Yesterday when max was giving me hugs, he said, oops sorry, I don’t want to hurt the baby in your tummy. Something I had told him for months, and he had finally learned this month. We seem to have this conversation a lot right now. And then he bluntly repeats, "the baby died," and runs away.

We went to the funeral home today to sign paperwork. I could barely write that sentence. How am I supposed to sign my baby over. every question seemed agonizing. I had somehow gone from planning her baby shower, to her funeral. In 24 hours. Life changes in an instant, and its never been harsher.

I had a full blown panic attack before we left. I was standing in her room, I didn't know if I should bring clothes for her. We weren't prepared for that in the hospital. But 5 min before we left, I had the mothers instinct to want to dress her for this final stage. And I mean I was just standing in front of that dresser screaming internally because I DID NOT KNOW WHAT TO DO. All of the emotions were coming out. Nothing seemed right. Nothing is right in these moments. I finally decided the outfit I had chosen for her to come home in, was still going to be the one she came home in. A simple pink sleeper with Hello written all over it. And a bow. She was still going to get these things I had dreamed of for months.

I also chose to include her bunny. My boys each have a jellycat stuffed animal that they became extremely attached to. They were given by the same person, but usually after birth. Hers came early, just like her. And she will forever be with it. 

As we drove to the funeral home I just kept thinking, what are we doing. You never stop thinking its a mistake. That this isn't real life. Im looking down at this outfit and bunny that I'm just leaving somewhere. Her arrival was supposed to be this new chapter of my life. And it is, in the worst way possible. I am just wandering it aimlessly. I don't know which page comes next, they are all awful right now. But Im trying, I really am. Even on the days I spend morning to night, curled up in bed crying. I am breathing. I am clawing myself along in this nightmare. One day it will be easier, but that day is not today, and thats okay. 

with love, lissa