Ten Months

I've been fighting to talk of Elizabeth for a long time. The fact that I haven't many friends over here yet, no family and don't really have the energy to go out of my way to make friends - not with the ordinary non-babylost at any rate. But yesterday I found myself comfortable enough to talk of my daughter in a small room of non-BLMs (only four other women) in my 'mindfulness' class at the hospital. We were talking about anxiety and that go me anxious to be honest, just thinking of my triggers and found that they all belong to the past and to my sweet Elizabeth and the events surrounding her death - well I doubt its even that. Yes, I get the flashbacks, but I know how to deal with those and have been doing so for a while now - it's the mention of my anxiety and the fact that it just isn't seen, spoken of or even detected in looking at me...

Oh, how I wish people in mourning still wore black. My anxiety is about situations that I could actually talk of Elizabeth, or maybe I'm just uncomfortable, sad, alone, misunderstood  - maybe not, sometimes the 'Tourette's' gets so loud in my head that I just want to scream at the top of my lungs that I have a daughter, I have should have two children. I do want to shock people out of their malaise, out of their seemingly superficial lives and make them see how the world fucks good people over. Ha, I would be the crazy old cat lady who screams at people, who lost her babies - but I don't.
So in explaining about how I deal with my flash backs, I elaborated how it's all linked to the past trauma and how Elizabeth's huge photo helps me turn it all around to see her beauty. The others were a little stunned as they all suffered from depression of some sort, not realising my story could be any different from theirs. I actually found such relief in talking openly and not having to start from the beginning, I felt okay, proud and a mother - my ten month old is still in my life, she effects my everyday, her memory guides my day in little ways - just because no one else sees her, doesn't mean she doesn't exist.

Elizabeth was born ten months ago now. I miss her, but have gotten used to her ever-presence - she is here with me and I'm learning to make that the best I can. While I don't know what her personality would be, or her development at that age, I know how inseparable we'd be. I'd know her likes and dislikes, I'd know what makes her smile and what makes her really giggle - oh to know that sound! I'd know the colour her eyes had settled on (would it have been her father's deep green I wonder?), I'd know if she liked the water as much as I do. I'd know if she'd prefer the carrier, or the pram, walking out in the fresh, cool air, or staying inside all cozy. Just thinking how much our days would be spent playing, feeding, changing nappies... The house would be far from spotless, the washing piled high and the ironing board gathering dust. TV shows wouldn't matter, our social life would consist of mothers groups, baby swim groups, going for walks together in our local area and meeting more mothers and children.
I'd be showing Elizabeth how much I love her, I'd be proudly telling all who'd listen about how she was starting to do this and that, how smart, beautiful and how cheerful and happy she is - what a proud mother I would have been. I still am her proud mother, although no one but A. sees this, and that makes me sad.

On thinking some more about how things could have been (I'm really trying hard not to think of the should's and would's in this all - I can't wish away nor deny this little girl inside), I'm struck by the thought that I'll be a different mother from the one I would have been with Elizabeth. My priorities 'before' were skewed; materialistic, dominating and I thought I had control over my life and the happiness of those around me. Of course I know how disillusioned I was now, so with this new child I will hold her up for all to love. I'll not hide her away in my protective embrace, I want her to experience everything and not have any regrets and back her up 110%. This precious new girl isn't mine after all; she is here for me to love, protect, teach, nurture and ultimately give the best start, before she goes out into the world to find her passions and way ahead. This is a big change I have found within myself about my parenting outlook and only hope that it is a good thing.

So my darling Elizabeth on your ten month birthday, I have fresh realisations, different ways of thinking and I can only thank you for that broadening of my outlook. I miss you so very much; I'll always wish things didn't have to be this way, but am doing my best to get every ounce of goodness I can out of life after your death. 

You are very much a part of me, a part of my day and thinking. 

I love you sweet baby girl, always will Elizabeth