Rumbling

Thank you ladies.

Thank you for the tremendous validation I received from so many of you about how I feel so much more emotionally fragile lately. I am so glad to know I am not alone in this post birth.  I appreciate your feedback, you made me feel so normal!

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I cannot believe the date.  January 23rd 2013.  Here it comes.  Ava’s Day.  February 8th 2013 would be her second birthday.  I can feel the ground beginning to shudder, the birds are taking flight, it is coming.

A rumbling.

Last year we threw a giant birthday party for her at a local restaurant and bowling alley, all our friends and family were there.  We laughed, danced, ate and celebrated Ava and our survival   We raised money for her hospital and celebrated her.  Then we ran.  The next day we went to Quebec City;  really we escaped our life to Quebec City.  We did not know what to do with that date, we just knew we had to be far away from everyone and everything when it came.  It was a quiet, sad and nerve-wrecking trip.  We clung to each other to survive.  This year we are not running. Matt is not taking time from work and it is a weekday.  This year I have no more clue as to how to handle it than I did last year.

Sometimes I wonder about these dates and Lillian.  There is no way I will be happy, sing song, kissy, “normal” Mama to her on that date.  No matter how much I fake it.  I know it will progress and change as grief does.  But I do not want her to think one day “Oh no, February 8th is coming, Mama and Dad are going to be sad.”  What an awful thing to think!  Yet I need to walk through this grief authentically. I feel conflicted.

I have looked to you other BLM’s for inspiration as to how mark her birthday.  I know in the future when Lily is old enough to participate we will bake Ava a cake.   We will buy a toy for a baby in need or go watch Daddy donate blood (I will never be able to)  as a way of continuing Ava’s legacy of giving back to the community.  I want to take Lillian’s comfort as a lead and have it be a family day.   This year, I do not know.  I just do not know.

There are so many dates in our journey that are important that it I feel like I walk through 11 days of sorrow.  The 7th, being admitted to hospital, the 8th her death and my near death, the 9th -11th coma, 12th being woken up, 13th saying hello and goodbye, 17th going home and the 18th my birthday and her cremation.  Each one of those days is a trauma and story of its own.  Each day is significant enough to be marked but who can have the capacity to relive it all? It is all too much.

I want to celebrate our girl. I want to celebrate that she was here with us for 34+6 glorious weeks.  I want to  take a quiet moment and think about running my hand over her cold skin and those perfect lips of hers. I want to remember all those little moments with heartfelt clarity. I want to celebrate her role in our family.   I want to celebrate our continued survival and our ability to mourn together as a family.  I just haven’t figured out how I will do that just yet.