You would have been celebrating your third birthday. I miss you so much and love you more....your mama
Sep 28, 2010
Sep 16, 2010
I wasn't really with Zoe's father when she was born (or cut quickly out of me, whatever) and I was afraid to see him for hours after it happened and I was lost and sad and had just had a baby and had no idea what form my life would take from that day forward. I never had a partner to grieve with (not saying her father didn't grieve) together. I went home to Ivy and tried to pick my old life off of the floor and shine it up and do my best for Ivy. It was hard. She was the kid at school whose baby sister died. I was the woman whose body gave out on her and her child and it killed her.
Some of the events of Zoe's life are confusing or out of order in my mind. Anyway, I missed my baby terribly while I was in bed recovering from all of the blood-loss and she was being cared for in the N.I.C.U. and either I picked out a soft lamb, or my mom brought it up to me from the gift shop, either was, it was my surrogate Zoe, and hugging it tight and sending thoughts of 'live baby girl, please live' was the only way I could drift off.
I have since strapped her hospital bracelet around the lambs wrist and set it in Aidyn's crib. He'll wrap his arms around it when he's on his side, and drift off to sleep.
Posted by Lindsay at 5:29 AM
Sep 2, 2010
My grandmother died a little over a month ago. I went to say goodbye to her. She looked like she had become one with the mattress she was laying on. I could see her heart beat in every vein in her body. She moved, tried to come toward my voice when I walked in the room. I told her everything I've ever wanted to say to her. I cried on her. I told her to hold my girl for me, to tell her how much her mommy loves her and misses her. I told her she was the greatest woman I ever knew. That was the last time she moved at all.
I only focused on getting through the visitation and funeral. They didn't cover up Zoe's grave to bury her like I was so scared of.
My uncle stopped me outside of the church, after I had gone to visit Zoe in the cemetery and see my grandmother actually in the ground, and told me that she had waited for me. He told me she never moved again, that she was waiting for my goodbye. I don't know about all that but he and my grandfather believe it.
In the midst of all these anxiety invoking services over the course of two days, I never peeked at her obituary. When I finally decided to, I noticed that it reads, "Faye was preceded in death by, her first husband, parents, a brother, a grandson and great grand-daughter". I never saw that.
This part of my family, that ignores everything, or at best will sweep an uncomfortable subject under the rug, remembered her. It took days to notice, but they remembered her. They included her. This same group, who left Zoe's name off of a huge family tree decoration at a family reunion (I took a piece of construction paper and a sharpie and added it in anyway), remembered to include my girl. They acknowledged that she once was. To me, she still is.
It's September. Almost three years since she was born.
(Thinking of Ciaran too, Bir)
Posted by Lindsay at 5:23 AM