Kindergarten Registration

I am having a hard time figuring out a way to my all the thoughts in my head and emotions onto words. Words people can understand. Words that makes sense to me. 

I continue to struggle with the acceptance, wishing for something different and the anger stages of grief.

I feel like these are the 3 I have struggled with the most and the ones that I may always struggle with.

Just when I think I am in the acceptance stage and doing "well" something new happens or even someone old is triggered and I go back to that wishing for something different. and then the anger. The wishing and anger come hand in hand. I think they are a team for me because I cant wish for something different without knowing that if life were different we wouldn't have Tracker. So then I get angry. because there is no way I can imagine my life without him. 

I get angry because I want to wish for life to be something else. I want to imagine life with an almost 5 year old girl. I want to imagine kindergarten registration right now and feeling a lump in my stomach knowing my sweet girl will be starting school. I want to imagine a house of dolls and barbies and pink and glitter and hearts and princess dresses. I want to imagine calling her name. I want to imagine painting her toes and tickling her arms. I want to imagine doing her hair and getting frustrated when she wont sit still. I want to imagine all of this goodness.

but with everyone of these thoughts I think about this little boy that is running rampid in my house. Causing chaos, loud noise, creating horrible messes and climbing up the walls. and I get angry at myself for even imagining a different way because with any other way... He wouldn't be here. and that just isn't something I can accept. Ever. but how to I accept her being gone?

How do I continue day in and day out to pretend this is all okay? That I am okay? That I don't want to throw up everyday knowing its another day without her and another day I have to make an effort to say her name. She isn't here to call for lunch or to tell to stop picking on her brother. Her name isn't said several hundred times a day like Trackers is. Her name is only said a few times. If that. There are some days I go to bed and realize I haven't even said her name out loud today.

Life is happening. I am living. That is a lot more than I could have said 2 years ago. My life was consumed with missing her. Our house was very empty. We are lucky and so very thankful to have such a huge void in our world filled by Tracker. but he took the place of distractions and noise and staying busy. He didn't take the place of her. That little girl. That girl that was here first. That couldn't keep her hands out of her mouth. That girl that fit so perfect in my neck. That girl that loved balloons. That girl that made a squeak when she breathed. That girl that talked non stop all day. That girl that was mellow and content. That girl that had long skinny feet. That girl that love inappropriate songs. That girl that smelled like lavender and vanilla. That girl that smiled all the time. That girl I miss. That little being that I held. and loved. and bathed. and kissed and fought to keep. That little girl that I had for 148 days. I miss her. and I think its a joke that God thought I could live the rest of my life with only 148 days of her. 

That I was some how suppose to make enough memories and soak in as much of her as I could to last me the rest of my life. It wasn't long enough.

I have been so tired of hearing from others how happy she is. How she is so proud of her brother. How she is having the best time in heaven. How she is in a better place... I am so tired of hearing how we will be together again. I am tired of trying to make all of this "okay".

Its not. Its not okay that I only got 148 days with my child. That I then held her while she died. and that I buried her. and that her body is now hundreds of miles away. 

It might be a good thing I am not near her right now. There have been more than a few times lately that I want to get in the car drive the 9 hour drive and dig her up. Hold what is left of her decomposed body and bring it home with me. To have her. A little tiny peace of what is left.

I understand she is in heaven. I have to believe that. Or I would jump in front of a bus. I have to believe there is more than this. Than living and dieing. There has to be more. but what that more is... Is another struggle. I have talked to people. People from various religions. With various beliefs. and maybe its just me... but what they tell me heaven is like... or where she is... I don't believe it. and I don't like it. 

Its not good enough.

The lack of dreams since she died.... Still nothing. I have still not had a dream of her since that one right after she died. The "feelings" of her are hard for me to make sense of. Is it real or is it my mind doing everything possible to survive another moment so I make up this "feeling". Why is that feeling not there when I need it most? What am I missing?

I am thankful for family. Friends. and even the friends I have never met that always offer a word of peace. Advice. and send love. Your comments on where she is or who she is with are appreciated. and they do help. but right now I am having a hard time with them.

I don't write much about this anymore because I cant figure out what to say. I cant figure out how to put it into words. I push it out of my mind and try to focus on the good.

I have gotten pretty good at it. Keeping busy on the boys in my world. They are amazing. 

but then out of no where I have mornings where I happen to look at her picture. The same picture I see everyday. The one hanging above my couch. and that picture brings me to my knees. I then spend that day doing everything in my power to just breathe. To keep Tracker fed and Mickey on TV. Those are not "proud Mom" days. I usually sit in front of the computer and watch her videos over and over. I close my eyes and just listen to her. Her breathing. Her giggles. Her crying. I try to go back there. Its so far away now. So far from my constant now. 

Its hard to go back there. To remember. To be in that moment. but I try. 

I usually end up having a new moment now. A moment with my daughter. Videos of my daughter. On a computer. They are not great. and again I get angry.

My eyes are burning.

My boy needs me.

Ill get this figured out.

I have made it over 4 years now.

I know ill make it to tomorrow.