five

Then She Was Five

I’m actually fairly lost for words, I’ve already written a post for her anniversary in April.
But ultimately, her birthday I cannot comprehend that we have a 5-year-old daughter, her birthday being today, yet we don’t have a 5-year-old.
The years have moved on, people have moved on. Everything changes. People you’d imagine would still be around aren’t, people you never expected to be now are. Seems such a long time, but it really is so short.
Time hasn’t healed a thing. it actually makes me watch it more.
I’m feeling particularly numb and cut off from everything this year.
Everything about this year is so similar to that of 2012 (bar the weather). Today is Sunday, her birthday; she was born on Sunday.
The day was glorious sunshine, it continued to get hotter the whole time she was alive, I even had sunburn in March, was wearing vest tops and flip-flops.
I’ll always remember the day she was born, I remember all my children’s days of births, hers is no different.
But I wish things could have been different. I truly believed that once the first year was out of the way everything would have been back to normal, I would have healed, moved on and forgotten. But I have learned that isn’t going to happen, I’ve adjusted and adapted in a way I feel comfortable, unfortunately, it hasn’t been understood the way I have found my coping mechanism, I’m open and honest, I’m still breathing. I never imagined I would be where I am today.
I still don’t understand how or why she died, the unfairness of it all, that emotion is as raw now as it was back then. The pain remains the same, simply because she is still not here, but she is still my daughter, no amount of eye rolls, back turning or conversation changes will stop her from being our little girl.
The little girl who is so beautiful. She had blonde hair with a hint of red, so maybe like her brother, but lighter, her eyes were a bluey colour but under the unnatural light of the unit it was hard to tell, I’ll never know what they would have been, that will always bother me, and I will always say that. She had the most delicate soft fingers, 8 fingers two thumbs, she was always fidgety, she was on the go most of the time Little Miss Fidgety Pants. She had character, she was her own little person, living in a plastic box, in a blanket of wires. She burped milk out of her tube, pulled 12 feeding tubes out a day, smacked the cardiologist, kicked the doctor delivering her, and had a dummy weeks ahead of schedule, she was even trying to root the breast.

Community

There is a well-known quote in the baby loss community, about babies who die in the womb never feel pain only know love (something along those lines). It struck a chord with me.
I have no idea if she was in pain, particularly in her final hours, she went through so much in her final 6 hours, she didn’t have us. I cannot forgive them for not phoning us sooner. I can’t. I’m allowed that little bit of bitterness.
I worry she didn’t know that we were her parents, I was her Mummy, looking back I sometimes wish (had we known she was going to die one day, which we didn’t), that we’d not had so many visitors in, just grandparents, that we had kept her to ourselves our little unit, to not have let anyone else come to say goodbye. Too much went on that final day so many, many regrets that we can never ever change, but cannot ever be forgotten.

I bloody miss that girl so much, I just wish people would understand, or at least try to understand.
I am not the person I was. I am never going to be. You cannot expect us to.
I guess we cannot expect to be understood either.

 

I’ll never be able to comprehend any of it.
It feels like her memory is almost forgotten.

Rather than a party today, and a living room full of paper, we had lunch at a local pub which has somehow become a traditional place to have her birthday lunch. We usually have a family and friend get together, today it was just us. It was perfect, we’d been to visit beforehand took her some flowers.

 

 

 

Today is her day.
Her birthday.
Today she should have been Five.
Would have given anything to kiss her tiny fingers again…

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