surreal

I had a good weekend, we went to Branson and pretended to be normal people for awhile, which was nice.  I will write about that later.  Tomorrow is my due date, and I will want to write about that too.

What I need to write about right this second is that I finally heard back from our Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep photographer.  She had been out of town, then had to do some other dead baby sessions, and she just finished our photos now, 6 weeks later.  I have been really anxious to see the pictures, but at the same time maybe it was helpful to have some time where things are not as raw.  Anyways she is mailing me the pictures tomorrow, but she sent me a low-quality version of the slide show.  I just watched it, twice, pausing on every picture.  I sobbed harder than I have since I felt Kayla's body leaving mine.  It was/is so surreal to see myself in pictures, in the hospital bed, with my baby in my arms. I even said "That's me"  outloud even though I am here alone, with my dog.   There it is, in black and white, my grief forever frozen in time.  Is that really me?  Did I really have to give birth to my baby who had already died?  There are split seconds in ever day where my brain takes a break and I allow myself to "forget" what happened to me, it definitely has to be a coping mechanism.  But seeing a picture of myself, holding my baby....is just surreal.  And we look so beautiful together, it is hard to know that those will be our only pictures of us as a family. 

And my baby.  She is just as beautiful as I remember her, even with the  grainy picture.  I hope there are more pictures of just her on the CD, because there were only a couple where I could clearly see her face, the rest were of her hands, and of all of us holding her.  I still regret not taking my own pictures.  And I think however many pictures are on the CD, it will not be enough.  It will never be enough.  I will always long for more of her, more memories, one more second to stare at her face, and of course I would have given anything to see her take a breath, to open her eyes.

But these photos are a gift.  I hope to have the courage to share them with my family and some friends and possibly my new online friends too. 

This is the song we chose for the slideshow, "Falling Slowly"  from the movie Once.