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.