Our New Normal

Today was the first day of what our family’s new normal would be. 

I woke up with my husband holding me and my son had weaseled his way into our room and was laying horizontal underneath my pillow somehow. 

I woke up surrounded by those I love, and reminded myself that I am strong, and I have to be strong for me and my family.  And we have to keep moving forward.

I got things started for the day, wake kid up, start breakfast, make sure lunch is packed, the usual.

I went into my bathroom to get presentable to face the public, and seriously considered not going to the gym, which I have attended the group exercises there religiously for years. I hunched over and felt weak, and my stomach was in knots. But then I straightened my back, stood up tall, and reminded myself I am a strong ass woman who can do anything.

Daniel and I rode to school without incident. I did keep glancing back, expecting to see my daughters infant carseat.  I headed to the gym and prayed on my way.  I prayed for God to help me be poised, and strong and gracious, and that when people look at me, they see God's hand. I got out of the car after a few deep breaths and headed into the gym like a storm.  I was ready to go.  Get the burn and adrenaline rush from working out.   I feel so guilty sometimes for trying to move on, and normal our life.  But my daughter will never be forgotten, and she would want me to be happy.  I know that for sure because all my son wants is to see my happy.

 

Many people said that were happy to see me, or expressed their condolences before I got to class.  And for that I am grateful.  Grateful for their kindness, and grateful for a distraction that I wasn't dropping off my baby girl into childwatch, fretting about the last time she ate, when she was last changed, and would she feel safe with these new people.

I worked out which helped my mood overall greatly.  I know I sound crazy, but I absolutely love pushing myself, and the feeling of accomplishment when you have a successful workout.  I did literally pause a few times during the workouts.....because I was painfully aware that my big pregnant belly wasn’t there anymore.

As I left class something was wrong, off.

But I remembered my daughter.  That’s what was off.  That’s what was missing.  Savannah should have been a few yards away from me safely taken care of while I exercised.

But I persevered.  I gave that damn workout my all.

Arriving at the gym I was powerful, determined.  When I left my class I first started to head to childwatch.  I had fantasized about these moment, these times of us at the gym together so many times.  Showing off my beautiful little babygirl to everyone. When I remembered that my sweet daughter wasn’t in childwatch, but gone, my heart broke a little again.  I walked so slowly.  My face and heart leaving the gym was of despair, confusion, and regret.

I walk so slowly and kept feeling as though I was forgetting something,  That pull.  Savannah should have been here with me.  I should be walking out to the car, putting her in the carseat and cooing and talking to her as we drive home.  But that is not the hand I was dealt. 

 

I ran a few errands and went home, not unlike any other day before.  When I came home my husband was still asleep, so I cuddled with him and took a nap, which was not the plan but what I needed.  My marriage grounds me.  I’m not sure what I would do without that man. 

After we woke up we talked and watched TV and he headed off to work.  He should have left work kissing our daughter goodbye.

After he left I fretted about the house, doing random chores and paperwork, deciding that my to do list could wait. And I needed to rest and focus on myself.

I picked Daniel up from school and he was very upset.  He wasn’t himself.  Which I understand, he has had a tragedy happen to him, as well as his mom not being well enough to care for him for a while.  When we get home my mother in law stops by and we chat and I cook dinner, give Daniel a bath after. 

My son sits on our reading chair, blue dinosaur pajama bottoms on, and one sleeve in of his Bulls pajamas, I know I'll have to help him later.  

We sit down to read our two books, as we have had this schedule for many years.  Story time is always hard for me.  I am reminded of how many nights I propped the book on my big belly as I read, and knowing Savannah could hear us reading and talking. I am reminded of the picture I had in my head. 

Bedtime should be so hard. A newborn baby and a six year old by myself?  I remember commenting to my husband that it would be soooo difficult for me to take care of both of these kids on my own while my husband was at work. What I wouldn’t give to be struggling with a bedtime routine for my daughter and son.

 

We read our two books.  My voice cracking every few pages, painfully reminded that Savannah is not here to hear these stories.  That after this, I only tuck one child in.  Only one child gets to be read to, and prayed with, and then put to bed.

I managed to stay strong for my son.  I walked out of his room. Done for the night.  No baby would be waking up in a few hours, my heart ached I started bawling. 

This isn’t right. This isn’t how it should be.  I cry and clutch the pink dress, the only outfit she ever wore.  I sobbed at her memory, and at the possible future we had planed. I thought it would comfort me to look at her clothes hanging up.  IT did not.  It was just a sad reminder that all of that careful washing and organizing of sweet little pink onesies was for nothing. 

I went to look at her urn.  That made my heartache more,  My child.  My first daughter.  The baby I love more than anything, is in ashes on our mantel.  I cry and look around angrily that all of the baby stuff is gone.  But we don’t need it. 

As I sit here calmer and write, I look around my house, void of little pink baby gear.  I feel an emptiness in me.  It will always be there.  I have had a child die, and when she died so did a part of me. 

But through the difficulty of looking around my house, imagining what could have been, I am reminded that she is in heaven.  She doesn’t, and never got to feel pain.  She is in perfection.

So although my womb, heart, and house feel empty.  I am full.

Full of the love of God, full of the love from my son, full of the love from my husband, full of hope for the future.

As much as it pains me to do it without my sweet Savannah, I must go on. 

I will go on.  I will be steadfast and become an even better person. She has inspired me.  Taught me how precious life is.

God will make beauty from this tragedy.