Today Daddy took me to get my mammogram. I have never had a mammogram before and let me tell you it is a very violating experience, and I hated every second of it. While the nurse was thoroughly checking me for lumps she was trying to make small talk with me. Unfortunately, speaking with anyone that is not close to me has proven difficult for several reasons. Sometimes I am doing everything I can not to cry, or I am deep in thought about you, but mainly it is because nothing really seems to matter much anymore. It may be awkward silence for the other party but I would much rather just sit and not talk. I struggle with the casual passerby asking me, "How are you?" Do I lie and just say, "Good," because this is what they are expecting to hear and it's easier. Or do I answer honestly and then have to continue to answer their questions that follow. Anyway, back to the nurse, she asks me what my plans are for the rest of the day. Anyone who knows me well knows that I don't really do small talk anyway. I think it is a waste of my time. If I am going to talk to you it is going to meaningful and not wasted effort just to make the time less awkward. I am also really bad at faking any emotion. You can usually tell what I am thinking or feeling by looking at me. So I finally answer the nurse by saying, "My daughter passed away two weeks ago so I am not really doing anything." She was very gracious and told me how sorry she was and that I would be in her prayers. Mind you this is all while I am naked from the waste up and she is looking for lumps.
So I had a mammogram and an ultrasound and the results came back that everything was normal. I should be extremely relieved. Don't get me wrong I am very glad and thankful that I do not have cancer. But once you have already heard the worst news you could ever hear in your lifetime everything else doesn't seem to compare. This whole process took about two hours. Your daddy had to wait in a separate waiting room. Little did I know he was literally freaking out the whole time. I walked out and I told him I had to go to the bathroom.
As soon as I get out he says, "So?!?!" I said, "It's nothing."
"What? They didn't tell you anything?"
"No. They SAID it's nothing."
Your Daddy gave me one of the tightest hugs, if not the tightest hug he has ever given me. I had to tell him he was hurting my neck. He held me for 5 minutes straight and he was breathing heavy. As he let me go I could see that he was tearing up. He told me how the whole time he was waiting he was freaking out. He said he was pacing back and forth and rocking in his chair.
He told me "I went to the bathroom 4 times. I think the lady at the desk thought I had a problem."
He told me "I went to the bathroom 4 times. I think the lady at the desk thought I had a problem."
He explained to me that he really can't loose me and the thought was making him crazy. I then explained to him that none of this even matters to me any more and that Haddie should be here. We walked to the elevator and there was a mom with a baby on her lap. The baby immediately turned and looked right at me and flashed a huge, toothy grin just like you would have done. Right there in the Betty Ford Breastcare Center lobby I lost it.
I am not sure if losing a child changes who you are or if it just changes your outlook on life. I think it's too early to really tell. But I know for sure that everything is different with out you here, Haddie. I miss the craziness of two kids. I miss carrying you in your ridiculously heavy carseat. I miss fighting you to change your poo poo's. I miss juggling you, your sister, and the 8 million bags you have to pack for two kids. I miss being covered in your snot, baby food, and drool. Most of all I miss your laugh, and the way you would climb up me to hug me. Haddie there is so much I miss and I will forever feel you missing from our lives. The perfect day doesn't exist anymore. There will be days that are almost perfect, but perfect doesn't exist without you here.
We had a perfect day the Sunday before you passed away. We were celebrating your Daddy's 30th birthday. The house was full laughs, hugs, jokes, and of people who loved you. At the beginning of the day you clung to me which I loved. People would try to take you out of my arms but you would turn away and hold onto me with all your might. Eventually you warmed up and let people hold you. Everyone held you that day, you were everyone's baby. Everyone misses you Haddie not just Mama, Daddy, and Elo. Someone said to me yesterday, "Haddie had a big life for being 9 months old." That made me smile. That is my hope for all of my children to give them the biggest, fullest life possible. I hope you felt that Haddie.
I promise to live the biggest, fullest life ever for you Haddie.
Love,
Mama
This was a picture from that perfect day...
I am not sure if losing a child changes who you are or if it just changes your outlook on life. I think it's too early to really tell. But I know for sure that everything is different with out you here, Haddie. I miss the craziness of two kids. I miss carrying you in your ridiculously heavy carseat. I miss fighting you to change your poo poo's. I miss juggling you, your sister, and the 8 million bags you have to pack for two kids. I miss being covered in your snot, baby food, and drool. Most of all I miss your laugh, and the way you would climb up me to hug me. Haddie there is so much I miss and I will forever feel you missing from our lives. The perfect day doesn't exist anymore. There will be days that are almost perfect, but perfect doesn't exist without you here.
We had a perfect day the Sunday before you passed away. We were celebrating your Daddy's 30th birthday. The house was full laughs, hugs, jokes, and of people who loved you. At the beginning of the day you clung to me which I loved. People would try to take you out of my arms but you would turn away and hold onto me with all your might. Eventually you warmed up and let people hold you. Everyone held you that day, you were everyone's baby. Everyone misses you Haddie not just Mama, Daddy, and Elo. Someone said to me yesterday, "Haddie had a big life for being 9 months old." That made me smile. That is my hope for all of my children to give them the biggest, fullest life possible. I hope you felt that Haddie.
I promise to live the biggest, fullest life ever for you Haddie.
Love,
Mama
This was a picture from that perfect day...
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