Letters to Eva

Dear Eva,

Hey Turkey Bird. Mama’s sure missing you tonight. Every night, really, but tonight the pull is much stronger. Waves of grief and all of that, I guess. It’s been a long, hard week and as I sit here trying to unwind my brain is just going crazy. I miss you so much and I have so many thoughts that I can’t keep them straight. I just wish I could hold you and smell your hair and let my worries just drift away. You always were my safe place. A snuggle with you made everything okay. I hate that you are gone. The whole world feels hard and cold. I feel like it’s my responsibility to keep a smile on my face and make my grief comfortable for everyone else. I know that’s not true but it sure feels that way most of the time. It’s exhausting.

I need to come here more often. I start typing and the words just fall out. I feel safe here, not as good as my face in your hair, but close. It’s weird because I know how public this platform is but I feel safe to put it all out there anyway. I’m having some thoughts tonight that are pretty heavy. I need to take a breath and release them all. Block everything else out and just type. Lay it all out and then put my phone away for the night. Here goes nothing.

Sunday is Mother’s Day. This doesn’t get easier. It’s my fourth one without you and it’s not any easier than the first. I think this might be the day I dread the most. I mean I’ve probably said that about other days but this one and Thanksgiving are almost a dead heat I think. As with all days the lead up is always harder than the actual day. This year seems harder than I remember, again something I probably say every year. I was scrolling tik tok the other day and was forced into a pretty harsh realization that I’m definitely sure I wasn’t ready for. I will never get another home made Mother’s Day gift from you. No hand print flowers, no hand written cards, no breakfast in bed. Your Daddy tries hard, but he’ll just never measure up to you. Rightfully so, I’m not his mom haha. The mama in the video I saw wasn’t complaining about the homemade cards, per say, but it was still incredibly hard to watch. Send them to me, I’ll take all the hand made gifts. All of them. I won’t get another hand print, another painting, another picture on my fridge. You know the worst part about these words falling on the page? Somebody is going to read this and have their kids make me something. Then guess what? I’m going to feel so friggen guilty. Why do I do that to myself? This is what I mean about making things comfortable for others.

I want to say things, write things, without people feeling like they need to step in and give or fix or try to say what they think I want to hear. I want to express myself and feel my feelings and feel free from judgment. I know it all comes from a good place. People just want to help. Sometimes though, I don’t need help, I just need to be heard. I don’t need you to imagine, I don’t need you to fix. I just need you to be here and to listen. I want to say things without fear that people will be sad for me. I don’t want the things I say to hurt you, I just need to get them out. Just hear my pain and be greatful you don’t know it.

I think this Mother’s Day weekend feels so heavy because I feel we are at a crossroads in our journey. We’ve been through a lot again in the last year in our journey to give you a sibling. I’m hurting and feeling empty. I’m feeling like I may never get handmade Mother’s Day gifts from my own children ever again. It’s heavy and I’m struggling to carry it. In November Daddy and I found out we were expecting again. After two and half years we were finally pregnant. We were so incredibly excited. From the minute I got that positive I was so incredibly hopeful and excited. It was early and I was cautious but I couldn’t fight those feelings of happiness. I had so much hope. Soon after that test I started to bleed. We found out on December 4th that this pregnancy was ectopic and not viable. We were “lucky” because it was early and I didn’t require surgery. I didn’t have any other complications. I knew something wasn’t right and by the time the doctor told me the news I was pretty numb. I didn’t have much emotion left. Daddy and I went home that night and just held eachother. We then had to wait 3 months before we could try again. That part was the most devastating. In March we did an IUI that was unsuccessful. After the Rollercoaster of hormones and emotions that caused and a lots of tears in the tub when mother nature came we decided we need a break. I don’t know where we are going from here but it’s time to relax and stop putting so much pressure on ourselves. It’s time. It’s scary as hell but it’s time.

I’m tired and missing you. I’ve just dumped so many things out into the universe and now I’ll probably crash. I hope this word dump released what it needed to and I can enjoy a quiet weekend with Daddy. We both need some reconnection I think. I’m okay, and I know Daddy is too. It’s in your hands baby girl, tell us where to go next, pretty please. We love you so much. So so much. Kiss Grandma Blanche for me, please. I’ve been missing her too, and I know you two are pretty close up there. I love you, Evil. You are my favorite.

Love and Kisses,

Your Mama

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