speaking truths

There's an episode of The Office where Jim and Pam start speaking their "truths" to each other.  I love The Office.  And maybe I need to speak some of my truths.

To speak my truth, this situation is horrible and exhausting.  Trying constantly to find ways to keep going and be okay when my daughter is gone.  Trying constantly to convince myself there is a reason to live, and not just exist but really live without her.  It is forever an uphill battle.  I want to give in, and stay in bed all day and never leave and just waste away.  That is what I want to do, drown.  Because fighting it is tiresome, and frustrating, and awful.  But I also want her to live on through those that love her.  So giving in is not an option.

To speak my truth, losing friendships and relationships because people don't know how to handle the situation is pretty shitty.  I don't know how it happens.  I don't know how some of the people you are closest to and you just knew would be there everyday just vanish from your life.  I don't know why.  Maybe it's because they are so close it hurts them too much.  Or maybe they just don't know what to say.  Here's what to say, "I'm sorry you have to go through this.  I'm so sorry she's gone.  But I'll be here whenever you need me to be."  That's it.  Don't say anything else.  And then be there.  Just be there.  Call.  A lot.  Visit.  Do whatever just be there.  

What's strange is people I barely know being so supportive.  And I read so much in the beginning about that happening.  That part is amazing.  How strangers can stand up and be loving of others.  Or people I haven't spoken to in years.  That is an incredible thing.  There has been a lot of support for my daughter.  But there has been some drifting apart too, at the worst time for that to happen.  And I do say some of the people you are closest to, because not everyone is like that and many people in my life have been there and been wonderful.

To speak my truth, I won't paint my nails.  I won't wear earrings.  I won't dance.  I list those things because I know it's irrational.  I know she doesn't care if I do those things, and doing them or any of the things I considered normal or happy before won't mean I love her less or miss her less or that I don't grieve for her.  I know that.  But I just won't do them.  Not right now.  It doesn't feel right without her.

To speak my truth, I miss my daughter with every fiber of my being, always.  And I would not choose any other baby to be Mommy of.  I am so unbelievably proud of her and I wouldn't trade her for anything.  I absolutely would bring her back here if I could.  I would change her brief time on this earth and make it longer.  I would take care of her and watch her grow up and hear her laugh.  I don't know why this was her journey, to be here for such a short time and then move on.  I don't know why.  But I have a connection and a bond with her that goes well beyond life and death.  And physically or not, this is our journey together.  I wish it had not been this way, but I don't love her any less because she is not here.

I also carried that little body and that perfect soul for almost 40 weeks.  I know that child, whether I knew her out of my womb or not.  I know she's just like John.  I know that.  If you put his newborn picture beside hers she looks just like him...just. like. him.  But not just that she acted like him too.  If I was covered up with a blanket, which I frequently was because I'm always cold, she would freak out.  She would kick and move and squirm and punch until I took the blanket off.  Then she would rest.  She hated being hot and she got fussy and she starting swinging when she was upset...just. like. him.

I desperately wish I could see her mature and watch her learn and see how feisty and sassy she would undoubtedly have become.  But to speak my truth I know her better than one might think.  And I love her more than words can describe.