Silence

The ticker at the top of this page says that it has been One Year, Three Weeks, and Four Days since my baby died. I am constantly left in awe of the fact that the world just...keeps going...people just, well, they keep living. The birds that chirped when we left the hospital before dawn left for the winter, but now they are back and they are chirping again. Seriously, WTF. It's exactly as though nothing has happened.

Have you ever seen one of those special  airplanes go zipping through the sky, faster than the speed of sound, and been struck by the silence of the world around it? Thats how I feel, one year, three weeks and four days after that sweet little girl left. How is it possible that things can continue on after Phoebe just the way they did before Phoebe? I find myself anticipating a blast, the noise, a sonic boom. Maybe it will be me yelling as loud as I can HELLO YOU PEOPLE!!! MY BABY IS DEAD! DEAD!!!!
                Doesn't it matter...?

One Year

  Jonah has been looking ahead to his birthday since last summer. When at long last I turned the calender to the month of April there was cause for celebration. I made a big deal of marking his birthday in huge, bold letters with a permanant marker on the 19th of April. What kind of mother would I be if I didn't also, then, mark Phoebe's birthday in big bright letters on the 11th? I stood back and looked at my handy work and let me tell ya...things looked different then I'd seen them for the past year. (Year? Seriously?) Suddenly the tiny baby I've ached for was a little girl who should be smearing cupcake all over her face and hair tomorrow. It breaks my heart to think of the friends she may have had that are now beginning to walk and toddle around - they will never miss her because they never met her. This week rehashes painful memories, and happy memories that never came to be. I comfort a new baby in my arms now and while the joy of having him is increased by the pain of having lost Phoebe, the thought of having missed this sweet time with her is much worse now that I'm reminded just how precious these first weeks are. I look at my perfect little baby boy and wonder how the heck we survived watching our litte girl die... There is nothing worse that I can imagin.

   2011 sucked. Worst year of my life. How can the events of one year change a person the way they've changed me?  While I'd never wish it on my worst enemy, I'd never trade it for anything. In this year since Phoebe I feel like I've become the most blah person to be around, like the life has been drained out of me. I guess that is what happens when you spend a year going back to the fact that life is short as a primary source of comfort; death is temporary separation. There is a gap between me and my friends now because in this one year our growth has been in entirely different directions. Who can relate to me now? Actually, I've made good friends into enemies in this year. When insomnia strikes, which has been much more frequent in this year, I spend my time awake in bed just wishing God would spare me the image of my newborn daughter in her grave....

Then again, here I am, and I am able to look at my newborn son and be truely, deeply, so sincerely grateful. Four weeks after his birth and I still couldn't care less if he wants to keep me up all night or spit up all over my favorite blouse! 
   *SIGH*  Well this is beginning to meander. Happy Birthday Phoebe, I hope you smear cake in your hair in Heaven. It's probably a tastier cake then I could make ya anyhow...