6 Weeks Without Her

Tomorrow is June 16th - Kara would have been 1 month old.

Instead, she's been gone for 6 weeks. I should be pushing her in her stroller, dressing her in beautiful clothes, entertaining her grandparents, aunts & uncles, as they marvel at her beauty and try to make her smile. I should be worrying about trivial things such as losing the baby weight, pumping milk, and who she resembles more - my grandfather or my husband?

We have been thrown into an alternate universe. This is not the right life - something happened, and it's not supposed to be this way. What happened to our perfect life? There's been some huge mistake. Kara was our whole world, and now she's gone. She never even took a breath. At 37weeks, 3 days, her heart stopped in utero - and our lives went with hers.

Kara, you never got to see your daddy's face, or hear his voice, or feel his warm embrace. You didn't get to take a breath, or even cry. I didn't even see the color of your eyes! You'll never lay in that crib or giggle at the birds in your nursery. You'll never run to greet the ice cream man, or attend kindergarten. I didn't get to take home the baby I've waited for and dreamt of, for 9 months. I cannot live with knowing all that you have already missed, and all that you will miss out on. I cannot fathom this new life where you are not here with daddy and me. I cry for hours and hours each day for everything we've lost together. Baby, if I could give my life for yours, I would gladly do so. I would give my life to be able to hear your cry. I would die happy, knowing you're alive and with your daddy.

I am so grateful for the 9 months that you were inside of my body. We were connected in the most intimate way that 2 human beings could be. You felt my every mood, my every craving, my love and anticipation for you. I felt your strong kicks, somersaults & hiccups, and gave in to your fantastic appetite. Pregnancy is not fun, and I complained of pains and discomfort. If I knew how trivial it would all become, I would have cherished every sleepless night & physcial discomfort. After all, it's all we'll ever have together. If I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't have slept a wink, for fear of missing out on one minute of your brief life. I was so naive, Kara. Never in a million years did I think you would die before you were born. I didn't even know it happened to healthy babies in healthy pregnancies. There were no signs - you were active and strong. What did I miss? How did I fail you? My life will never be the same.

I look for answers everywhere. I've read every book on child loss and many more on grief. I'm meeting other grieving mothers online, and couples in 'group'. I've spoke with priests, therapists, psychologists, nurses, doctors - no one can tell me when I'll 'feel better'. When will I wake up and not cry for hours and hours? When will I sleep through the night again without waking in an anxiety attack? When will I stop hating pregnant women and women with newborns?

People tell me that grief never goes away, but it 'softens' in time. How long? Soften? Does that mean the physical pain in my belly will go away? Or does it mean I don't wake up crying every morning for the rest of my life? Will I learn to accept the depression and accept my new shitty life? Do I stop hating new mothers and pregnant women? What does this mean???

Kara, I must trust in my faith in order to carry on just one more day. I know that you are one with God now; you know all. You know how much we love you - you've seen your daddy's face, heard his voice calling you 'honey bunny', seen us crying at your grave. You know I awaken every morning with a deep longing for you and for what we will miss together. You know our love for you will never end, nor will our sorrow. I need you to know how much we love you, and how much you are missed.

I'm so sorry baby. So sorry for all that you won't get to do, so sorry for all that we'll miss together. My life is not worth living without you. I wish I could go back in time to June 2nd, with some advance sight of the future. Then you could be in that stroller today, while mommy & daddy walked you along the beach to the calls of the seagulls. You will always be my perfect girl. xoxoxoxo Love, Mommy.