Simon started pre-k this past August. I wish I could say he absolutely LOVES it. He only tolerates it. He's always asking 'Is there no more school' and I cringe when he asks on Monday, Tuesday, or Wednesdays. By Wednesday, he will flat out cry when you tell him he has TWO more days of school left. The good news is I don't have to leave him kicking and screaming every morning. He wakes up and we get dressed and eat on the way to school. He never cries (I'm probably jinxing myself) on the way to school or once we get there. The first two weeks of school are another story entirely but we've gotten over that hump (the Walmart toy section benefited from his tears). His teacher sends me pictures sometimes and he's always smiling in them so hopefully he is having some fun. Before school let out for the Christmas break I had a conference with his teacher. She only had good things to say about him (she better) so I'm hoping this means she hasn't picked up on how much he despises her class. Good news is he seems to like her so I don't think this is a reflection on her part whatsoever. Simon is a homebody. He'd rather be here at home than any where else at any given time. If you say, "Si, do you want to go to Disney World", he will more than likely tell you "No". Just who he is. With all of this said, sometimes he makes entertaining comments about what he'll do so he won't have to go to school. His recent fad is super heroes; Hulk, Captain America, Iron Man, Spider Man. I've heard him say things like he's going to grow up big like Hulk so he can smash the school so he won't have to go. I laugh and tell him how silly he is but deep down I'm wondering if I should be concerned...I mean he has 12 more years of this, at least. Let's just pray Kindergarten will be a different experience for him and let's be thankful there are laws about being in school up to a certain age. Surely he'll be convinced by a law, right?
I say all of that as background information for a conversation he and I had today. Six months ago Si asked on a more regular basis about Evie. Questions I'll never forget. He asked the same ones within a few days apart but eventually he asked me this, "Will Evie ever come back?". I wish I could say I had this long drawn out, extravagant answer. I didn't. I couldn't say anything. I shook my head and tears fell down my cheek. That look on his face. I'll never forget it. Disappointment. Simon experienced disappointment and that crushed what was left of my soul. It's hard watching your child grieve. It's also hard to explain to a four year old where his sister is. She was here and then all of a sudden she wasn't. He and I dropped her off that morning, July 15, and he never saw her again. We didn't let him be a part of her service or allow him to see her before the service in the casket. I don't regret that decision. He didn't need to see her like that. But he misses her too. Heaven and God are mostly over his head right now but we've talked about it more in the last six months than he and I ever have before. He knows "baby Ebee" is in Heaven with God. He knows that she's safe and that she's still apart of our family. He will tell anyone he has a baby named Ebee (Evie). That's his baby, she was his from the beginning and to this day, that's still his baby. It is so sweet watching him continue on her legacy. But its so hard as well. Imagine your precious child asking for something, knowing you can NEVER give them what they want. My words don't put a dent in the pain it causes me knowing he doesn't get to have his baby back either.
So today, Simon had a dentist appointment. This was his second cleaning appointment. His first cleaning was back in June, when Evie was still with us. All three of us went on that trip and it was one of those trips that makes you realize life is different with two. That trip consisted of Evie's bottle spilling out all over the place, Simon having an accident, Evie blowing out her diaper, then spitting up what little I could salvage of her formula. I walked into the Carter's outlet in commerce with two naked kids that day. I specifically remember laughing so I wouldn't cry. On our drive to commerce today, I was talking to Simon about his first dentist appointment and how they just brushed his teeth and how sweet they were to him. We were talking about the last trip out there and he remembered Evie spitting up. I should have seen this coming but out of no where he says, "Mama, I'm ready to go be with God and Ebee". Ditto, my child. At this point I can barely see the road through my watery eyes. I clear my throat and ask him "Why do you say that", and he says, "So I won't have to go to school anymore!". Literally a laugh out loud moment! This child is desperate for 'NO MORE SCHOOL'.
Most days Si is the reason I keep going, keep getting up, keep pushing forward. Moments like today help me see it a little more clearly. I need constant reminders of why I'm still here and God blesses me with those moments. Sometimes it through Simon, sometimes its through friends, and sometimes its through my kids at school. But I also know I'm not alone in my sadness and grief. My first born is still grieving too. He and I are on different levels, but he lost his baby sister. He may be 4, but he knows our home is different.
For those of you reading this, I am forever grateful for your thoughts and prayers but I have a favor to ask of you; please pray for Simon as well. As he gets older he will understand a little better but he still misses his baby. When we visit where she is buried, Simon always asks for the key to the church so we can get her. For him, Heaven is a place here on earth where babies are. I'm always praying for the right words to help him understand but I always have a loss for words. Evie dying has affected everyone in our house, not just me, not just David. I'd give anything to have her back and it seems Si feels the same.
Thursday, January 21, 2016
Friday, January 15, 2016
6 Months and Counting
I've stared at this screen more than once over the past six months. I get to a point where I feel like I know what I'll write about and I come here and I freeze. I've never been great with words but how do you write about your heart shattering? Your life forever changing? I cry. I grieve. I do things I shouldn't do to help the pain but the truth is, it's always there no matter what. But that pain is also what keeps me alive. If there were no pain, no tears, no feeling of absolute emptiness, that would mean the event that took place didn't bother me. It bothered me. It turned my world completely upside down and inside out and every twist and turn that could happen.
This past Wednesday was the first Wednesday that fell on the 13th, the date of her birth. I chose for her to be born on the 13th because my grandmother and I both were born on the 13th. If you don't know me, my grandmother means the world to me. She has been my rock when no one else cared or seemed to care about me. She's always been there for me, no matter what. No judgment or belittling. But this isn't about her. It's about my daughter, Evie, Evangeline McKenna List. My grandmothers name is Evangeline. Evie would be 10 months old now if she were still here with us. I imagine what she would feel like, smell like. How much hair she would have. If she would still be sleeping through the night. If she would have teeth. Curls? If she would be as attached to me as Simon was. I'm always wondering these things. I doubt that will ever stop.
Today is six months since the day she died. If you haven't said that out loud, you should say it. It doesn't seem real unless you've said it out loud. Go ahead, say it; Evie died. I don't expect it to make your heart shatter as much as it makes mine shatter all over again but I do hope you feel a slight ache in your chest where I have a huge gaping hole. A hole that can never be replaced by another relationship, another child, another life. She went to sleep in this life and woke up in Heaven. A beyond magical place I'm dying to get to now. The hardest part of this is wondering if I'm good enough to get into Heaven. Wondering if I do something could I sacrifice the chance to not be with her again one day. Do you know how intensely scary that is? To wonder if you'll make it into Heaven to be able to see your child again? If you aren't a Christian just move past this part, I won't explain to you my religion or my beliefs. I will tell you one thing though, God is how I've survived six excruciating months without my adorable, sweet, precious baby girl. God has placed so many awesome people into mine and Davids lives that have helped us through this most difficult time. If you don't know God, my prayer is something miraculous happens in your life that helps you find Him. He is the most forgiving, gracious being, without being.
My life hasn't ended. I should take every opportunity to live while I can. But I don't want to. I want to stay in bed every day. I want to dig a hole and stay in there. I want to pack all my things and disappear with Simon. I want to be alone. I don't want to be alone. I want to scream at the top of my lungs and don't have the energy. This life I live now, it's just different. I'm restless for my old life where I had both my babies, my husband, my house, my job. All of that is different. Nothing is the same. Sure, I still have my house, my job, my husband, my Si. And yet it isn't enough. A piece of our puzzle is missing. Evie. Evie is missing. She is gone, but that doesn't mean I've accepted it. I want her back. Every.damn.day. I want her in my arms. I want her back in her bed beside my bed. I want to smell her. I want to see her smile when she sees me, when she sees Simon, David. Her smell is harder to find now around the house. Her bedroom is gone. Her clothes have been made into a quilt. Her blanket is buried with her. All I have are a few things lingering around the house. Pictures, Memories, Her bed, her swing, two pacifiers, and no Evie.
I've not had the easiest life yet I've always found a way to claw my way back up and keep going. I don't know how to claw my way out of this one. I'm broken. Shattered. Misplaced. Restless. Sad. Grateful at times. And then more words I can't even think of. Time will not ever heal this but I'm told over time I'll learn to handle this better. I'll learn to walk again, with a limp of course. But please don't ever think for a second Evie isn't always on my mind. This pain, it may ease up over time but that hole will always be there. When you encounter a blow like that, you never fully recover. Ever.
Evie, if you're listening, I miss you every second. I'm overwhelmed with greatness that God chose me to be your mommy. I cannot wait to see you again on the most glorious day there will be.
This past Wednesday was the first Wednesday that fell on the 13th, the date of her birth. I chose for her to be born on the 13th because my grandmother and I both were born on the 13th. If you don't know me, my grandmother means the world to me. She has been my rock when no one else cared or seemed to care about me. She's always been there for me, no matter what. No judgment or belittling. But this isn't about her. It's about my daughter, Evie, Evangeline McKenna List. My grandmothers name is Evangeline. Evie would be 10 months old now if she were still here with us. I imagine what she would feel like, smell like. How much hair she would have. If she would still be sleeping through the night. If she would have teeth. Curls? If she would be as attached to me as Simon was. I'm always wondering these things. I doubt that will ever stop.
Today is six months since the day she died. If you haven't said that out loud, you should say it. It doesn't seem real unless you've said it out loud. Go ahead, say it; Evie died. I don't expect it to make your heart shatter as much as it makes mine shatter all over again but I do hope you feel a slight ache in your chest where I have a huge gaping hole. A hole that can never be replaced by another relationship, another child, another life. She went to sleep in this life and woke up in Heaven. A beyond magical place I'm dying to get to now. The hardest part of this is wondering if I'm good enough to get into Heaven. Wondering if I do something could I sacrifice the chance to not be with her again one day. Do you know how intensely scary that is? To wonder if you'll make it into Heaven to be able to see your child again? If you aren't a Christian just move past this part, I won't explain to you my religion or my beliefs. I will tell you one thing though, God is how I've survived six excruciating months without my adorable, sweet, precious baby girl. God has placed so many awesome people into mine and Davids lives that have helped us through this most difficult time. If you don't know God, my prayer is something miraculous happens in your life that helps you find Him. He is the most forgiving, gracious being, without being.
My life hasn't ended. I should take every opportunity to live while I can. But I don't want to. I want to stay in bed every day. I want to dig a hole and stay in there. I want to pack all my things and disappear with Simon. I want to be alone. I don't want to be alone. I want to scream at the top of my lungs and don't have the energy. This life I live now, it's just different. I'm restless for my old life where I had both my babies, my husband, my house, my job. All of that is different. Nothing is the same. Sure, I still have my house, my job, my husband, my Si. And yet it isn't enough. A piece of our puzzle is missing. Evie. Evie is missing. She is gone, but that doesn't mean I've accepted it. I want her back. Every.damn.day. I want her in my arms. I want her back in her bed beside my bed. I want to smell her. I want to see her smile when she sees me, when she sees Simon, David. Her smell is harder to find now around the house. Her bedroom is gone. Her clothes have been made into a quilt. Her blanket is buried with her. All I have are a few things lingering around the house. Pictures, Memories, Her bed, her swing, two pacifiers, and no Evie.
I've not had the easiest life yet I've always found a way to claw my way back up and keep going. I don't know how to claw my way out of this one. I'm broken. Shattered. Misplaced. Restless. Sad. Grateful at times. And then more words I can't even think of. Time will not ever heal this but I'm told over time I'll learn to handle this better. I'll learn to walk again, with a limp of course. But please don't ever think for a second Evie isn't always on my mind. This pain, it may ease up over time but that hole will always be there. When you encounter a blow like that, you never fully recover. Ever.
Evie, if you're listening, I miss you every second. I'm overwhelmed with greatness that God chose me to be your mommy. I cannot wait to see you again on the most glorious day there will be.
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