i wish my memory would fail me.
truly i wish that the image of R, clutching kate, in the rear view mirror would poof into thin air. this is why studly drove, because if i were behind the wheel, i would have flipped around and bolted back to them. it took every ounce of strength i had left to not jump out of the moving vehicle.
call me cliche, but i left my heart with that little girl.
almost two weeks after kate was born, R and i sat in her case workers office as she read a letter from birth dad's so called lawyer stating he no longer planned on placing kate.
just like that another daughter was ripped out of my arms.
my last night with kate.
studly arrived and i am pretty sure i collapsed into his arms. i married such a strong man. such a tender, loving, okay-with-picking-up-the-pieces-of-his-crazy-wife, man. i would not have survived without him. i watched him take care of kate those last 12 hours and it seemed like a sick crime that he wasn't going to be her daddy. they way he held her, that tangible love that only comes from a father.
the love we felt from R and her family was overwhelming. they took us in as if we were a part of their family. loved us. gave us a bed, food and support during a very stressful time. i distinctly remember a blessing i received from R's brother in law while i was in reno. the man had known me all of but two weeks and he was willing to help me find peace and comfort. they all did. even eighteen months later i can't thank them all enough. i love them all still.
the morning we left almost killed me.
in fact, i regret not holding kate that morning. i couldn't do it. studly did, but as he was readying to pass kate to me, i stood aside and let R take her. why didn't i hold her?! why didn't i snuggle that sweet little girl one more time?! i did kiss her. i told her i would love her forever. i told her she had a loving mother who was going to take care of her and give her a happy life.
i love how her bink was almost as big as her face
one last kiss, and i swiftly walked to the jeep before i fell apart. i melted into the seat. in my mind a merciful god would let me die. isn't that what happens after such a tragedy? you just die, right? i didn't see how my life was going to continue.
as we drove home, not a word was said. maybe a , 'do you need to stop for a coke?' but no conversation. no talk about kate. no talk at all. we just drove back to our lives. the world didn't stop for us, and the world wasn't shaken over our situation. it continued on regardless of how badly we were hurting. regardless of how hard it was to breathe.
seriously, the universe offended me.
i've said this a few times in past posts... i don't think it is innate in us to just give up. i think we sure as hell want to sometimes, but the human spirit wants to survive and overcome. i found this annoying for the first few weeks i was back home. ask my pal ashley. i am pretty sure i told her i wanted to run my jeep into a tree/over a bridge/into a lake every single day.
sigh, but i didn't. i'm glad my soul knew there was happiness beyond the pain. eventually.
we arrived home on a friday evening. before going to my empty, baby less house, my sweet mom bought all the comfort foods you can think of and fed me and studly. she held me close when the tears came. my dad offered a priesthood blessing. they told us they loved us, which was what we needed. more than anything i needed to know i still mattered, that i wasn't a failure. i had already been told i wasn't capable of having children, and now i found out i sucked at adopting them. i was nothing short of a failure.
i woke up saturday morning in need of a drastic change. well, actually, my first idea was to hit up the local liquor store but they are apparently closed at nine in the am. i suppose only alcoholics start drinking that early. well, and me. i did the next best thing. you see, i have an amazing hair stylist. she has taken great care of me for years, and i called her up with a crazy request.
cut. it. off. ALL of it.
good thing she agreed or else i would have becoming a raging alcoholic. while most people would probably take time off from work and life in general, i went back to work that monday. i needed my mind to be occupied as much as possible. at the time i was blessed with amazing bosses who worked with my situation. they cared enough to understand that i had days where getting out of bed was impossible. however, i tried to keep myself so engrossed with work so my mind didn't wander. when i wasn't at work i was furiously scrubbing my house with the music blaring. anything to keep my head from learning how badly my heart was suffering.
basic survival was my life now. get up, shower, go to work, come home, breathe, sleep, repeat. it is hard to explain how deeply we were wounded. that i took so many showers each day (to hide the sound of my sobs) that my skin was cracked and dry and would bleed. the burden was so heavy that i would often drop to the floor and find myself unable to move. i couldn't find a reason.
the sunday following our arrival back home was mother's day. ouch.
the next sunday was my 25th birthday. double ouch.
it was like i was a stroke victim. i had to be taught how to live again.