A year. I can't believe it's already been a year. Sometimes, it seems like it happened yesterday and sometimes it feels like it was an eternity ago. The worst part is that sometimes it even feels like it never happened. Like she was a dream that ended in our worst nightmare. No matter what it feels like, the fact is that it's been a year. Naya died one year ago today and our lives changed forever.
I wish the memories of this day would subside. I hope that on the years to come I will forget the feeling of walking into her room and seeing her saturations hovering in the 70s and the look on her nurse's face when she saw us and we knew it was time to let her go. I wish that I could forget the emotions that ensued as we made that agonizing decision. The physical and emotional pain as we waited for family to make the three hour drive to the hospital to say goodbye. It still makes me sick that we were sitting there waiting to let our daughter die.
I wish I couldn't still hear myself wailing as she was handed to us alive for the last time. I wish I could close my eyes and not see her gasp for a last breath as her eyelids fluttered. I wish I couldn't hear the doctor call her time of death as her body stiffened in our arms.
I wish she was still here.
It's been a year since my daughter died and my heart is still in pieces. I still wish that I could wake up and that it never happened but I no longer believe that's possible. It's been a year and I still cry every single day although I can now control when and where I do so. It's been a year and even though I have my rainbow, I still avoid babies and pregnant women because it still hurts. It's been a year.
It's been a year and I thought that it would bring some clarity but I'm still angry. I'm angry at the hospital for not following standards of care and releasing her. I'm angry at the stupid bitch of a pediatrician for completely dismissing our valid concerns, ignoring her symptoms and being very, very complacent with her care. Mostly, I'm still angry at myself for not being more insistent that she receive the best, like I did with her brother. I am angry that I didn't have the foresight to realize that I should have delivered at a hospital with a NICU because they would have recognized what was going on. I am angry because I failed her. I am still so angry and it's been a year.
It's been a year and I still I wish I could hold her again. I wish I could have seem her smile and heard her laugh. Hell, I wish I could hear her cry. I wish I could have enjoyed every milestone of this past year and seen her sit-up and crawl and walk and talk. I wish she could meet her baby brother. I wish we could hold both of them in our arms. It's been a year and I want that year back with her in it.
It's been a year. It's been a fucking year.