Emma's been gone for one week. One week. In some ways it feels like yesterday, in some ways it feels like long ago. In some ways I feel like it was all just a nightmare. Was I ever really pregnant? I was so scared of a loss and spent my first tri in paralyzing fear, especially when my first ultrasound was less than ideal. I felt different from day one and it scared me.
I grew in confidence as I got to the second tri. I started embracing being a twin mom and what that would mean. I joined a multiples local group, started asking questions and making plans. I couldn't wait to find out the genders so I could plan even more. I really and truly didn't care if I was having a boy or girl or both or what. I only cared that they were coming and I was excited, and yes, a little scared.
One week since I said goodbye to Emma and clung onto hope that Chase would make it. He'd already beaten the odds by not being born when she did. They were going to do surgery on me due to the extreme blood loss from Emma, but I stabilized last minute. I let myself have hope.
I remember a week ago lying in the hospital bed holding Emma. A lot of people walking in and my introducing them to her as I held her. I shared with those who came to visit. I was numb, but still hopeful for Chase. I was determined. I had no idea I was even sick. I didn't know what was even going on or how I lost my babies.
I started getting questions of what to do with her body. Her body. What do you mean? She's in my arms, all dressed and beautiful. She looks like big sister Kate. She is so beautiful. My Emma Lee. I will never, ever forget you. I love you forever and for always. My Emma, I wish I could've saved you. I'm so sorry my body failed you. I love you.