Letters to Eva

Dear Eva,

I miss you. I’m so broken. I haven’t written to you in so long and my emotions show it. I’m feeling guilty because I’ve left this blog empty for so long. Mama and Daddy have been going so steady and it feels like I haven’t had a minute to even think about writing. I’m sorry for that. I know that it doesn’t matter. I still talk to you and I know that you know that. I know that this blog is for me when I need it and nobody else. I’m here now. I miss you my girl.

We have not stopped. It seems like since early May we haven’t had a free weekend. Things have been good. We’ve been good. Our lives have been full. We’ve been to New Brunswick, in 5km runs with family, camping, birthday parties, with friends, with family. It’s be full, fun, fulfilling. It also makes me realize how much we are missing with you gone. How much you didn’t get to do. How much I didn’t get to watch you do. You never got to sleep in a tent, you never got to take swimming lessons, or fly on an airplane for a vacation, or cook a hotdog on an open fire. I feel robbed. So much was taken from me. From you. From your daddy.

Summertime is so hard. Watching all the families spend hours camping, travelling, playing on the beach. It’s in my face constantly, everything that I don’t have. It’s hard. It’s incredibly painful. I don’t think I noticed how painful it was last year. I was still in such a fog that the giggles on the beach didn’t cut as deeply as they do this year. I’m struggling. I’m really really struggling.

I’m exhausted, I’ve been sick the last few days and the medication is making me so tired. I’m not at my strongest and this is when the grief hits me so hard. It’s a vicious cycle. I’ve been doing so good for so long and then boom! It’s guaranteed to last a good couple weeks of just pouty miserable Mama. You would hate it. For that reason I fight it so hard. I push through until I break and I physically can’t move. It’s detrimental. It works though. I have some bad days and then I give it my all again. It’s a coping mechanism. I sit with the pain and then move past it for a while.

I’m missing you sweet baby. So darn much. I’m okay but I’m still a little broken. Hopefully the broken days pass quickly. I need rest and healing and that will come. I’m going to see your sweet Grandma and Grandpa this weekend. They will heal me. They will hold me and they will take care of me. They will give your daddy a good break because your daddy takes such great care of me day after day. I’m thankful for all of the support I’ve been given when I’m crumbling.

I love you forever Turkey Bird. You are my favorite forever.

Love and Kisses,

Your Mama.