Emmy part 4

I opened my eyes. I was surprised at how good I slept. It's a really strange feeling, waking up the day after giving birth with no baby to love on. 

Her things were still all around me. Her new pieces of clothing hung up in my closet. Her blankets folded next to my bed. I went a little blanket crazy. I made four new Minkie blankets. I couldn't stop myself. The sight of those things stung like a bee sting. I thought to myself that I had to do something about them.

I rolled over and looked at Matt. He was already awake. He hugged me tight. We both missed our Izzy. My mom called to say she was on her way over with her. 

Izzy ran in the door, she was beyond excited to see us. "Mommy! Daddy!" She exclaimed. I hugged her so tight, and then I started to cry. She looked concerned. Matt quickly stepped in. "It's alright Izz, mamas just happy to see you." 

We decided when we woke up, we would try and explain it to her right after she got home. Like tearing off a band aid, so the anxiety would stop bleeding. I said, "Izz, mommy and daddy need to talk to you."

We took her in our room, and sat her down on the bed. I started, my voice was already quivering, and my body shaking. "Izz baby sister went to live in heaven." She quickly responded. "No mama, baby sister is going to come play with me." Ouch. So much pain. I realized that I broke my two year olds heart, and with that came the breaking of my heart. 

I started again, "Honey, baby sister wasn't as strong as you, so she had to go back and live with God in heaven." She got upset and ran away. Matt told me to just let her go. We would try again later. 

I couldn't hold still, there was so much to do. Buy her a dress for her to wear in the casket. Go print off a picture to show at the funeral. Go to the funeral home and make the arrangements. That last part hurt. 

We started with the dress. This is how I know that someone up there knew how important this was to me. Around Easter I was looking for a dress for Izzy, when I came across the most beautiful, flowy, angel looking dress I wanted to get for Emmy. I looked at the price tag. Thirty dollars. Ya right. That was never going to happen. I was disappointed. This dress was so beautiful. I left the dress there and  left. 

Remembering this dress, I thought maybe we should just go see if it's still there. I no longer cared that it was so expensive. It was perfect. As I searched the racks, it was no where to be found. I was devastated. I know that sounds silly, but when you only get to pick out one perfect outfit for your angel baby, it has to be the right one. As I was ready to leave, I saw it! On the clearance rack! I picked it up slowly, holding my breath that it was the right size. 

0-3 months! It was a miracle! I looked at the price tag, ten dollars. I almost cried. I could see in my head how beautiful it would be on her. Paired with a sweater my mom made for Izzy when she was a baby and the most fantastic shoes that Lucy bought for her. It was ment to be.

I was exhausted. I did just give birth the day before. But I was so afraid that if I stopped for one minute, I would break down. So I told my Mom and Matt that I wanted to get all of my errands done. They both protested, saying I needed to sleep. I could sleep later. 

Dress, check. Hairbow for Emmy, check. A Tupperware box to put all of Emmys things in from the hospital, check. That was so important to me. If anything got ruined or lost I would die. It was time to go to the funeral home. 

As we walked in I gripped Matt's hand tight. With the other hand I shot Lyss a text. "I'm going to the funeral home to plan my babies funeral, I can't do this." She wrote back almost immediately. "You CAN do this. You are strong!" With those words in my head I walked in and sat down.

I looked around the table, it was filled with people that loved us. Grandma, moms, and sister. They were all trying to be brave for us. I wanted to tell them that it was ok, they could cry. They didn't have to be strong. But I just sat there, silent. 

The man leading the meeting was kind. I can't imagine all of the sadness he has seen people go through in his career. I did not envy him. He asked us questions, names, addresses, who we wanted to speak, what music we wanted. I looked over at Matt. He was staring at the pamphlet with all the headstones and prices on it. Tears were welling up in his eyes, and then without his permission, they started to fall. His grandma comforted him. As we talked about funeral prices I started to get overwhelmed. Without missing a beat our families said not to worry that they would cover it. Wow. What a blessing, I am in awe of their kindness. Thank you to those who did this for us. You know who you are. We are forever grateful to you and touched by your love for us. We love you all. 

We left the funeral home to head up to the cemetery to pick out her plot. My body was telling me to rest. I told it to be quiet. 

Matt really wanted her buried next to his grandpa. The man, that taught him how to be a man, he says. He has so much love for him. We all walked into the office. 

Because the plot was already bought, it was a big family plot, the only fee would be the opening and closing of the grounds. Another blessing.

Finally we headed home. I got out of the car and saw the beautiful flowers on our porch. I began to cry. I walked in our house. More flowers. So many people letting us know they cared. For the first time in awhile, I cried tears of appreciation, tears of gratitude. Friends, please know that at a time like this, every flower, every card, every kind word, every prayer, every thought, is cherished. We are forever blessed to have such amazing people in our lives. We felt the love, we felt the concern. Thank you, to each and every one of you. Please know that your kindness will never be forgotten. 

Emmy part 3

I held her. But not to tight. She was so fragile.

I began to speak. 

"Hi my sweet girl, mommy loves you so much." I began to weep. So hard that I couldn't see. "I'm so sorry honey. I'm so sorry." I wanted her to know how much I wanted her. I began to cry harder. My whole body was shaking. I started to get angry again. People were already telling me that this must have happened for a reason, that god must have needed another angel. I hated that. Didn't they know that I wanted her? That she was supposed to stay with me? That no one could love her, and care for her like  I could?! God has plenty of angels. I needed her here. I began to talk again, "I'm so sorry baby, I would have taken all your pain if I could. In my head, I had this vision of her, yearning to hear my voice as she passed on to heaven. I pictured her so scared and wanting me. The thought kills me. 

The realization that my time with her was getting shorter, sent me into a panic. I needed to be her mama. I wasn't ready to give her up yet.

When Izzy was a baby, I made up this song to comfort her. I used to sing it quietly into her ear as she fell asleep. "Izzybelle, Izzybelle, I love you my Izzybelle. I love your eyes, and I love your toes, and your cute little button nose." To this day she still loves when I sing the song to her.

Thinking that Emmy would never get this, broke my soul. So I frantically searched my heart for words. As quickly as I searched, I found them. I leaned over so my face was next to hers. "Emmy bear, Emmy bear, I love you my Emmy bear, I'll memorize your face, we will embrace, one day up in heaven." 

Again I said I was so sorry, I felt like I failed her. I then told her all about her sister, how funny and smart she was. I told her that she was so excited for her baby sister to get here. I told her about her daddy, and how that stubborn heart of his, was softened the day he became a father. I told her about me, and how my love for her would never end. 

All of the sudden the wonderful ladies from share parents arrived. They were truly aching for me, they to had been through this. They had me pick out an outfit for her. A perfectly pink striped footie pajamas. They asked me if I wanted a hat for her or just a bow. Just a bow of course. She had to show off that beautiful hair. Then they took her, to clean her off, to take pictures and to do hand and feet molds. 

Right when Matt returned, the social worker showed up. I didn't want her here. I wanted her to leave. She sat down and got right to business. "Did you want the body cremated or buried?" She said. 

My mind ran with rage, how dare she refer to her as a body. She was my daughter. My baby. "Buried" I said. 

"Opened or closed casket?" I'm not sure why she needed to know this. "Closed, no wait, open." I wanted to show people how beautiful she was. Definitely open. 

She handed me the death certificate to fill out. It was all to much. I couldn't do it. The thought of me filling out a death certificate for my daughter was painful. I handed it to Matt. I felt like a child. Not an adult. I was too young for this. I shouldn't have to be doing this. I felt overwhelmed. Talks of autopsys and extra tests made my stomach turn. No, no autopsy. Just leave my baby be. She's perfect. 

The social worker asked what happend to make her pass away. It was none of her business. I asked her to leave. 

My nurse told me she wouldn't let me leave tonight if I didn't eat something. I didn't want to. I wanted to punish myself. I wasn't hungry anyhow. Maybe I should shower? I smell. 

They finally brought her back. They commented on how she looked so beautiful. How she looked like she was ready to go home. Stab to the heart. I know they didn't mean it like that. We held her for another hour. 

It was time to say goodbye. I didn't realize at the time I would see her at the funeral, so the thought of saying goodbye killed me. How do you say goodbye to someone you love more than life itself? 

Matt sat down on the bed next to me, I said, " I think it's time." Even though I said that I instantly regretted it. He said that he agreed. 

We sat there, both of us holding her hands. Kissing her head. Telling her to never question our love for her. Telling her, that her sissy loved her too. We decided that it would be to traumatic and confusing for Izzy to see her. A decision I still stand by.  

"Goodbye baby girl, no, not goodbye, see you later." I started to cry again. "Matt I don't want to say goodbye, I don't want to let her go, please don't make me let her go." He held me, he told me I could hold her for as long as they would let me, if I wanted. But I knew it was time. The longer I waited, the harder it would be. 

Matt went down the hall to tell the nurse we were ready. As they came, I instantly felt panic. This was goodbye. We both kissed her. The nurse wrapped her in a blanket, then picked her up. She was so careful with her. She said, "You know, if you want to change your mind and see her again, that's ok, I can bring her back." Then she walked out. I knew if it was up to me I would want her again. But I didn't know what was right for my sanity. For Matt's sanity. We decided we would see her on Friday. 

Bri came to see me, I was so glad. I needed to see her. Marissa and Lisa came back too, with a basket of necessities. I was so grateful to them. Toothbrush, deodorant, pads, pjs and so much more. We needed all of that. After all we never planned to stay. 

I wanted to shower. Matt helped me up, helped me get in the shower, and even helped me wash my hair. I told him I needed a minute.

I sat there. Water pouring down on me. I looked at my stomach. It still looked like I was pregnant. I wished I still was pregnant. I had run out of tears at this point. I just sat there, and stared at nothing. Thinking how surreal this all was. Wondering if I was going to make it through. 

The doctor gave me the ok to go home, but only after I ate. I did, half of a club sandwich. I really wanted to go home.

Matt took everything out to the car, then came back to get me. He helped me in the wheelchair. I was so glad my parents had taken the double stroller and car seat out if my car so I wouldn't have to see them. We wheeled down the hall. As we passed one room I could hear a babies heartbeat on the monitor. I was so jealous of that heartbeat. The sound rang in my ears. 

Home. We were finally home. Izzy was at my parents house. I missed her but was so glad for the quite time. I needed to think, and sleep. 

I sat on the bed, Matt next to me. We opened the memory box that share parents gave to us. In it, was everything she touched. Her pjs, her blanket, even a lock of her hair. Seeing that made Matt break down again. He just held the little plastic bag, staring at her dark brown hair. Crying. We decided to finish looking at it later. We went to bed. I, with Emmys blanket. I could still smell her on it. I was never going to let it go. 

Emmy part 2

Five. I hate that number. I was at a five forever. My stupid cervix wouldn't move. They kept upping my pitocine but it wasn't working. Finally they broke my water, That got it moving a little. Then the pain came.

My nurse kept asking me if I wanted my epidural. I kept saying "not yet" because I didn't want to feel one ounce of pushing her out. I was already in enough pain, and I was not about to get my epidural and have it wear off before. Finally my doctor came to check on me, she told me there was no reason to wait, that I didn't have to be brave. So I asked for it.

The man with the needle came. He was cold. He was there to do his job and nothing else. Afterwords Matt would comment on how offensive it was that he didn't have more sympathy for me. There he was, taking care of me again. I have never been so grateful to have him by my side. 

Then it happened. The moment I was dreading, and the moment I was looking forward to all at the same time. I could feel her head. She was ready to come out. 

Matt went down the hall to tell the nurse. The pressure was terrifying, I felt like I wanted to die. I was also afraid of dying. I know now that was irrational to think that, But I honestly thought I was going to die. 

The nurse came in, checked me, and said she was ready to come out. What an amazing nurse. Not once did she act like my labor was any less important than someone having an alive baby. She talked about her in present tense. She talked about her with concern and kindness. She prepped me, putting my legs up for me, I was numb. I couldn't do it by myself. 

I looked at Matt. I could tell he wasn't ready for this. The nurse had him hold my leg, he really didn't want to. So I asked him to come up by my head and sit instead. I think I just saved him from passing out. After all, this was his daughter too. He needed my support as much as I needed his. 

My mom sat in a chair by the window. She was quite. A look of pure sadness was on her face. She wasn't ready for this either. She kept giving me looks of support letting me know she was there if I needed her. 

The doctor came in, she asked me if I wanted her on my belly. I quickly said no. The thought of that horrified me. At this point I didn't know if I even wanted to hold her. 

I began to push, everyone kept encouraging me. I wanted to give up. It was like a cruel joke. Yeah, push her out, but you don't get to keep her, so don't get excited. So cruel. 

Finally the last push. She came out, but barley, the cord was wrapped around not only her neck, but her entire body. The thought that my body gave her life, and then my body took it away would later come to obsess my thoughts with hatred for myself. 

She was beautiful, Absolutely stunning. The moment I saw her was a bittersweet moment. It cut deep. I started sobbing so intensely I was worried I was going to pass out. I lost it. I couldn't breath, I could think. Every ounce of strength I had disappeared. Yet all at the same time, I still got that mothers pride. She was still mine. Still my baby. She looked just like her daddy. 

It never occurred to me that they wouldn't have all of the "after birth" tools. No baby warmer. No nurse to wipe her off and swaddle her. Nothing. Just a simple baby basket. That's it. That part tore at my soul. 

I politely demanded they give her to me. I wanted her so badly. All that fear of holding her, quickly got replaced by the realization that this was it, the only time I got to hold her, kiss her, absorb her. So they wrapped her in some sort of plastic blue pad because her skin was so fragile, and handed her to me. Being ever so careful with her.

I looked over at my mom and Matt. They had both become consumed with grief. I just kept saying over and over again "look how perfect she is." She was perfect. 6 pounds 3 ounces, 19 inches long, Beautiful dark brown hair, Long fingers and tiny toes. Perfect. 

I just stared at her. Tears falling off of my face onto hers. She looked like she was sleeping. Why wouldn't she wake up? It was all to much to handle. 

After they all told us how beautiful she was the nurses, the doctor, and my mom left us alone. We were quite. Matt still didn't want to hold her. He felt guilty for thinking before about how much of a hassle it is to have a newborn. He would give anything for that now. The late nights, the dirty diapers.

 After a while of me telling him that he would regret it if he didn't hold her, he finally did. He held her and loved her, while touching her tiny fingers. Tears streamed down his face as he whispered "daddy loves you." That image will forever be in my mind, I'm so grateful for that. 

I didn't want visitors, I wanted to be selfish. I didn't want to share her. But as I realized that we were not the only ones grieving I was opened to the idea of a few people. 

Matt's parents and sister came up first. They walked in, I'm sure not knowing what to say. They touched her hair, held her hand, And kissed her forehead. Everyone comment on how much she looked like Matt. They didn't stay long, I'm sure out of respect for me. But I was grateful they got to see her. 

My dad came up next, my mom was still in the hall. She joined him. This part really upsets me. My dad, the biggest teddy bear Who had just barley told my mom last week how excited he was to hold her was there, heart broken. I could see the pain in his eyes. I could tell he wanted to break down. He never got to have that first papa-grandchild picture that he has with his other grandchildren. I could tell how much he loved her, how much he loved me. My heart breaks more. I love you daddy. 

My mom went out to make some phone calls. Matt went to grab some food. All of the sudden I felt like I had to throw up, it was coming, and fast. I frantically told my dad he had to take Emmy. The nurse came in just in time to grab me a pail. It came out. My body was so tired. I was so traumatized. I needed to rest, but couldn't. I was beginning to go emotionally numb. Would this day ever end? 

My parents decided to leave and give us some time. My dad thanked me later for letting him say goodbye to her.

Matt was so exhausted and was missing Izzy. He needed to see her, and she needed to see him. So I told him to go. Honestly I needed alone time with her. I needed to be free to talk to her. So I began... 

Emmy part 1

Im trying to come to terms with it. I'm trying to let myself heal and I feel this strong urge to tell my story. So here it is, the story of our daughter Emmy, and how her short time with us filled our hearts with more love, joy, pain, and self reflection than we could ever have imagined. Coming to terms that in reality, we have no control, and learning how to embrace that.

I should start at the beginning. Where I thought I had control of my life. 

We found out I was pregnant late August, early September of 2013. I took a test and instantly those tiny little blue lines appeared in a plus sign. I sat in the bathroom for a minute just smiling to myself. I was in shock at how easy it was to get pregnant this time. With Izzy it took the better part of a year. I know that's nothing compared to some peoples struggles, but to me, it was a lifetime of negative thoughts, and thinking it was never going to happen. Anyways, I sat in the bathroom, smiling and then finally going downstairs to tell Matt. 

He looked up at me, knowing instantly by the smile on my face that it was positive. That still didn't stop him from double checking the stick for himself. I'm pretty sure he was in disbelief. Like something had to be wrong with the stick or something. I climbed up on his lap, and nuzzled my face to his and said, "we are going to have another little babe." 

The wait for that first doctors appointment is the worst. The worst. I was becoming so impatient. I was also struggling with keeping the news to myself. I was so excited. Around eight weeks that all changed. 

In the shower one evening I lost something that looked like an egg sack. I stood there, trying to convince myself that it was nothing. After all I didn't have my contacts in or glasses on, and I am pretty blind. It was probably nothing. A good hour went by before I told Matt we needed to go in so I could get checked. 

On the way to the ER, I started crying thinking it was over. I said to Matt, "I shouldn't have told anybody." He replied with a sympathetic look. He never knows what to say when I cry, and that's ok. Most of the time I just need a hug. 

We walked into the ER and explained what had happened. The wait seemed to last forever. Finally we got called back. The nurse asked me all the routine questions. I know that's her job, but I was anxious, and annoyed. I wanted to know if I lost the baby or not, and I wanted to know now. 

They wheeled me into the ultrasound room. When she pulled it up on the big screen, there my little babe was, all wiggly and perfect. What a relief. What a miracle. What a gift. 

But it wasn't over yet. I had a quite large tear in my uterus. And it was bleeding all over the babies sac, which could mean, if I wasn't careful, I could lose the baby. 

So I was put on bed rest and was to make an appointment with my doctor in one week. 

Bed rest is not easy with an almost two year old. Especially when you are trying to plan her birthday party. One week finally passed and I was in the doctors office. The news wasn't bad, but not good. Still bleeding, more bed rest. Sigh. I was so frustrated. I know that sounds silly, I was so grateful that my baby was still ok, but at the same time I was feeling so guilty that Izzy's birthday party had to get canceled. I felt like she wasn't getting one hundred percent from me, and that made me feel awful. Luckily my amazing families planned not one but two parties for her that I could go to and just lay on the couch. I had to keep reminding myself that she was so little, she would not even remember that I told her we were going to have a party at the zoo. She remembered, but she was ok with the promise that we would take her soon. My sweet girl, always so patient and kind. 

A week and a half later I got the ok to get off bed rest. My tear was almost healed, the baby looked good. Thank goodness. The doctors assistant told me how lucky I was. That things like this don't usually end up with a happy ending. As I walked out to my car I took a big sigh of relief. God was on my side. He was watching out for me. Later I'll get into how I would come to question God and everything I thought I knew. 

As time went by, and my belly got bigger, I got more excited! Around 16 weeks I just had to know what I was having, so I went down to Salt Lake with Bri and found out. Another girl! Sisters, future BFFS. The thought of that made me smile. Even though I will admit I was about ten percent sad I wasn't having a boy at that time. After all, we thought this would be our last baby. That feeling only lasted for a minute and I was back to being excited. 

I had a pretty great pregnancy. Except for the horrible back pain. I couldn't complain much. Around February, we got everything we needed for our new addition. Which wasn't much because we had almost everything from Izzy. I was so proud of myself for not going money crazy. Clothes wise I only bought about four new things. My favorite of those, was by far the matching pink and mint colored bicycle print dresses and pants I got for Izzy and Emmy. Matching, sisters, little, tiny. What isn't adorable about all of those words!? 

My third trimester. Finally! Finally! I swear the day my third trimester started I cried a little because I was so relived that this pregnancy would soon be over. I could fit into some sort of normal clothes again. I could walk upstairs with out having to rest halfway. I could pick up Izzy for more than .5 seconds at a time. But most of all I would get to meet our new daughter. I was seriously looking forward to those post labor pictures. You know, the one where the siblings meet for the first time and the older sibling kisses the baby on the head. The ones where you all crowd over the hospital bed and the mom looks like crap, but she doesn't care because her smile is glowing and she feels complete and utter joy because she just got to meet her new son or daughter. I was already planning it out in my head. I needed to find Izzy a "big sister" shirt. So excited, but nervous. Two kids is a lot different than one. I kept telling myself that I could do it. 

Finally week 38 came. My doctors visit went great. Her heartbeat was strong and she scheduled me to be induced on that following Monday. One week, two days. So close. I would later come to regret wishing my pregnancy away. Wishing it would go by faster. Never again will I take that for granted. 

The day after my appointment. It was a Saturday. Matt, Izzy, and I got up and started our day. I remember this day like it was yesterday. I went to breakfast at herms with Ashley. We talked for two hours like we always do. Then Bri and I went to Tina's baby shower. A good day. A busy day. So busy I didn't notice until I got home that I hadn't felt Emmy move all day. 

To be honest, the time line of the next events are all blurry. All I know is they happened. I ate dinner thinking that would wake her up. Nothing. I got in the bath. Nothing. I drank really cold water. Nothing. 

I'm a known worrier. I get that from my mother (sorry mom, but it's true.) I started to worry, no scratch that, I started to panic. I called people to get their advice. I finally decided that I would wait till morning. But as soon as I made that decision I changed my mind. I called the doctor. She told me to go in right away. We dropped Izzy off with Ashley and Devon. They would take good care of her. She loves them. Plus we wouldn't be gone very long right? 

The drive there, I was strangely calm. Almost like I knew what was coming. I told Matt I knew something wasn't right. He told me that everything was going to be fine. He was taking care of me with his words, or at least trying to. I'm so grateful to this man, for how he takes care of me.

We checked in. Matt was trying desperately to put a smile on my face. He even stuck straws up his nose. 

The nurse came in and put the belly monitors on. She couldn't find a heartbeat. She said something sweet about how sometimes it's hard to find one with the tools she was using. She would call for an ultrasound. My concern grew. Finally the ultra sound tech came in. She didn't turn the monitor right away. Not until I asked her to see it. Nothing. I saw nothing. My heart sank. I held on to the tiny glimmer of hope that this was all just a big mistake, that she was fine. The ultra sound tech said the nurse would be right back. She couldn't even make eye contact with me. I asked while she was walking out "you can't find a heartbeat?" She simply said "no." 

I heard the nurses asking in the hall when my doctor was coming in to talk to me. Then I knew. I knew she was gone. I started to cry, Uncontrollably. I had to explain to Matt that she was gone. He was in denial. And shock, we were both in shock. 

I had to call my mom, I needed my mom. No matter how old you get, at hard times, you always need your mom. I called her, I don't remember our exact conversation but it was along the lines of "mom I need you, come now" then her asking if the doctor was sure she was gone. "Yes they are sure." 

My doctor got there. I'm not going to say her name. But let me just tell you, she is the kind of doctor all doctors should strive to be like. Her kindness, sincerity, honesty, concern, and genuine love for her patients is what I give a lot of credit to, for making it through these next hours. She's amazing. I am eternally grateful to her. Also to the nurses that were so unbelievably kind to us. Logan regional hospital, you hired some good ones. 

My doctor got there, she sat down and held me and Matt as we cried. She cried with us. Her words were soft and kind. She told me it wasn't my fault. That's where my mind was at, it was my fault. She sat with us, it seemed like forever. Sometime in there my mom arrived. Like I said, all a jumble of a timeline. She gave us options. I could go home and come back in the morning, or I could be induced tonight. Wait,what?! I have to give birth to her?! For some reason that never crossed my mind. I guess I just assumed that they would give me a C-section. How I wanted a c-section. 

I had to give birth to her. I had to somehow wrap my mind around that. I didn't want to, I was terrified. I kept telling my mom and Matt I was so scared. My mom told me she would do it for me if she could. I believe her, I see in her eyes the love she has for me. The tears continued to fall, I could have filled up an ocean. 

I decided I wanted to be induced tonight. They started me on the pitocine. All of the sudden I wanted Izzy, I yearned for her, I needed her. I would do anything to get to her. I wanted to hold her and tell her how sorry I was that her little sister wouldn't be coming home. How sorry I was for all the missed memories, sister talks, giggles, hugs and so much more. I wanted to tell her I would die and leave her sister here for her if I could. I wanted to hold her and never let her go. 

Labor was a slow process. In my eyes it lasted for days. The minutes ticked by, giving me anxiety attack after attack. Sometime around 11 pm everyone tried to go to sleep. They kept telling me to sleep. Ya right. I was wide awake. My mind racing, tears streaming down my cheeks. I pleaded with god. I said over and over in my head "please god just bring her back." That thought was on repeat. I thought that it was all a dream for awhile. I would wake up and everything would be fine. I convinced myself of it. I was going crazy. I started to get angry. How could this be happening? Why me? I was so angry. 

After Izzy was born I had postpartum. Really severe postpartum. So severe I feel like I missed out on most of the first year of her life. I grieved that for a long time. I was finally getting over that grief. I was finally moving forward, and now I have lost my other daughter. Not only would I have to miss the first year of her life, but her whole life. She was gone. How does one wrap your mind around that?