It's strange being home. The moment we walked in the door on Thursday was terrible. It almost made me wish that I had never been able to bring her home. All of those memories are here and came flooding back to me. We had to take her to the emergency room so fast that day and had expected to come home right away so everything was still laying out how we left it. Luckily, family and friends had cleaned up around our house and put all of Naya's things into her room and shut the door. I haven't brought myself to go in there yet. I walk by her room and can't help but cry. It's too painful. Ty asked me last night if it was okay if he went in there and read her stories from her bookshelf. I told him that if that makes him feel better, he's more than welcome to but I can't go in there. I will go in there someday. I want to sit in her chair and rock and cry. Not yet but I will get there.
I've spent most of my days so far lying on my bed. That is also painful, as Naya spent most of her short time with us in our room, on our bed or in her bassinet. Sometimes I feel her there. It makes me cry, picturing her, lying on my chest sleeping. I know now that the ecoli was probably cursing through her bloodstream during this time. I just hope she wasn't in too much pain. I keep going over everything in my mind and wishing I had handled things differently. I wish I had acted on my gut instinct that something was wrong. I wish I had insisted to her stupid pediatrician that no, she wasn't just being "lazy" because I had gotten an epidural and forced them to run further tests. Don't judge me for this but we got a bill from the pediatrician's office today. I opened it, ripped off the bill form and wrote "please stuff this up your ass. Thanks! :)" and put it in the mail. I know it was childish but, sadly, it helped. Maybe it will make them think about it the next time. It was a good direction of my anger and grief for the time being. So are bloody marys.
Our dog also seems to be helpful to us. I think he can sense our sadness and grief. That was one beautiful part of walking into our house. My dog had already been picked up and was sitting in his spot by the front window. He saw me, did a double take, and jumped up with an excited look on his face. When I walked in, he ran to me and started giving me kisses with his little curly tail wagging away. He's always been clingy (he's a pug - we have always called him "the velcro dog") but he's even more so now. It's amazing how animals can make you feel better. Their complete, unconditional love is remarkable.
I've been sitting outside a lot for the past two days. Dan set up our outside area awhile ago with my hammock from Nicaragua and plants and wind chimes and I find it very peaceful. There is a wind chime that we got as a wedding present hanging next to the window of Naya's room. As I was sitting there, the wind was softly blowing and making the most beautiful melodic song. It may be corny but I believe it was her - playing me music while I cried. I miss you so much Naya. I wish you were here with me. I love you.