And here we are. Unbelievably. 1 year 1 day since my little girl died. And it still sucks.
Yesterday was exhausting. But ok. The kids watched Cars: the movie in it's entirety before noon.
Although somewhere in there I also read them stories and coloured trees with them and made hot cocoa.
I spoiled them. Because I wanted to spoil Eva.
They asked for stories. I read em stories. They asked for hot cocoa. We got out the hot cocoa in the summer. They wanted to eat lunch outside. We ate lunch outside. Partly it was easier to just do whatever they wanted than to say 'no'. Partly I wanted to read to Eva, make hot cocoa for Eva and feed her lunch outside so they got spoiled because I couldn't spoil their sister.
In the evening family came over and we planted 2 trees for Eva on our property. 1 flowering plum that is gorgeous pink in the spring and 1 flaming maple which is gorgeous red in the fall, just in time for Eva's birthday.
We had a hot dog roast afterwards. And marshmallows. And Owen wanted another one when he's only allowed one. I told him he could have Eva's. Another sweet concession.
All in all, considering what a super crappy day it was, it wasn't too bad. Strangely enough.
And now we enter the two months where there are no memories of Eva, other than me pregnant, and last year's wailing grief. But I remember being pregnant with her. And I remember the anticipation we had to meet our first and only daughter.
Who knew that a scant 10 months later she would be lying cold in my arms in ER. Who knew my baby would die in a room full of 10-15 medical personnel and that they would be unable to save her. Who knew I'd be screaming her name and begging God for my daughter. Who knew I'd hold her in my arms and yell out to the nurse 'she's breathing' only to be informed that those are dying gasps.
And so here we go again. Entering year two without my sweet girl. And it still sucks and hurts and sometimes I'd like to punch someone. But who? Who?
One year down. How many more to go?
I am so sorry. I wish you did not have to walk this path of pain. I pray that you would truly feel our Heavenly Father's love. That you would know and be filled with His peace. That you would be able to grieve with Hope. One day, it will be made right. One day, you will hold your precious daughter again... and this life will seem nothing but a distant dream.
ReplyDeleteYup, can't wait for the distant dream. And we do grieve with Hope. In fact that is the song we used on our slideshow presentation of Eva. Grieve with hope by Steven Curtis Chapman. But grieving with hope, is still grieving, as I know you well know.
DeleteI can only imagine how yesterday and today and all the days hurt. All I can think of is Job...though He slay me, yet will I hope in Him. Faith is hard and at the same time the only way to truly live our lives in this world. ♥, {hugs} & prayers
ReplyDeleteI was thinking of you yesterday. Thanks for sharing how you marked the day. Everything you did seemed very fitting, and as nice as something like that could be. I feel like I don't have anything wise to say, so I'll just repeat how sorry I am that you lost your sweet baby girl.
ReplyDeleteYes, all the things we did were nice in and of themselves but how much more I would have rather not marked this day at all. Or remembered it as Eva going into cardiac arrest but getting to the hospital in time. Getting her on ECMO. Open heart surgery. PICU. Recovery. Remembering this as merely a really hard time last year rather than the worst day of my life.
DeleteI find your blog so heartbreaking to read...I cant even imagine what it was like but when you describe some of the things you have experienced...especially your experience in the ER it makes my heart ache for you so badly. You certainly have been put through a ringer...and it stregthens my faith to see someone still clinging to God after such an incredibly difficult time. I continue to pray for you while you continue to grieve the loss of such a precious jewel!
ReplyDeleteI've been thinking about you and your Eva a lot the past couple of days--even more than usual because you are both often in my thoughts.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry that Eva isn't here in your arms right now. I'd like to punch someone, too.
But I'm glad that you survived the one year anniversary of Eva's passing and got to spend some special time with your boys.
I'm glad, too, that you find comfort and inspiration in your faith, though I understand that every day without your sweet baby remains a struggle.
Struggling with you, taking it day by day, and sending love. xo
Who knew I'd be screaming her name and begging God for my daughter. Who knew I'd hold her in my arms and yell out to the nurse 'she's breathing' only to be informed that those are dying gasps.
ReplyDelete*****
One year down. How many more to go?
Oh, Eva. Yes - how many more?
Tears for you and your sweet girl,
Cathy in Missouri
1 year...UGh! I was there just two months ago. That one year mark is just so hard soooo soso hard. Pregnant or not, Eva is gone and so I know people may think being pregnant eases your pain...but I think the pain is about Eva and your missing of HER. I want you to know I am and have been thinking of you although this comment is a little late after your post. Giant warm hugs to you. I know how sad you are right now.
ReplyDeletetoo many. too many years to go.
ReplyDeleteholding sweet eva in the light, and you, and your family. sending you buckets full of love.
Oh Em. One year. It seems so impossible, that time can move so fast. That time DOES move so fast.
ReplyDeleteI'm around, dipping my toes back in these bloggy waters. I came across this and had to leave my love and warmth and hope and faith.. For you, your boys and especially your beautiful Eva. xoxo