About Me

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My second child and our first daughter, Camille, died and was born on June, 30 2011 when I was full term at 38 weeks pregnant. I gave birth to my rainbow baby, a second daughter, on August 31, 2012. This is me trying to figure out how to be a mother to my living son and daughter and function in society after our tragic loss.

Friday, September 30, 2011

3 months

Today it has been 3 months since Camille died. I seem to be having a really hard time lately. One minute I feel like I am coping well, I will survive, I can do this because I have no choice but I feel positive and hopeful and can try and find joy in life. The last couple days are just moody and sad and gray. I am sick of the sunshine. It doesn't match the season or my sorrow. Too much sunshine makes me sad. I miss my daughter. I feel full of tears, my hope isn't so bright, I miss her so much, my baby. I just wish it was different, I wish she was alive. I feel powerless and exhausted from being sad for 3 months. It feels heavy, all this missing. I need a vacation from grief, I want my baby, I really really want my baby. I am just so so so sad.

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Birthday Parties and Other Crap Events

My friend's son turned 3. I went to her house early this morning and helped get everything ready for the party. Transported everything to the park and set up. Some moms I have never met were there. The "do you JUST have one child?" question came up. Yes, just the one. "Oh because I thought you had two?" really lady can you JUST drop it because I don't have just the one, I have two, but I don't know you, and I don't feel like crying at 10am in the morning right before about 40 people show up to this fantastic shit parade that I am trying to be joyous about participating in. Did I happen to mention that I really don't cuss very often in real life, but in blog land, well, it is just how I feel. A bunch of moms club moms and kids show up and I get some people who will talk with me. It is so hard to interact, I feel really distracted, edgy, skittish. Other women avoid me, I'm the lady whose baby died you know, it might be catching. Others just don't know~the new moms that have joined since Camille died. I also feel shitty because I haven't written thank you cards for any food or monetary support we got. I feel guilty about that....Because I am GOOD AT GUILT.

One of the moms had her baby last weekend, she, who was the last of our little pregnancy group to give birth, shows up with her new daughter. Yay for alive babies~right? NOPE. I gave her a hug and asked how she was feeling and said how her daughter looked like her husband. I'll give you one WILD guess if she asked about me. I didn't talk to her the rest of the morning. I was exhausted after the party. Kai said he had a great time...Sometimes I want to look at him and say "you know I'm taking one for the team little" but I don't, I just say "I'm so glad you had a good day buddy"

It doesn't help that I am super hormonal and grief stricken simultaneously...Does midol make a pill for that: bloating, headache, heartache, cramps, general malaise, dead baby, fixer upper pill? I had my first period on the 9th of this month. I bought OPK sticks, but I don't really need them because I can feel when I am ovulating. I had sex, I was hopeful. That was 9 days ago, today I started bleeding. I didn't think you could get your period 9 days after you ovulated. So I am cranky, sad, tired, pissed off. I started crying tonight, openly in front of my husband and he says "sometimes it seems like you want people to say something and then you don't want them to either" So WHAT if I am crazy, SOMETIMES I just need him to say "yeah, fuck all those alive babies" and "All those ladies are bitches" but he won't, that's not him. But I don't feel supported. I told him I need him to get angry with me or sad and he said being angry is a waste of energy and he won't do it. FINE but let me be angry, don't judge me for being PISSED that my DAUGHTER DIED! It's bad enough that I feel alone in this without feeling even more alone because the one person (husband who also has a dead daughter) doesn't seem to get it either. Even if it isn't logical...my feelings are VALID.
A friend of mine had her son at 26 weeks pregnant. He just came off the ventilator in the NICU. I sure do hope that he keeps being alive for her, because even though he has a long struggle ahead of him, he is alive. Something I never got to see in my daughter. It baffles me that my daughter could randomly die at full term and a baby can be alive at 26 weeks. This world puzzles me.

Saturday, September 24, 2011

I knew you could!

A friend sent me a care package...but inside instead of things for me, there were things for Kai. books, and stickers, crayons, a notebook and then there was a note for me. The note was to let me know that this care package was for me, well, it was to give Kai some things to do to distract him or entertain him so as to give me a little break. How sweet right? The thing is, 2.5 year olds are generally not very good at entertaining themselves. They like to be with you, kind of like a cat while you are reading a book. Anyway, one of the books was "I knew you could"  It was the first book Kai requested I read to him because it had a train on it, and it is kind of like a sequel to "the little engine that could" which he already has. So I open the book and start to read and pretty much cried the whole way through it. I swear that book was more for adults whose baby just died than little kids....well maybe not, but I see my grief in every thing. Following is the book, retyped for you to read.

I knew you could! And you knew it, too- That you'd come out on top after all you've been through. And from here you'll go farther and see brand-new sights. You'll face brand-new hills that rise to new heights

I wish I could show you the stops that you'll visit, but that isn't my choice to make for you, is it?
Instead, I can tell you some lessons and tales that I've learned and relearned in my time on the rails.

First of all, you must find your own track, so you can start right away and not be held back. but which track is yours? well, that all depends on which way it's going and where it might end.

Different tracks wind around, over, under and through, so pick out the one that works best for you. Though the track you start out on will feel like "the one," you might take a few more before you are done. And now, with your eyes on your new destination, start up your wheels and roll out of the station.

On your new trip, you'll make plenty of stops, In deep river valleys and on high mountaintops. Some will surprise you and some will be planned. And you'll roll through each one saying, "I think I can!"

You'll go through tunnels, surrounded by dark, and you'll wish for a light or even a spark. You might get scared or a little bit sad. Wondering if maybe your track has gone bad.

So here's some advice to help ease your doubt: the track you took in must also go out. So steady yourself and just keep on going- before you know it, some light will be showing. An the you'll be out, heading to a new place. You'll be ready for the next tunnel you face.

Sometimes you'll look up and see planes in the sky, and you'll think to yourself, "I wish I could fly." The cars on the roads will seem quick and free- You'll feel stuck on your track and think, "I wish that was me."

But the plane might wish he could get out of the air, saying, "I wish I could travel like that train down there." The cars will watch as you speed right along, and they'll say to each other, "Look how fast and how strong!" Don't worry about not being a car or a plane, just enjoy the trip you'll take as a train.

Don't be afraid to toot your own horn, if you need to be heard or there are people to warn. Or if being yourself just makes you so proud, that you want to share it and sing it out loud.

You'll follow your track through twists and through bends, and stop at new stops and pick up new friends. They'll all come aboard with smiles and greetings. You'll have such great times with the people you're meeting.

On the days when you're sad and feel you can't go, speak up and ask a friend for a tow. That's what friends do, so don't be afraid. You'd do the same if your friend needed aid.

You might stop at some stops that you never have toured. And look for new friends, but they won't come aboard. So you'll have to head out with creak and a groan, setting out once again on your track all alone.

Try to remember that the world is so wide, full of all kinds of people with their own trains to ride. Just stay true to yourself as you travel your track, with no second-guessing and no looking back.

Once you're on the right track, you'll probably say, "This one is mine-I'm here to stay." Try to enjoy the track that you choose-stop now and then to take in the views.

If you rush forward, as a general rule, before you arrive, you could run out of fuel. Don't overwork, but save up some strength. That way, every day, you can travel great lengths.

 You'll nee all that strength on the days when you're stuck, Or tired, or sad, or just out of luck. When your belief in yourself doesn't feel quite so pure, and your "I think I can" doesn't sound quite so sure.

That's when to push and to strive and to strain. To show the world you're not a giving-up train. And you're wise if you know that doing your best means that sometimes you should just slow down and rest.

Speeding through your whole trip will bring only sorrow. So slow down today to be happy tomorrow.

There's more about life that you'll learn as you go, because figuring things out on your own helps you grow. Just trust in yourself and you'll climb every hill. Say, "I think I can!" and you know what? You will!

I could sum up all the things I felt or the metaphors I read into but instead I will let you read it and see how you relate.

Monday, September 19, 2011

Moms Club Meltdown

I went to a moms club event this morning at Tumble.America. I wanted little to get some of his energy out. I knew it would be challenging. Seeing moms who I haven't yet talked to, and those who made our family meals and I haven't sent thank you cards yet. I have to get back into things, for my sons sake. Otherwise I will fold up into my own skin and never see the light of day again. SO I WENT. A dad walks in with his daughter, because his wife had their little girl over the weekend. We were pregnant together. She was one of the last of the group of us to be due. When I saw him I got a flush of anxiety and considered picking up Kai and running out the door. What a strange feeling that was. No control at all. I sat down and tried to think. Logically. Don't run away...Don't run away. Everyone was saying..."Oh _____, you're a big sister". I felt like Kai got so cheated. I couldn't say congratulations...because I'm a jerk. He said nothing about Camille. I did ask how his wife was doing because it was an elective C-section. I didn't really talk to him after that.

Another mom who brought me 2 meals was there...hugely pregnant (6 months). I gave her a hug and asked her how she was doing. Then I asked what she was having...WHY did I do that? (Probably because I don't know quite how to negotiate my sadness and my grief and being in public so I ask and do things I would have before because I feel floundering for small talk.) She is having a girl...of course she is...I didn't talk to her the rest of the morning. At the end of the hour I left, saying goodbye and saying "it was good to see you too" I got in the car feeling exhausted. I started totally sobbing. It was just so much. So much effort, so many babies, so much pregnancy. No one asked about Camille...I want them to but I was also glad they didn't because I would have just cried my eyes out. People tell me "I look good". They are either trying to be kind or are comparing me to my last pregnant puff ball status. 20 pounds overweight plus crying everyday for the last 2.5 months is usually not a good look for most women.

This morning before moms club, I went to the drug store and got some OPK sticks. I have never used them before. Kai asked why we were going to the store so I told him to get something because Mama and Papa want to have another baby. I am looking at the boxes, trying to figure out which one to use. Kai says, "this one won't die" Oh God! I hope not baby, I hope not.  When I was crying on our way home from moms club. He said I want to have a baby to bring home. "Please don't be sad anymore mama, I don't want you to be sad. We will have another baby to bring home" (Kids can be so freak'n intuitive) I said "I don't want to be sad anymore either, but I don't always have control over when I get sad, because I miss Camille, but I love you more than anything in the whole world." This parenting while grieving thing can be so tricky.

Between going back to Face.Book yesterday and going to moms club this morning...with all the baby girls born and to be born. It is just hard. And to think I was having a good morning. Feeling confident about going out into the world only to have the universe's equivalent of seagull poop rained down on me. ugh.

Sunday, September 18, 2011


I just signed back onto Face.book. I let the very public world know about Camille's death. What a painful thing to write. I haven't wanted to be on that site AT ALL. It is this happy land where people only post about all the joy in their lives. Every other post is about babies, pregnancy or babies and pregnancy! It is the online version of pleasantville. I don't know how much I will really be able to hang out there. IT IS PAINFUL for me. BUT. there are people who I know genuinely care and have wondered and it has been 2.5 months. SO. I wrote it. I wrote about Camille dieing and I hit POST. It is weird, like I was coming out about my daughter's death.  This place, the baby loss blog-land, feels so safe and accepting. Out their in the land where people's babies don't die. In the charmed world, it seems tumultuous to speak of my daughter. I am 13 black cats. I am broken mirrors and certainly broken dreams. I am scared about putting it out there. Maybe, it is the thought of opening myself up to more ignorant comments. I am hoping that I get support and love.

I actually cried after posting about it...my thoughts: "Oh Shit, it's out there now, no turning back" In some weird way I guess if the whole world doesn't know, maybe I am still pregnant or happily raising my daughter away from the public eye. It was all up to public speculation and a speculation I knew people would probably think the worst, and they are right. BUT...to me the ambiguous aspect of people not knowing allows some strange piece of my mind to believe that maybe just maybe~ I don't know what happened either. Maybe, just maybe I am still pregnant or happily raising my daughter away from the public eye. The mind is a very strange and twisted place, well at least mine is. I know some people actually thought I died, well a little piece of me did, but I am living and breathing, just really really broken. I may be hiding or deleting people. I may be deactivating my account again...but it's out there. People know. People know my daughter is dead. Gulp. My daughter is dead.

Friday, September 16, 2011

I Can't, But I Am

This pretty much sums up...how I have been feeling about Camille's death.
About giving birth to a baby who is dead.
About giving birth to my daughter who was dead.
About me continuing on and living even when I felt broken beyond measure.
About me existing without my second child.

I just miss her. I miss her. I miss her. I miss her. 
I can't do this.
I can't do this.
I don't have a choice.
I wish I could change this.
I miss her
I can't do this....
but I'm doing it anyway.

Tuesday, September 13, 2011

Don't forget to take your meds, sleep more and breathe deeply

I didn't sleep again last night. I woke up exhausted and knew I still needed to get my son ready for school. He didn't want to go and I am always tempted to let him just stay home with me...but I think the normalcy is good for him and preparing him for when I go back to work.

I dropped him off and went and got caffeine. It is one of those days. I was driving down the road when I was overcome by a wave of anger. This happens sometimes. I get moments of anger, it just washes over me. I can't do anything about it and I am consumed by it. I feel filled with it and almost hot and overwhelmed. I feel like screaming or cussing and then the anger mutates into total and utter despair and I feel like I am crashing with the wave, and the washing over instead, washes me away. I feel sunken and adrift and empty. Like the sadness will corrode my soul. I feel it eating away at the edges of my heart and the tears fill my eyes.

I forgot to take my anti-depressant yesterday. I think to myself, I must sleep more, go home and take your meds, clean up, take a shower, do something...So I come home and take my meds but instead of doing anything productive, I get on the computer to sink into blog land. This place simultaneously buoys me and scares me, that there are so many babies dying all the time. I need this space, I need to feel connected and that I am not alone. I have known these baby loss mamas for such a short period of time but feel so much love for you all. I hate that I am here. I don't want to be here. I HATE THAT I HAVE TO BE HERE. I want my daughter, I want to be filling my soul with the soft sweet smell of baby. The smell of her head and her full sweet cheeks, stroking her legs and feeling her grip my finger in her tiny hand. I want to see her smile and coo as she nurses and revel in her aliveness and instead, OH GOD instead I sit here sobbing, typing about my wishes and my loss and my missing. I can hardly stand the anguish sometimes. I am so bitter about my loss and seeing all the alive healthy babies being loved by their mothers. This was NOT SUPPOSED TO HAPPEN!

I went to yoga last night. I felt good. I didn't push myself. I tried to stay comfortable. I knew I would be sore. I feel so weak. It was a really positive experience for me. A time to focus on my body, to try and get to a space where I can just be accepting, even just for moments...or to not think of anything except the movement or the stretch, or the breathing. The release whether physical or emotional, it was a nice reminder to try and let go of some of that...yuckiness I hold onto. At the end, while relaxing, the music I swear was sucking at my heart and the emotional release, well I just cried and cried. It felt good, I just let the tears stream down my face. Maybe I should go once a week. Maybe it would be good for me.

All these emotions: it feels so out of control...it is out of control, but I have no energy to be anything but authentic. I just can't fake it. I allow myself the space to be what I am, in the moment. It makes me feel really manic sometimes, the emotional roller coaster of grief. Trying, I am trying. It is the best I can do right now.

Monday, September 12, 2011

Perinatology Hoopla

Well it was quite a morning. The first part of this post is a side of me I don't like but I acknowledge...We were sitting in the waiting room at the childrens hospital where the maternal fetal center is located. Sitting there with my husband surrounded by a bunch of ghetto obese under-educated people. I felt so out of place and hated myself for judging these people...but their babies are alive and mine isn't and the unfairness of it hits me like a ton of bricks. A woman was speaking to another woman about how she had one miscarriage previously and was currently12 weeks pregnant and farther along than she had gotten last time. She said: "I will feel so much better after I see that heartbeat" Ugh...I started to quietly cry. I wanted to run away. The heart beat THE HEART BEAT! That is all I wanted to see and hear too. She just has no idea...I felt like my asshole self judging these women and families is what caused my baby to die but...alas I know that it just isn't true. AND I am just way less kind than I used to be. I know that this experience should have turned me into a Mother Teressa type or made me love all mankind, but it didn't. Maybe that will come later. Maybe...Maybe Not.

The perinatologist we met with was very kind. I asked him about statistics surrounding full term infant deaths and he said it is hard because in the United States they group statistics for stillbirths after 20 weeks up to the first 6 weeks of life. He said in perinatology land (thats what I call it) they cluster full term still births up to the first 6 weeks of life which he said is VERY different than a baby who dies at 24 weeks. He said they should not be classified together because a full term baby is viable and is like loosing a child who is 18 years old or a child at 47 years old...the pain is just as great because our child died before their time...but their life no matter how brief should be considered precious and valued. (I am sure women who loose their baby at 24 weeks feel like they lost a child too...I am just writing what the perinatologist said.) He said that full term infant death is actually pretty rare, because it is not preterm labor in which the baby was born before they were ready....full term still births with undetermined cause occur about 1/10,000 or even 1/100,000. He said that he thinks they may know the cause in 50 years...right now we call it bad luck but something happened, we may not know why the baby died but there was a reason.

Soooo I asked him his recommendation on when we could start trying again. He said well THE recommendation is to wait a year...that being said, when you are ready, you should start when you want. Your body is healthy enough to carry another baby and I have no doubts you will have a healthy baby in the future. He said he would run a bunch of labs on me to screen for any possible things which would affect subsequent pregnancy. I had about 20 vials of blood drawn. The only thing that he found particularly interesting is the difference in weight between my two children. Kai was 8 lbs 12 oz...a big baby. Camille was 5 lbs 5 oz. She was measuring 2.5 weeks small on the ultrasound but that was still within normal limits. I figured my son was a large baby and my daughter was more the size my husband and I were. I weighed 6 lbs some odd ounces and my husband 7 lbs some odd ounces. Since she looked normal and the AFP screen came back negative (he said this is a good thing), it was probably not a chromosomal abnormality but with no detected heart murmur or fluid level abnormality it is hard to say. Also no cord knot and no VISIBLE infarct on the placenta. This does not mean there was no placental abnormality just that nothing was visible to the naked eye. Sigh....no answers before, no answers still. Not really expecting one, I just want to see what I can do about bringing home a healthy living baby. SIGH....

I am not sure how I feel about all of this. All I could really do is sit and listen, ask a few questions and wait. I feel like at least I am taking the necessary steps in the process.

Friday, September 9, 2011

A Few Things

I started going to therapy last week. I had my second session yesterday. So far I really like my therapist which is a nice change from my last experience with counseling where I stopped after the first session because the lady was a douche. Counseling is through Angel Babies of Hinds Hospice. A volunteer came to the hospital after Camille died, she was very kind and gave me information. Thank goodness because the social worker was, um, USELESS (she said~ let me know if you need anything, like a new dead baby mama knows what they need other than an alive baby, thank you very much for nothing lady). So I am feeling positive about my new endeavor on therapy.

I took my son to a pediatrician appointment the other day because he has been complaining of a stomach ache several times a day for 2 straight weeks. I talked to the doctor for an extended amount of time about Camille's death, the car accident, my husbands job situation and the stress in our home. He said he thinks my son's stomach aches are a physical manifestation of stress. Kai talks about Camille a lot. Even this morning over breakfast he was saying that he was sad because she died and told me all the things he wanted to teach her. It just breaks my heart. He has been stressed to be away from me and so he has been staying shorter days at school (he only goes 2 days a week) and he talks about the car crash all the time. I know this is taking a toll on him and it is hard because all I can do is let him talk, do art, and tell him and show him how much I love him. I wish I could protect him from sadness and death. It is hard that he has to learn such a hard thing at such a young age.  

I am going out of town this weekend. I'm going home to Santa Cruz and one of my closest friends had a baby boy 3 weeks ago. I am just not ready to see her or the baby yet, which makes me feel bad but well I just CAN'T. I wish I had talked to my therapist about it but I forgot.

Yesterday was my first day with my husband at work, Kai at school, my mother gone and me not working. I stayed busy ALL day and didn't come home. It actually turned out to be a good day. I ended the day with a CD my therapist let me borrow on guided imagery A meditation to ease grief by Belleruth Naparstek...It made me cry, it was lovely...but there was a little too much guiding. It was relaxing though.

This morning Kai and I went for a walk....and I just started my period (in my white lace underwear of course) for the first time since giving birth 9 weeks ago. My thoughts are everywhere: It is amazing to me that my body continues to function after being unable to keep my daughter alive in my womb. It was amazing to me that my body was able to give birth after her death. I am also glad I started my period. It took me 9 months after my son was born and I knew the sooner I started my period the sooner I would start ovulating and then the possibility of pregnancy is available. We have our perinatology appointment this next Monday.

There is just a lot going on inside this head and heart over here. Trying to sift through it all.

Tuesday, September 6, 2011

The Park

It is supposed to be a fun place....It used to be a fun place... NOW~ I dread it! Why? Because there are babies there...baby girls dressed in pink things, 6 week olds, 2month olds, ALIVE baby girls. I am cheerily pushing my son on the swing pretending not to notice the mothers nursing their tiny infants. Pretending not to notice them stroking their little limbs and feet. Pretending I don't have a daughter who I am aching for as I cheerily push my beautiful, happy, laughing boy. I am feeling the 20 pounds over weight that I am, wearing my size 8 skirt and trying to pretend I am not uncomfortable in my own skin. I just gave birth 2 months ago and my body looks like it, but no one else can see it. Don't get me wrong, I am trying to be kind to myself about my body. If I had a baby to show for it, I wouldn't care, but I don't. I am 20 pounds overweight with a dead baby and a new habitual routine of daily crying...

I start to feel that catch in my throat, the one that hurts when you try and swallow. It spreads to my whole neck and into my face, my head starts to hurt and my chest gets tight... the warning signs of potential downpour of tears. I think to myself "choke it back lady, you're not wearing your sunglasses". I tickle my son and push him higher as he screeches (and I scream inside), "smile, make yourself believe your having as much fun as it looks, talk to your son, distract yourself, STOP LOOKING AT THE FREAK'N BABY~ LOOK AWAY" why do I torture myself? I couldn't make up the next part for even a really bad movie~ There was a group of moms talking about babies dying and dying in general and "JESUS" and "HIS PLAN" UGH...I couldn't hear the whole conversation over my son's joyful outbursts~ Um THANK GOD (snark). Another mom on the swings next to us asks how old my son is and I say 2.5, her son is 2 months older than mine (but mine talks better~ another reason the universe killed my baby...because I think my kid is smarter and more articulate than other children even a year older than he is) She also has a 7 month old son....AWE how nice to have kids close in age, I don't say! Barf...Yep, I was glad my son and daughter would be less than 2.5 years apart. I wanted them to me close in age and I wished for them to be friends and playmates. I thought my family would be so complete with a second child. I was so excited...now I feel so incomplete.

My mother went home this last weekend. She also lost a baby, her 4th and last to renal agenesis. (Another case of no smoking, drinking or any other bad habits just super bad luck) I was 7 years old and we all got to hold him for 4 hours before he died..The odds were bad for her 1/6000 babies, like the 1/160 odds were bad for me. Sometimes I feel like our family is cursed...I mean 2 babies dead? I know they are totally unrelated, and my daughter didn't have anything wrong with her~um she just died!!!
I am kind of convinced that someone has made a voodoo doll of me and has some nasty pins they keep sticking me with, then picking me up and playing "lets talk about dead babies in the park with her bwahaha." The crazy in my head is astounding.

My mother returned home this last weekend.
She wrote me this note:

               My Precious Daughter,
                  This is all a collection of moments in time. 
                  Some joyful, some sad, some interesting and even awe-inspiring. 
                  All are valuable and useful in some way. 
                  Keep seeking, noticing and storing up the good. 
                  I love you so very much. 

So I am trying to seek and notice and store up the good because right now everything seems so bad. Like I have said before, I am a chronically happy person who is just very EXTREMELY sad right now. 
Stupid Park!

Sunday, September 4, 2011

On Par

Yesterday I spent the day with fluid flying out of every orifice of my body, hung over the toilet and lounging on the bathroom floor. I haven't been that sick in who knows how long. I ached in every joint and got up at 3am with a fever of 101. I realize that this is on par for how my life has been in the past 2 months. You know the saying when it rains it pours and then in my case it hails and hurricanes. My daughter dies, my husband gets a job as an elementary vice principle which he has been working on for the past 2 years. Then while my mother is in town trying to help with the transition of my husband going back to work and dealing with my grief and mothering a 2.5 year old, we get into a horrific car crash . With all of the stress of losing our daughter and the car crash my husband calls everyone from the priciples, curriculum directors, area superintendants and district superintedent to tell them he won't be taking the job and why. Everyone is very "understanding" that he needs to be with his family right now. BUT...it is hard. He was interviewing for these jobs a week after Camille died. It was hard for me but I was trying to support him. I think he was just on "Go" mode. Then he got what he wanted. After the car crash I think he realized how easy it would be for us all to be taken away. I think this actually made the stress of Camille's death manifest itself in a more palpable way.

My brother came into town yesterday to pick up my mother and take her home to Oregon. I haven't seen him in at least a year. He is my older brother...not the one I wrote about here. My little brother who was spoken of in the linked post, at least called me while I was in the hospital. My older brother didn't call me after Camille died, not for weeks until I complained about it to my mother. Then when he did call he said how sad it made him, he had been incredibly busy and everytime he thought to call it seemed to late at night....wow...the excuses...I guess my baby's death doesn't rank high enough on the to do list for a phone call. It makes me feel very "oh yeah I should call my sister" secondary and insignificant.

UGH...Anyway I woke up yesterday and all hell broke loose with my body. I think in my delerium and tears I thought well this really is on par for my life right now. This is a physical manifestation of the shit and puke of my life. My body aches like my soul aches and no one can deal with this except me. I just have to keep vomiting and shitting until I run out...I wish it were that easy in dealing with the grief of my daughter's death. I feel better today....not 100% and I spent most of the day in bed....I wish I could mend my broken heart so quickly...but instead I will feel like this on the inside forever. The anguish of this is palpable. I have been crying about Camille more today than usual during the day. I think I am so exhausted and run down from being ill that I have no control over my sadness and everything is very raw and at the surface. I said Hi to my brother but he didn't want to get sick with a 2 day drive in front of them and my mother left without a good enough goodbye because I was on the bathroom floor sobbing. It all just fucking figures....I actually said this to them..."It just figures that I would get the flu, after everything I have been through, it just figures"