Almost a week - my longest post to date

It's almost exactly one week since Faith's gone. Time's been flying by so quickly I hardly realised it. I'm taking my time in my healing, but at the same time, forcing myself to regain some normalcy in my life to get things going.

A week ago today, at this hour, my contractions were starting to intensify, and Faith was (probably) struggling inside my womb. This evening is the first evening we're all home since I've been discharged. We've been staying at my in laws' for my convalescence. It feels a little weird to be home...

This evening, while waiting for my son to fall asleep, I settled back into my routine of solving word puzzles while he played in his cot (usually until he falls asleep). Stepping back into this routine, has again brought up memories of Faith. It was usually during this activity that I felt her kicking around the most. It made me sad that I would not feel her little skips and tumbles at this hour anymore.

Just this afternoon while I was having my post-natal massage done, I closed my eyes and strangely the first memory I was transported to, was the short but wonderful 4 days of bonding with Faith. It was in those short 4 days that I felt really close to her, and felt all my love poured out to her. I smiled at the memories I hold the dearest.

One was of me singing to her a particular lullaby from her brother's cd, and after that I told her I love her and that I was sorry I couldn't give her more. I asked her if she felt my love for her, and asked her to show me a sign if she did. And the wonderful thing was she kicked. She had never ever moved much during the afternoons before. To me, it felt like she was in my arms and smiling in response to me.

The other memory I hold dear, is of Faith stretching and waking, and sharing my breakfast with me. I remember taking my first few bites of breakfast, and shortly after, my dear girl moved and stretched. I believe she woke and ate together with me.

The last memory I hold really dear, is of Faith sharing a bar of chocolate with me. That was the day before we were admitted. I was at home, sitting quietly on the couch, and slowly chewing on my chocolate, and I thought 'Hey Faith, have some chocolate too! You'll love the taste of it!', and immediately she moved.

In those 3 short but wonderful days, I poured out all my love to my daughter. And miraculously, she responded to my love with her little gymnastics. I'm smiling now as I recall these 3 days of wonderful memories.

ET tells me I have to move on instead of crying non stop. I admit I cried a lot the last 2 days, once in front of my son. Today I woke up feeling a lot better, a lot cheerier. I still enjoy reading the posts and discussions by mums who've gone through or are going through this. It helps in my healing that I'm able to share with people who know, or even to give support to people who need it. It's a huge pity that friendships are formed for this reason, but I'm glad I managed to emotionally rally those who are also in pain or have made that heartbreaking choice.

I can't sleep...I hope ET comes home soon. I crave for his presence around me these days. I'm clinging on to him for dear life (or rather my dear sanity). I was a little upset with him going out, but I knew he needed this to regain his normalcy and his life, so I let him go. That's my biggest problem/flaw...I keep too many things inside of me and I hold on to too many things that hurt me. I know I need to let go and let god, but at times it seems too painful to let go. They are like steel anchors, weighing me down to the ground. It seems at times I'd rather let these things drag me underwater than to let go and have someone share my burden. I'm not making myself out to be a saint, I was just brought up this way.

I know where he's coming from when he says he's worried about my mental health, and whether I'm obsessing over Faith's condition. Am I obsessing? I have no idea, but talking to people who know helps me feel better. Maybe I am obsessing a little. I should let go, but it's too hard. (i'm contradicting myself i know)

This has to be my longest entry yet.

The nights are usually mine and mine alone. Not physically, but mentally. It's the nights that my mind wanders the most. I'm enjoying lying on my own bed and enjoying the feel of my satin quilt, but these are not sufficient to make me fall asleep. My eyes are tired, but I can't seem to close them to sleep.

I miss Faith, but not in a sad way. I think my crying is all done. The occasional tears are probably inevitable, but I'm almost certain I'm done with my crying. After reading the posts of so many mothers who had CTT, I'm glad I made the choice of inducing. I would mentally have broken down if I had to CTT and watch Faith struggling to take her first breath and struggling to take her last. Not that all anen babies struggle with their last or have convulsive deaths, there are some that do go peacefully, but I wouldn't take the chance with Faith. She's much better off, although I'm not thinking about the moments when she was struggling during my contractions until her heart stopped. She is better off now. She's perfect, she's beautiful, she's in good hands (of the Lord), and most importantly, she's my daughter.

"For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future." Jeremiah 29:11