Happy Thanksgiving from Brielle, David, and I! It’s Brielle’s two week birthday and we’ve had a great family day with my parents, mother-in-law, and nephew.
We have a lot to be sad about this year, but we also have quite a bit to be thankful for too.
We were blessed with wonderful medical staff at Dekalb Medical and SeeBaby.
My parents have been wonderful. They’ve been here for three weeks, slaving away, taking care of every little thing.
We’ve been blessed with wonderful new friends and love for our little girl from friends, family, and strangers.
And we’ve been blessed with a beautiful, wonderful, perfect baby girl.
We’re so grateful for everyone who has prayed for us and followed us through this year. Your love and encouragement has meant more than you’ll ever know.
We brought Brielle home yesterday (we put her ashes in a soft white teddy bear, I’ll post about that later). And I spent quite a bit of the day wondering what happens now. I don’t mean for my life or David’s lives. But what happens in Brielle’s world? What does she know? Of course, I fully believe she is in heaven. I know that much. But then that’s it. And no one has the answers of what happens next, what life is like after death.
So I wonder. Time could be different there, are years more like moments for her now? When David and I come to be with her will it be as if only a few moments passed? Will she really not know a world without us at all? This is a comforting thought, she’ll never have to miss us and we can pick up where we left off. But then it’s not comforting at the same time. I don’t want her life to stand still, I want her to be free to do whatever she wants to do. I want her to be more, she was such a lively wonderful baby girl, she should have the opportunity to do more.
So is she having a whole lifetime of fun and adventure? Is she seeing and exploring things? Meeting new people, playing with her deceased family? I know they would take good care of her. Is time faster, more fluid? I have no idea. But if time isn’t slower, then what? What will it be like for her while we are away?
When I talk to her can she hear me? I know a lot of people believe this, but really, none of us know. So if she can hear me, great, I’ll talk to her all the time! But if she can’t I’m just a crazy woman talking to the air.
Can she see us? If we take her on adventures still, will she see them? Will she know we did those things for her? Will she know how much we miss her? I know she knows we miss her, but can she see how much? Do I want her to see that? Do I want her to see me grieve for her? Not really. She hated it when I cried.
Is some part of her still connected to her body? If I tote around her ashes in her teddy bear (which I’ve dressed in one of her onesies), talk to her, sing to her, read books to her, will she know? Will it make a difference if it’s with her ashes or not?
How does this part of death work? What do I need to do to take care of her? Nobody knows.
All of these questions, I feel, are critical to how I learn to live again. I need to know how to mother her still, I need to come to terms with a pattern, a way to grieve her. To show her I love her and respect her life and legacy. And I’m not sure how to do that.
Do I swaddle her cremation urn bear thing, dress it in some of her clothes, read her books to it? Do I leave the bear in her closet or her bassinet? Do I take the bear with me on vacation? What do I do with this little piece of her, her “suit”, as David calls her ashes. I don’t know. I don’t know what to do. When does grief become certifiable? Nothing feels right, it all feels terribly wrong. It is terribly wrong. And this is where I am, in this horrible world, trying to figure out how to love Brielle who is a world away.
The week before Brielle was born was not planned. As many of you know, we had originally thought Brielle would be born on Monday, November 9. My family had come in that weekend and my Grandma came not long after that. It took a while to get in touch with Dr. B, and by the time we did, he had scheduled it for Thursday afternoon. At first we were all a little frustrated with this, but we all soon came to realize what a gift this was. We had the opportunity to spend a four days together as a family, with Brielle, doing fun things together.
We took her to church, watched movies, had tasty meals. It was a lot of fun and Brielle had a lot of fun. It took her a bit to get comfortable with everyone again and she preferred the moments when it was just her with David and I, but after she became accustomed to their voices she began to wiggle happily again.
My family decided Monday night that they were going to visit the World of Coke museum. I really had no desire to do this. It seems incredibly strange to me to go to a museum about food, especially food that is in no way healthy for you. Until Tuesday morning, David and I had decided not to go, and then I thought, “No, this could be a fun outing with everyone and Brielle might like it.” Turns out, it was fun, and Brielle had fun too!
Zach (my brother-in-law) shares a birthday with Brielle, so we made sure to do things special for him while he was here, it was his 21st birthday. We went to this place called Max’s for lunch and it had a Yoda drawing inside, so we posed with it, and Brielle and I took one with Uncle Zach too!
We then did our tour, Mom and Dad made sure to get me a wheelchair and I think Dad had a little more fun with that than he should have. It can be a very scary thing when Dad gets behind a wheelchair, but we survived wink emoticon In all seriousness, David and Dad took turns wheeling me because I was kind of heavy.
The tour was fun. Brielle, David, and I took pictures with the Coke polar bear. And that was a lot of fun, the guys doing the photography asked how many babies I was carrying. I was asked that question quite a few times. I think Brielle had fun with the bear, we sure did.
I love this picture.
We also did this 4D theater thing. That was seriously traumatic for everyone else. I was advised to sit in the nonmoving seats, so I did. I was so thankful. I think Brielle would have died if I had been sitting in those chairs. Dad sat in the row in front of me because he wanted the whole experience, a few minutes in he had moved to sit next to me. Those things were rough, but Brielle had fun with the other parts. There would be puffs of air that would come out and she would jump and wiggle each time they shot out.
We tried all of the Coke flavors. That was disgusting. Brielle and I did not like it. She didn’t even like the pineapple drink. Or the African drink that tasted like cough syrup, big surprise there.
We went through the gift shop and I bought Brielle a World of Coke onesie. Dad picked her out a Christmas ornament too. It made me so happy to get things for Brielle. I told Dad that as well. I loved planning a future with her, it was a great thing to hope.
We finished off the day with Finding Nemo, Brielle did so many big kicks. My stomach was jumping around during most of the movie. She loved the movie and I think that’s hilarious. She loves movies that are in water. The Little Mermaid, Atlantis, Finding Nemo, etc. I mean she was a mermaid for Halloween and she did have an ocean to swim in, there was enough water in my tummy for her to be an olympic swimmer.
Brielle had a good day. I’m glad we had these extra few days to give her more good days. I wish she could have more.
Thursday, November 19, 2015 was one week since Brielle was born. It’s hard to believe that she would be a week old already. In some ways it feels like I just had her and in other ways it feels like it’s been years and years since I was holding her in my arms. Today was one of those days where I had imagined doing things with her and I spent a lot of time today wondering what she would look like now. How would I feel physically today if she were here? How much more exhausted would I be and would I even care or notice? How many poopie diapers would she have had by now? It’s the little things that drive everyone else crazy that I spent the day wondering about.
I told David that I feel a bit out of place. I’m a Mommy, but I don’t have a baby to hold. Our lives have reverted back to just me and David again. We won’t need a babysitter, we won’t be drowning in baby things, we can go on vacation. I can buy myself expensive things and not feel guilty. I’d rather have poopie diapers. I am empty. My arms are empty, my womb is empty, and my heart is empty. I miss my little girl, my joy.
Today wasn’t all sad though, and I am very, very grateful for that. Kelle S. and Susan V. flew in for the day from Texas to check on me. They won’t be able to make it to the funeral, but still wanted to see us. I can’t express how much I appreciated their visit. Kelle, of course, had us all laughing with her ridiculous stories. And they brought news of home and what was going on there. I had fun listening to their wonderfully normal lives and it distracted me from my own pain. And somehow Kelle was able to bring homemade cookies and an entire Simply Bundt pumpkin spice cake, through security and onto the plane! She’s so funny. Susan shared things going on with her family too and it made me happy to hear about Craig’s recent trip to Mexico and what was going on with Brian and Matt.
It may seem odd to many of you, but our church friends from Texas are like family to us and helped raise Tessa (my sister) and I. Just hearing things going on in their lives and seeing them warmed my heart. It was like I had a slice of home and comfort for a short while. And I didn’t feel so alone and stranded in Georgia. It was very nice.
I also want to thank Veracode, the company my Father works for, for the beautiful pink roses. They’ve opened up beautifully and match Brielle’s chalkboard perfectly. The day they arrived was a very hard day for me and they were a wonderful surprise that brightened my day.
I did little things for Brielle today. I meant to eat skittles, but forgot, and then was mad at myself for a few minutes because I forgot. I drank a coke for her, her favorite soda, and updated her chalkboard, which was extremely painful to do. Wiping away 40th and six days from the board broke my heart, I don’t want life to move on, but it does, whether I like it or not. My Dad took pictures of David and I in front of the sign, but I couldn’t manage a smile. I tried my best and it turned out more like a snarl. Well then that had me laughing, who snarls in a picture? So then he caught some awkward smiles, which I can share if y’all would like. In each picture I held my belly. I still hold her even though she’s not there anymore.
Carrying Brielle wasn’t the hard part, living without her is. This part that I’ll be living for the rest of my life, is the part that hurts the most. I miss her.
