One month

Stretching.  She always scrunched up her eyebrows and made it serious work.

It's been one month today since I lost my little girl, and ohhhh how I miss her.  I feel her loss every day, this subtle constant nagging that an important part of our family is absent.  It's been both the longest and shortest month of my life.  On one hand I'm sad that it's already been a month, that Time doesn't care and keeps carrying me farther from her.  On the other hand, we did it!  We survived a month.  One down, about 700 to go before I can hold her again.

Speaking of counting. . .while the grieving process is so fresh, there are so many dates and times that remind me of her. Little "anniversaries" of sorts.  She both was born and died on a Monday, so Mondays I always think of her.  Every Sunday feels weird because we're just at home all day, but when she was alive we would spend Sundays at the hospital talking to Jamie.  And often if I have to pump in the middle of the night, I find myself wondering if maybe Makenzie is on shift.  I suspect that as time goes on all those associations will decrease.  The first big accomplishment was when we made it 24 hours without her.  Then a week.  Every week was a milestone until now we have hit a month.  Twice a month, actually - she was born on the 30th and died on the 18th, so basically every couple of weeks is a date that reminds us of her.  I'm guessing that now I'll only count the month marks until we hit one year.  And after that I'll only count the years.

One thing that I've learned is that death is definitely harder on the survivors.  I don't think Aria is tracking Mondays up in heaven :)  We know that she is okay.  She is so much better off going back to heaven so quickly instead of having to go through a long earthly life.  But even though that's what was best for her, we still selfishly wish she was with us!  We still have a lot of hard days, or hard moments in a day.  I'm just so thankful that even at the base of the heartache there is peace.  I know we did the right thing in not insisting that she stay alive at all costs.  The costs were too great.  A few days after she passed, Michael gave me a blessing.  The first thing he said he felt inspired to say was that Aria wanted me to know that she was happy. Well, of course she is!  But it still made me cry with relief to hear that.  Poor dear doesn't need to suffer in an imperfect body anymore.  She's probably up there giddily running around enjoying perfect little arms and legs that work.  She worked so hard just to stay alive those last couple weeks.  No baby should have to work that hard.  So even though I am so devastated by her loss, I'm happy for her sake that she is finally comfortable.

The day she died, I was in such mental anguish all morning.  I couldn't stop crying and I just wanted to throw up.  I kept second guessing myself and asking if we were really doing the right thing by allowing her to go back to heaven.  I was just so afraid.  When she passed, it was sudden.  We thought we would have a couple hours to snuggle with her as she slowly faded, but instead it was only minutes.  She didn't fight it at all.  She was so ready.  As soon as I realized what was happening I scooped her up into my arms and nuzzled her head into my neck.  At that moment I just felt so much peace, more than I've ever felt in my life.  I didn't start to bawl, or hyperventilate, or any of the other reactions I wondered if I'd have.  I was absolutely devastated, for sure, but for the first time since she was born I knew with absolute certainty that we were doing the right thing for her.  Heaven felt so close.  I remember telling the NNP when she came in that I was surprised by how absolutely peaceful I felt.  She then said something very smart - she said to remember and cherish what that felt like, because as life went on there would be times where I would doubt again and that I needed to always remember how I felt at that moment, knowing beyond a doubt that we chose the right thing for Aria, what she wanted.  And I have.  While this past month has been so much harder than I imagined, I have never doubted.  She really was only waiting for us to be willing to make that sacrifice of letting her go.

I don't really feel her with me.  I've had a few people ask if I do.  Or I had another mom who lost a teenage son say she could feel his spirit constantly.  I don't really feel that.  I feel a general encouraging love from heaven, but never her specifically.  I'm hoping that I will eventually, that she'll "check in" from time to time.  But in the meantime I'm actually okay with it.  I think she's very busy in heaven doing good for others.  If I just felt her presence constantly I would kind of be like, "well if you're just going to be with me all the time anyway then you shouldn't have died, you should be here in a body that I can cuddle."

I got a card last week from some friends who apologized for taking so long to express their sympathy, and said that it must have been a very hard trial.  Um. . .it IS a hard trial, not WAS!  Yes, it's been a month, but at the same time. . .it's only been a month!  I think we're still pretty fresh in the grieving process.  And I don't think the death of your child is something you ever "get over."  It's kind of a lifetime heaviness on the heart, and we just learn to cope and do the best we can until we can see her in heaven again.

Keep waiting for us, Aria.  We sure love you.