I feel like I spend a lot of time tip toeing around myself and my feelings. Because I know how crazy I can be and I know how delicate my everyday sanity is. An article about taking pictures of a stillborn baby makes me shake. We didn't take enough pictures. I wanted more, I just wasn't strong enough to say please.

Birth Plan

I was just thinking about how much time I spent writing up a birth plan when I was pregnant with Charlotte. How we paid for and went to classes on pregnancy and birth. And how we didn't bother when I was pregnant with Sophia because we knew it was out of our hands. I think about that sometimes, about how sad it is.

Whether

It doesn't matter if its because the sky is on fire, or because the blue moon has disappeared. No matter the weather, I am thinking of you.

Can't Not Think

Charlotte, my baby girl. My tiny princess. I know it's not your birthday, but I can't stop thinking about you and I had to write it down. This would have been a big week for you. You would be starting Kindergarten. We would have walked you to school, right up to your classroom. Kisses for mommy and daddy, giggles and hugs for Sophia. What clothes would you have worn? What size shoes would you be wearing? I can almost picture you sitting at a tiny desk, listening to your teacher, big, intelligent eyes taking in everything around you. Almost. We were almost there, but instead you were taken away with the wind. Gone in an instant that has turned into an eternity.
Will it always be like this? My lists of what should be, what could have been? You sister is the most amazing thing in the world, but she isn't you. She is not, has never been, a replacement for our little star. I can watch her grow up, see into her eyes, hear her laughter. And I enjoy it. I revel in it. But I cannot help but wonder how similar you two would be. How different. Sophia loves her preschool. She gets to play with other kids, and it reminds me how lonely she is. She talks about you all the time. I hope you know that. I hope you can visit her dreams. I wish she could know you like we did. I wish I knew how to handle having two daughters but only being able to raise one at a time. I hope I never make her feel set aside, I hope she never struggles with being an only. Because I don't think she is an only, but it's so hard to explain that to people when they ask.
I'm sorry that I leave you alone. That I've stopped talking to you and I don't visit your headstone. I feel like you're nowhere and I am struggling with that. I am struggling to believe. I am struggling to keep walking in the right direction, when most days, I don't know up from down. I struggle to be a good mom, when I feel like i'm being punished for losing you. By losing you. I don't know what to believe.

If she hadn't died, I would be registering Charlotte for Kindergarten right now. Maybe even today, I would be inside an elementary school with my little girls standing next to me. We might be meeting her teacher, she would be smiling shyly at her soon-to-be classmates. If she hadn't died.

Fireflies

I'm listening to this song for the first time in 4 years. I used to sing it to Charlotte in the car. I have to start believing in fairy tales again before Sophia is too old to believe. I have to help her believe before its too late.

You'll still hope

Not even 3 minutes into Private Practice from last week, and I had to turn it off. Amelia going into labor.. How matter of fact she is about it, knowing she wont hear her baby cry. How she is acting so cold and so business-like. That's how I was. I just went through the steps to get it over with, so I didn't have to think about what was happening. Or what was going to happen. They don't tell you, when you're in that situation, that you'll still hope. You still hope that when your baby is born, the doctors were wrong and you will hear crying. That everyone and every test was wrong. They don't tell you that.