More moping

Tonight as Livie was finishing up her shower, I reached into the linen closet and grabbed a towel. My hand came out holding a fluffy blue towel. Carter's towel. Not that he ever used it, but it was bought specifically for him. I thought about handing it to Liv, but I knew she would protest. So back into the closet it went. Who knows when we will use it.

After she was tucked in, I started picking up, and check out what I found.

A couple of days ago Livie asked for some blue envelopes so she could write a letter to Carter. The envelopes are full of her magnetic letters. I found them in her pretend mailbox. I wonder if she was just mimicking motions, or if in her mind she wrote a letter to him and was trying to send him something.
(To update, Liv saw them laying out in the morning, and shrieked "My Carter letters!"  She licked the envelopes closed and plopped them back into her mailbox.  I guess she is trying to send him something.)

This whole thing plain old sucks. The reminders of him are everywhere. I want so badly to remember him but it seems like all I remember is his stuff. The swing, the car seat, the clothes, all the things that I remember buying for him. But it is hard to remember him.

When I close my eyes I can only conjure up a couple images of him in my mind. I want to have memories and stories to tell. How can I love and miss someone so much that I never even truly got to meet?

During my pregnancy I rarely got the chance to relax. I don't have any memories of sitting down and just focusing on the baby. I try to remember a time when I just soaked up the kicks and the movement, but I can't. I was always busy and stressed and exhausted. I barely remember the pregnancy. Just snippets of a kick here or there. The lack of memories is painful.

I feel like I am grasping for straws to try and keep him in my mind. We haven't gotten the rest of his pictures back yet. I am so anxious to get them - I want to see them so badly. And at the same time it will be hard to get them, because that will be it. The last chance for a part of him.

I have been having good days and bad days. Today was definitely a bad day. I miss my son so much, it is all I can think about sometimes.

My last alone day

Today is my last alone day of my leave. Those 6 weeks went by quick. And I am not sure it was enough time, but it is what it is. I have to go back to real life at some point.

Tomorrow I will have a home day with Livie. This weekend brings birthday parties (not hers; shoot, I need to get on that...) and chores. On Monday Shawn has an MRI. Tuesday I go back to work. I won't work a full day, and I haven't yet decided when I will go in and when I will leave, but I will be there.

I am dreading Tuesday. I know that all eyes will be on me when I walk in. And I know that my co-workers will be in and out of my office all day. I have awesome co-workers, and it is not that I don't want to see or talk to them, it will just be exhausting. I know who will guard me, who will avoid me and who will ask questions that are way too personal. I am trying to come up with answers in my head to the questions that I know are coming. I will not make it through the day without tears.

More than I dread going back to work, I dread seeing my clients. For the most part, I have awesome clients too. Good and caring people, many of whom I have worked with for years. I asked that the partners notify my clients of Carter's passing. Did they? I am not sure. But every client I have to visit will be like that first day back at work all over again. I know who will cry with me, and who will not acknowledge what happened. I don't know what will be worse. After awhile, both are exhausting.

Today though, I will try to relax and prepare. I will try on my fat clothes and maybe go shopping. And I will write letters to Livie. (4th birthday, 5th birthday and 9th birthday are done on paper, and several others are written in my head)

Before I go, check out Carter's tree - growing like a weed!

 

Letters to Livie

Bad things don't just happen to other people. They happen to us too. 2011 has done a fine job of making sure that I know this.

I have always had the intention of writing letters to Livie, so that she would have something should I not be around. It was an idea I got before she was even born, from some Lifetime movie where a little girl's mom died. But it has always been just a good intention. I have scribbled out notes here and there, but never to the extent that I intended.

When I was in the hospital with the PE, I was scared and so regretful that I hadn't written Liv her letters. The middle of the night what-ifs in a hospital are awful.

So, I now have my own tradition for Livie's birthday. Last week, I bought cards. Lots and lots of cards. From "Happy 4th Birthday" to "Congratulations on the birth of your baby" and everything in-between.

I am going to spend the coming weeks writing letters for each card. Then, every year when her birthday comes around, I intend to update the letters that need updating. Writing to her has taken more time and made me cry more than I expected. I am hoping that by telling the Internet my plan, it will help hold me accountable. Hopefully Livie never needs to see these letters, but it brings me an odd sense of comfort to know that they will exist.

In more upbeat news, we have been busy taking down fall decorations around the house, and putting up winter ones.  (Carter's swing is still sitting where the Christmas tree traditionally goes, so I have a feeling it may be awhile before the tree goes up.)  We made snowflakes last night.  The three of us each cut out our own snowflakes, and then Livie asked me to help her make a baby one for Carter. This morning she taped them up on the cabinets of a bench that is in our entry way.

I took these pictures all within a minute or two of each other.  All with the same settings, and no flash.  The lighting hitting the bench was no different for any of the doors.  I retook all 4 pictures several times, trying to get the cabinets to look similar in all the pictures.  Each picture turned out the same every time.