Dear Hope,
The first week was hard. Don’t get me wrong, every day is
hard but it was the beginning of “firsts.” The first time pulling up to the
drive way, seeing the dog or cats, lying in bed knowing you were never going to
see these things. Your Mommom (on my side) stayed with us the first week. It
was nice to have her help. Although I didn’t eat much, she made food and
cleaned up the house. I did not have any energy for those types of things.
One night we went to Dave and Busters to get out of the
house. We used all of our points to get you a dinosaur. It’s sitting in your
nursery now. I hope you like dinosaurs as much as I do! You even saw Jurassic
World with me back in June. You may have been a little scared but it’s all
pretend, I promise.
On August 9th, I had a really bad day. That was
the day I was mad at God. Why he would do something like this to us. All of my
life, I tried to be a good person. Never cursing, saying please and thank you,
apologizing for everything even when it wasn’t my fault. I prayed at night and
when I wished upon a star, it was never something for me. I thought if I was
this good person that God would never put me through a tragedy. I would be able
to go through life without heartache. I was convinced we were being punished.
Your Dad went to work a little and Mommom was still there so I didn’t want to
get too emotional. However, if I was by myself, I would have just screamed all
day. Screamed at God for taking you away from us. How can he let people who do
drugs or mistreat their pregnancy have a baby? Why did he have to take you away
from us? We were going to give you the world. I still don’t know why he did it
and I never will. It’s something I’ll have to learn to live with. It depends on
the day whether or not I believe “everything happens for a reason”.
The next day, both your Dad and I decided to go back to
work. Our midwife suggested I take the six weeks and enjoy the rest of the
summer. While it sounded nice, it wasn’t practical. I had a hard time sitting
at home for a week, how could I do six? Things in the house made me sad,
especially your nursery. It was painted but the door was closed. I wasn’t ready
to see your room yet.
I was nervous to go. I didn’t want everyone to bombard me
with “I’m sorry” or give me hugs. However, my first day back was nice. No one
bombarded me and I was OK. I think work was going to be a good thing for your
Dad and me. We could try and get back to a normal (new normal) routine. I think
the first day went by fast because I had emails to catch up on and work that
needed to get done. The next couple of days were a little harder. I found a
little more down time to think about everything. It also didn’t help that I was
on Pinterest finding quotes to represent how I felt. It was hard but it’s getting
a little better each day.
On August 12th, I had dinner with two friends. I
was able to talk about you and what happened without getting upset. I was
surprised but also proud. I needed to talk about you but always stopped because
I would get upset. It was great to talk about you and not get upset. The ride
home was good, until your Dad called. I was about two minutes from home and he
was calling me back. He apologized for not picking up and mentioned Tom was
over. At that moment, I knew what happened. Tom was the funeral director in our
neighborhood. He stopped by the week we had off work and helped us pick your
urn. You were finally home with us.
I cried hysterically those last two minutes. Your Dad met me
as I pulled into the drive way. I kept saying “where is it.” I didn’t mean to
call you an “it” but I meant the urn. I wanted to know where the urn was with
your ashes. Dad didn’t think I was ready but I needed to see you. We cried
together for a little while.
We thought cremating you was the best idea. I still think it
was the right move for us. We had a hard time deciding where to put your ashes.
At first we thought the safe, how were we supposed to look at your urn every
day and not cry? Then we decided to put your ashes in the family room, on the
entertainment center. After we put your ashes there, we went upstairs. Your Dad
asked if we could bring you upstairs with us and I liked that idea. You’ve been
on Daddy’s nightstand ever since. Your urn is beautiful. It’s a moon that
shines all day. Every day I kiss you and tell you to have a good day. It’s my
way of telling you I am thinking about you. I also tell you goodnight every
night. I hope you hear me.
Love,
Mom
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