Our Sweet Girl

Our Sweet Girl
Our Sweet Girl

Sunday, April 24, 2011

The Night We Came Home Hours After Edy Died

Coming home the night Edy died.

So, we walk in the big- empty- silent house…. Not cool to say “Dead” silent anymore. Its amazing how much I actually used that phrase before Edy died.  Neither of us knew what to say to each other.--------- His son and my oldest daughter were at their other parents houses… thank God. Neither one of us wanted to tell the kids…EVER. We both agreed it would be better if they were NOT present when Edy died. Neither one of us wanted them to hold their cold and lifeless 1 lb 7 oz (she lost 3 oz) baby sister. One thing I have learned about the big brother/ big sister situation and  the death of Edy… it doesn’t matter what we agreed to do or didn’t agree to do…. Any decision we made, will be one that I will always question as to what was right or wrong. We didn’t tell the kids the day Edy died, we didn’t tell them the morning after… we let them go to school and have a normal day since they were not with us at the time. What could they have done? We didn’t want to ruin any other persons day, much less our living children. We wanted them to have a GOOD day, because we knew deep down inside- none of our lives would ever be the same again. With all honesty (please don’t judge me unless you have been in this situation)  I really didn’t feel like consoling the kids yet either, the shock still hadn’t worn off and I was a wreck.

I’m off track already, professional writing will never ever be in my future, drats.

We walk in the house. I sit on the couch like a zombie and curl up into the fetal position. He unloads our belongings from the hospital… a lock of the softest hair I have ever touched in my life, a footprint and a handprint inside a seashell, a diaper so tiny I had no clue they actually manufactured them that small, a thin book  about “what to do when your baby dies”. Its amazing, pregnancy and baby books are several hundred pages… the book on what to do when your baby is dying/dies… is about 52 pages long.  Regardless, it was a blessing to have that book- it was my bible for the first few days.

He asks “you thirsty or hungry?” neither of us were. He then asked “want me to run a hot bath for you?”… “okay”- because I didn’t know what else to do. I sat in the bath and started reading my baby died booklet. The feelings of anger, fear, resentment, blame, helplessness, hopelessness, uncertainty, rage were all pounding through each beat of my heart. I could feel and hear my heart beating loudly in my ears and I HATED each BEAT MY HEART BEAT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! This was all an awful, cruel, bullshit nightmare. At that moment, I resented the fact that my heart was beating and I was alive, yet our Edy Charlotte was in a morgue. I cried and cried until I couldn’t  see to read anymore. He was making himself  busy with dishes, unpacking, etc. I sat back on the couch curled up in a ball and just stared off into space. Then I made him stop the busy work and sit with me. “Our baby died today, our baby died today, Edy has been dead for 5 hours, she‘s cold and she is by herself….” I said.

My sweet husband is not much of a talker. He’s complete opposite of me. Which is probably why he liked me when he met me, I did all of the talking. So, he did what he knew how to do, he just held me as we both cried. We cried awful, ugly cries that night while hugging each other so tight. “You know that you and I will never be the same, ever again, what are we going to do?”, I asked him. He just simply replied “You and I will HAVE to be there for EACH OTHER from this day forward with Edy’s death and we will have to focus on our living kids and making sure they are loved with all of the love they still deserve from us”.  A man of few words, he is a man of such wise words.  Sometimes when he talks, he reminds me of a walking/talking life sized fortune cookie--- so calm when he speaks, so eloquent, but he has YET to pick lucky numbers to win the lottery like on the back of the fortunes.

So, we are sitting in an empty and quiet house. Crying and hugging each other. I wanted nothing to drink, for Edy would never drink anything again. I wanted nothing to eat, for the same reason. I felt guilty. I still feel guilty every second of every day. I wanted to turn the TV on so bad that night for nothing more than a distraction and an escape from the world, an escape from reality. How childish is that? TV? So, I went to brush my teeth- with every single bristle of my toothbrush whispering to me “Edy is gone, Edy is gone, Edy is gone”. I slowly walked to our bedroom to lay in our bed and stare at the wall. Little did I know, that certain part on our bedroom wall would be what I stared at for weeks after Edy died.  My mind was racing… yet so blank that night. I stared at the spot where Edy was supposed to be sleeping in our bed.  When we found out I was pregnant with her, we were discussing where she would sleep. I said I wanted a co sleeper on my side of the bed so she would be at arms length for me to feed her and I wanted her close to me at all times. Husband said “No. I don’t want her on your side, I want her between both of us, I want to take care of her and be able to love her at night too”.  We discovered a cool thing the size of a clothing drawer that was meant for babies to be in their parents bed, but safe for them because it was their own little space. Before I went in the hospital, we discussed setting up her little box between us on the mattress so we could get used to sleeping with less space in the bed. We joked about it being our “baby in a box” sleeping between us. You know what? Its not funny anymore to me. DAMN IT, we researched everything for her…. For her to be the healthiest and safest baby. We really had everything perfectly in place for her arrival- I studied SIDS, picked out Halo sleep sacs for her to sleep in , Husband/Chef was going to make all of her baby food and we both said she probably wouldn’t even sleep in her room upstairs until she started school- we both hated the idea of her being upstairs and away from us- Husband even said “her room will probably just be her playroom”.

I see people on Facebook with pictures of their babies and a full ashtray in the background next to the baby bottles. And MY baby died? I see a lady at the bus stop with 7 kids and they all have green snotty noses and no coats on when its 40 degrees… and she has her fingernails and hair done, while talking on her I-Phone. Yet MY baby died? AGAIN, IM OFF TRACK.

So, I stared at that spot on my wall while I was in bed, and held her teeny tiny diaper… and cried myself to sleep hoping I would wake up the next day and tell Husband…. “I had such an awful nightmare” !
But, waking up the next day…. That is another story be posted soon.