If you are not a parent who has lost a child you may not understand at all what I mean when I say I want to die. This does not mean I am suicidal nor does it mean that I am going to take life threatening risk or that I want to leave my husband alone on this earth. What it does mean is that I want to be with my daughter. My daughter is in heaven so that's where I would like to be. It also means that life on this earth is excruciating and being dead would be much easier than dealing with this overwhelming electric shock of pain that daily takes my breath away.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
My Mom Gave me a Message
This evening my mom sat down to talk to me. My mom and I have had a very strained relationship since Ansley died. As you can imagine she took Ansley's death very hard. Her outsides match her insides where my insides most of the time remain hidden. (Due to being a teacher and the nature of my job I had to learn that skill rather quickly. Ansley died in mid July and my school year at a new school started the last week of July. I learned QUICKLY to hide for the time I was at work). It is very painful for me to be around my mom and see her face and body language and know she is wearing what I am feeling. So, she sits down to talk to me like we can have a normal conversation. Immediately my guard is up. We do some small talk for a couple of minutes and then she asks "Do you talk to Ansley?" I said "What do you mean?" She explained that she was wondering if I talked to Ansley in the morning or during prayer time or say things like "Good Morning Pooks". I said "Every morning and every evening." This alone had my guard raised more. She then started discussing a trip she took last weekend to see her Aunt Virginia. She said on the drive over she was praying and that she wanted to feel Ansley around her. (She also explained that she has only dreamed of Ansley 3 times since she left this earth and the last one was Ansley knocking on her front door and when my mom answered it she gave her a big Ansley-bug hug and then she woke up) She then heard a little voice, Ansley's voice that said "Tell Mommy I Love her!" My mom was so excited to give me this message. I responded with frustration. She did not understand why. I defensively and not very nicely snipped well that's nice that YOU heard her voice and ME, her mommy did not hear her voice and you have to give ME a message that MY daughter loves me. She started apologizing and saying she did not mean to upset me. I then told her to stop apologizing. That I hated how we can not even pretend to be normal around each other anymore. She said that she did not know what to do and she kept apologizing. Tears are streaming down my face and I said just accept that I want to f----ing die and be with my baby. That I know it is hard for you to hear this because I am your daughter but nothing has changed for me I want to be with my baby. If you can accept this and be OK with it and stop trying to make things better-that would be better than now but you have to accept that I am miserable and I am going to be miserable. I am no longer happy Jessica with the perfect family. I am now miserable Jessica with the unhappy broken family. She said she would stop trying to make things better and would try to accept me for what I have become. I then explained to her that it is not that I do not want her to hear Ansley but I thought it was unfair that I did not hear Ansley tell me she loved me and to please be OK that it hurt me to hear that she was the one who heard my daughter's beautiful voice. When she was leaving I did manage to tell her that just because I did not think her delivering a message was fair did not mean that I didn't want to hear them. I thought that that was progress for me. To open the door for her to share in the future and not completely end it on the I don't want to hear it note.
Wednesday, January 14, 2009
1 year 6 months
Today is the 1 year and 6 month anniversary of Ansley's death or "Angel Date" as most bereaved parents like to refer to this extremely devastating date. 1 year and 6 months, for some who read this or who know me this will seem like a long time. I tell you it is and it is not. It feels like yesterday I entered into this hell I am forced to now call life (it does not actually resemble living compared to my previous life that included my Ansley). It feels like yesterday that my daughter ran around my house demanding I chase her saying "This way, this way mommy" and it seems like yesterday where that beautiful happy life was ripped away from me when I walked casually into her room at 8:15 am in the morning to wake that sleepy little girl up (she normally got up at 6:00-6:30) and found her dead. Not blue, not unconscious- but dead. That is what I screamed hysterically and that is what I told the 911 operator. As Shane was working vigorously to revive her I told the operator "She is dead! She is dead, send someone to save her!" As I type this my heart is RIPPING open as it does constantly. A wound that never heals. 1 year and 6 months when I focus on that amount of time my brain literally can not compute. It says impossible! She was 2 years 2 months and 25 days old. That is more than 1/2 the time you were blessed to be her mommy here on earth. Impossible that you have been in this much pain for so long. IMPOSSIBLE that you have not held her, changed her diaper, fed, her, made her snack, bathed her, dressed her, took her to the park, took her to Little Gym, played in her Dora kitchen, played dress up, played, played, played, watched Blues Clues Dora and Little Einsteins lived your life, was happy, was whole. I pray nightly that I see her in my dreams, I think she only comes and visits me on days where I feel like I can not go on. The last time she came was on New Years Day. She appeared and I looked at her and said "Come on big girl" hopefully wanting her to choose to come withe me and her daddy. She put her finger up to her chin as she often did to ponder my request. She did not choose to stay-I woke up. I would do anything to have her back no matter how brief the time. I would trade my life in a heartbeat for her to come and be with her daddy and have all of the experiences she should have had on this Earth. It would be easier for both he and I that way. As much as I ache he equally does.
I was watching Oprah today that I Tivoed and there was a mother who had lost her son and his twin brother was on. The brother said that the best way he could explain the loss is looking at a picture on the wall of what your life is supposed to be. What you think it will be. Then, that pictures crashes to the ground shattering into a million pieces and you have no idea how to put it together again and it is too painful to even think about. So, you just look at the picture of your shattered life laying on the ground. He then said after a long time and after something gives you purpose again you try to start carefully putting that picture back together again and as you do you realize it is a different picture. A picture of the different life you will live from then on and the pain of loosing the other picture is always there when you look at the new picture hanging on the wall. But, there is a new picture where the old once was.
I stop where the shattered picture is laying on the ground. I DO NOT WANT A NEW PICTURE! I WANT MY OLD ONE BACK!
Mommy loves you Ansley.
Posted by Jessica at 6:59 PM 5 comments:
Monday, January 12, 2009
Today I took my class to see The Tale of Despereaux. We went to a 1:30 show. I thought all would be safe-more specifically I thought this would be nap time. Yet to my dismay there were 2 little toddler girls in the movie theater with their very sweet voices making comments such as "He fall down, is baby hurt?" This broke my heart. I am safe no where from this heart wrenching pain of not having Ansley here.
On a more positive note the kids loved the movie and they are so excited about comparing the book and the movie. Throughout the entire movie they would say "Snoopie (that's what they call me because Knoop sounds very much like snoop), that didn't happen in the book!". Yay. Comparing and contrasting here we come.
I miss you Ansley-bug. I love you and would love to have my snuggle bear here tonight.
Posted by Jessica at 6:14 PM No comments:
Labels: Even the Movies Are Not Safe
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