy
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This post is from June 1- Kylie's 8 month birthday

So many things going on right now.... so many, many things. Just when I think life is getting easier, better, the tail comes around and whips me across the face, leaving welps and bruises and poison that must be tended to... the kind that scars, burns, and aches much longer than necessary. Right now, I am so frustrated, scared, hurt, sad, depressed... it is all jumbled up and I have no idea what to do with it.

I can't say much about it, but please keep us in your prayers as we struggle with some things at Chris's work. It has me scared stiff and worried sick.

I am finding myself hitting that sick-to-the-stomach stage again, the time that just the wrong word or thought brings me to tears. I can't help it- it just happens. People expect me to be "better" now, but I feel like I'm reversing. On top of being very sad, I am angry again. I am angry that God chose to take my child away from me. Anytime anyone says it is "God's will" or "God doesn't give you more than you can handle," or anything to do with God and how good he is taking care of Kylie, I get angrier. God lets so many people keep their babies and their child, so what the hell did I do that is so wrong to deserve this eternal, never-ending pain? Why are Chris and I being punished, and what are we being punished for? I don't want anyone to tell me that God loves me right now, or that he is holding my child in his rocking chair. I want everyone to know that in the scheme of things, right this moment, that doesn't matter to me. What matters is that right now, I should be holding an 8 month old growing baby girl in my arms. I should be getting up in the middle of the night. I should be changing diapers. I should be buying formula, baby food, and bottles. I should be washing clothes every day that have spit up stains, food stains, and drool on them. I want to know why God thought it was such a good idea to give me my miracle baby, my one wish, and then rip her away from me before she should have even been born. I am constantly reminded of the fact that my arms are empty, the nursery is empty, and the house is "too" quiet.

Please don't judge me because of how I feel right now. I am a grieving mother. You may mean well with what you say, but unless you have lost a child, you will never understand how grief looks through my eyes. You will never understand the searing pain that courses through my veins every moment of every day, and you will never comprehend the agony my nightmares can bring. Unless you have gone through this or something similar, you will never be able to grasp what my life is like.

Each day I wake up empty. Each night I go to sleep feeling even more empty. My arms are heavy all day long with no baby to cradle in them. My eyes have a wall of tears ready to burst at any moment for any and no reason at all. My mind is constantly thinking: how would this be different if Kylie were here? How would she react to this? What milestones would she be having? Who would she look more like now? How would my life be at home? What would Jaycee think of her? How much would she cry at night? There is not a moment of my day that I don't think about Kylie and how my life would be different if she had not died.

Yes, I said it. She died. It's strange to me that I can sit here and play back in my mind the moments of my entire pregnancy through her funeral... I can even see myself in hysterics, begging for my baby back, but unable to stop myself from the rage. I just want to rip things apart, scream, and destroy everything in my way. I want to get her back, breathe life into her, and start all over. I want my baby. I want to be a mom. I want to be a REAL mom to a baby here on earth, not a mom who has no baby to hold. I love my daughter more than anything in this world, and it is so unfair that I can't have her here with me.

I'm not saying any of this for a pity party. This is my place to vent, to let it out, to feel like I am not completely insane.

I am again frustrated because every day I find out someone else is pregnant, and I'm back to that feeling before I got pregnant with Kylie... except, this time, it's ten times worse. I had my baby, and now I don't. Now, I can't get pregnant again, and I cannot wait another five years to conceive again. Every month that it is another "no" is another heart break for me, and I feel if my heart breaks any more, there won't be any of it left. I don't want to replace Kylie- no one ever will replace her. I just want to be a mom. I want to raise a child to know right from wrong, to watch grow and overcome every milestone life has to offer... I want a child to watch walk across a stage to graduate, and I want to beam with pride as I sit through a wedding, and one day... grandchildren. I feel like I have been robbed of so much already, and the least God could do is to help me conceive again quickly, after all He has put me through. I think that is also why I am angry. I know many people will tell me when I stop being mad at God he will give me what I desire, but it's okay to be mad at him. He's God. He can handle it.

I'm also feeling very alone, very pushed aside. It's like I've been put on my own little island with a crappy cell phone that only picks up signals every now and then, so I just get snippets of the world. I feel like I'm not a good friend because of it, and that people don't view me the same. I feel different and alone.

I just wish this never would have happened. I wish I didn't have to go through this. I wish I didn't have to feel this pain. I just want my baby, MY KYLIE, my beautiful, perfect daughter. I just want her back. That is all. I have never wanted much...

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From June 11, 2010:

I made a discovery tonight. It might not be profound, or special in anyway, but it is a discovery.

I am not healed.
I am nowhere near healing.
I am broken, and yet I cannot be fixed.
I am torn, and cannot be repaired.
I will not be able to become whole again.

This is me admitting that I have been hiding a lot, that I have been trying to force myself to "be" better, when in reality, I am only prolonging the pain and bottling it away. The very thing I fault Chris for, I am doing to myself.

Tonight, at group, we talked about relationships and marriage. I admitted a lot of things and realized a lot of things tonight.

1.) I have not been grieving appropriately. i have been bottling up a lot, and putting it aside to cry at a particular "time" each day. i have tried to stay busy and to do things to prevent myself from being sad. At the same time, I have felt guilty for being happy, or having fun, or smiling. I feel so guilty for everything. How can I be happy when my baby is dead? How dare I have fun when she is not here to celebrate? The guilt overwhelms me (yes this is normal).

2.) People just don't understand. As humans, we are very judgemental and not very quick to just LISTEN. All I have ever wanted was for people to listen to me and to acknowledge me and my feelings. I don't like people thinking I'm crazy for still talking about my child and her death. i don't like people trying to tell me when and how I should be okay. I just want people to listen and accept. Don't tell me you understand if you haven't been there, but don't ignore me, either. Simply stopping by, etc., is enough.

3.) I would rather grovel in self pity all day than do anything at all. Grief is all-consumming, and it is catching up with me. I don't want to cook or clean or do anything really. I just want to sleep, or play on the computer... and yes, it is probably a bit of depression, but it is called GRIEF, and it's normal. Now that I don't have the responsibility of going to work, I'd much rather do nothing. This is finally giving me a chacne to grieve normally again, which I've been putting off for 6 months.

4.) My book tells me I need to say what I need/want. Even though it's 8 months since Kylie passed (almost), we could still use the things (probably more now than we did then). We could use the offer of a cooked dinner here or there, or a card in the mail, or a message on FB, or a gift card to go out, or the offer of a baby sitter to go somewhere, a drop off of a gallon of milk, fresh veggies, or fresh fruits, or just a stop by to say "hey, I'm checking on you." I love it when people tell me they went to see Kylie and I find surprise gifts at her headstone. Sometimes, it would be nice for someone to offer to take us out separately- Chris needs attention and concern just as much as I do. This is not me mooching off of others, this is simply me telling what we need sometimes. It's so exhausting, this pain, and sometimes we just don't feel like doing anything at all, and cooking can become such a chore. Grief is phsyically, emotionally, and mentally draining, and we have been eating horribly because we can't muster up the energy to cook and fix a meal.

I just don't want people to think we're okay because we "seem" okay. In reality, we are still in ungodly amounts of pain, and we suffer daily. Everything reminds us of Kylie and our loss. The empty nursery, the empty space in the living room where her swing should be, the empty wall in the bedroom for her bassinet. Everything in the world can remind me of her, and the pain, as we haven't even made it to one year yet, is overwhelming still at times. This doesn't mean I need a counselor. This just means I'm normal.

Does any of this make sense?
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