They take me straight down the same path every night. Repeating all the pain, sadness, and fear over and over until I can eventually fall asleep. I just want her. I want her to torpedo into my arms like she did every morning. I want her to push on my cheeks and squeal with joy when the released air hits her face. There are so many things I need so desperately and I cannot have.
In child development I remember learning that babies well into their first year believe they are a physical extension of their mothers. An extremity that aids in developing healthy attachments and bonding. Many mothers would argue that their children are literally their extremities. Especially the toddler age children. Mother's and babies, Mother's and toddlers are attached physically throughout the day forging that attachment and bond. It is as strong for the mother as it is the child (in my opinion). Mia is a continuation of myself. How do I stop the bleeding now that she is not here?
Learning to live without one of your limbs cannot be easy. It is not easy. Everyday there is a new struggle... something new to punch you in the stomach as a reminder that something you cherished so much is no longer here. People who have lost limbs learn to adapt, learn to cope with their new lives. Suddenly finding yourself in a wheel chair cannot be easy. You cannot achieve many things you did before. There is no choice in the matter, you just have to do what you can and attempt to be OK emotionally about it.
When Mia went to Heaven it left me without my extension of myself. I need that Mia extremity in my life. She brought so much light and joy to all of us. Learning to live everyday without her is daunting and painful. I have been living these last months with the disability of not having my daughter with me. It is something I do not want to do, but I do not have a choice. I have to at least try to learn how to do things. Try to do everyday tasks without the pain and sadness looming. It is difficult almost beyond what I am capable of doing. I have had the help of so many of you and yet I am still army crawling throughout my day. I need her. I just do.
Learning to live completely different from what you have grown accustomed to takes so much. It takes so much from you and takes so much time. I am not interested in it... any of it. I don't want to change, adapt. I just want my girlie and I don't want to think about every little detail of our future without her. No thank you!
We all have this disability now... living without Mia makes life significantly more difficult for all of us. She has been amputated from our lives. Every time I think the bleeding has slowed I am floored with how much it hurts to live without her. All of my earthy shortcomings and inability to see the big picture floods into my thoughts just when I think I can handle my life. We are far from healing...well, I am far from it. All of my dreams about my life are suddenly solely based on survival. I know there are many things I could be doing that would help me out, but actually doing the things I know will help me are almost impossible. I have hope that I will do them eventually... I just can't reach out, read books that give me strength, and most of all I don't WANT to be alright. I am emotionally missing so much of myself... it just isn't there. This isn't something that can be taught... learning to live without something you have had for years. You have to actually do it... you have to take that first leap trying to do tasks with out the luxury of your complete self. I have to try and metaphorically eat my food everyday without my arms... it's not easy. I am in the frustrated, stumbling part of this all and it is all so discouraging. Why this trial? Why?
This is my girl when she first learned to stand. Every move she made was magic. I remember when she took her first steps I cried for a solid hour in my room remembering back from when we were in the hospital. I remember thinking about how when she got out of the hospital and learned to walk I would be a completely different person. I was so different the day she walked from when we were in the hospital. I celebrated her life daily... taking care of her was so rewarding. Authentic joy was felt everyday in our home. Why couldn't we keep her... we just need that little person!
Today I am completely different than both of those previous moms.