There is the 1st, which is the day she died and then the 7th, the day she was born. So which do I mourn for? Both.
I remember sitting at the funeral home telling the Director that I wanted to have her buried quickly because I didn't want it to drag into the Christmas holiday and forever have the attachment to Jesus' birth as being the day of my daughters' burial. I just didn't think thru that part of the suffering at that point. I was a little shell shocked.
Over the past couple of months, I've had the urge to come and update or write about the little things that reminded me of Charlotte, but I was able to resist it. A marker of *growth*, of moving on, or so I thought. Three years has come and gone and it is not nearly as difficult as it used to be.
Truth is, I didn't even want to come on tonight. I didn't want to hop on and hear that song or see those tiny fingers on the screen. It is still hard. I'm still hurting. Not wretching in pain like before, but a dull ache. I can take a deep breath now, but I also notice little girls often.
So the month of November is a big blur. I seriously feel like I have lost yet another chunk of my life. Poof! It's gone. And I can never get it back.
When I was pregnant with Charlotte, I was 31. It was a rough year. I finally came out of my fog at 33, almost 34. That's two whole years I feel like I just floated right thru. I remember some things that happened in the 2 years since she has been gone, but for the most part, I feel like I'm just now picking myself up and dusting my ass off. I was stunned. I guess that's the best way I could put it.
This month, my oldest daughter became very ill. So ill that she'd spent almost 2 weeks in the hospital. The doctors didn't know what was happening with her and one doctor rold me that they didn't know why she hadn't died. It was that serious. They considered leukemia, and drew out some of her bone marrow. It was a very scary time. They have since determined it to be a blood disorder (possibly hereditary). And although I'm relieved to know what it is.. so many emotions have washed over me. She seems to be healing really well now and I'm so thankful for that. So there is no logical reason for me to be freaking out. But I do from time to time.
She was in the hospital twice. Once for a week and the other for 5 days. The doctors sent us home on November 11th, at that time without a proper diagnosis. (We didn't get that until later). And the sad thing is.. all I could think about was how on November 11th (2006), I was sent home from an ultrasound appointment with hopeful news that Charlotte would be ok. That all of her problems had *cleared up*.
Then she died on December 1st.
When *A* and I left the hospital on this November 11th, I was terrified of the next 2 weeks. And tonight, I'm afraid of tomorrow morning. Maybe I'll pull an all nighter and not go to sleep. Then I won't have to wake up to December 1st all over again. I've got 6 minutes to go....