So, here I am. Two weeks out from my loss with Emma. I can't say it's gotten better. Yesterday and right now I've been more numb, just empty on the inside. I've been keeping busy. Took my LC (living child) to the splash pad after a pizza dinner. A friend came over with her toddler to play with us for a bit before that. Hubby has the day off today. He had two days of bereavement his boss insisted he use, so we're trying to do things as a family to help connect us. I dread my husband going back to work tomorrow.
I think the ashes will be ready this week. I'm not sure what I think about that. I won a $20 GC to shutterfly to honor my angels and I need to see what I want to do and what pictures. I wish maybe I'd had Katie be in the photos with us since there's a family one that doesn't include her and I worry if she sees it when she's older she might feel left out. I don't know. So much to think about.
I miss my Emma. I was up in the middle of the night just imagining how she felt in my arms, her face, her hands. So, so perfect. Dead because of me, her mom. The one who was supposed to keep her safe, protected, and growing. I let her down, I killed her. No, it was never my intention. Heck, I spoke to two different doctors before even allowing a small amount of caffeine into my body. I followed all the "rules" and was careful, but none of it matters, I s'pose. In the end of the day the body that was supposed to grow her, killed her.
I think about her personality a lot. What would she have been like? Would she have been mild and sweet like Katie? More assertive? Bossy? What would her favorite color have been? Would she be more girly or more like a tom boy, sorta like Katie? Would she love music? Dancing? Climbing? I'll never know.
"They" say it gets easier. I'm still waiting.