Sunday, February 24, 2013

One of those days

Sometimes I feel like the Universe is just steering me in the direction of a bad day. Today was definitely one of those days. It started out fine - Rhoners slept great last night and slept in this morning, I am finally over my plateau and am losing weight again (8 lbs to go before I am back to my pre-Naya weight. 13 lbs to goal!), got my hair cut yesterday and it still looks great for work today. All good things. And then I left the house.

Driving to work, I was listening to the radio and Eric Clapton's Tears in Heaven came on. It's probably the first time I listened to it since I lost Naya. And this time, I LISTENED to it. Damn, you can feel his grief in his lyrics. For those not in the know, the song is about Clapton's son, who passed away when he was four years old by falling out of 53 story window. I always knew the story and have always regarded the song as terribly sad but this time, I felt the sadness and I sobbed through its entirety, all the while thinking of Naya and wondering all the things Clapton is asking in that song. I was able to collect myself before getting to work but it definitely shifted my mood.

Later on, I took a break and met up with a friend for a quick brunch. While we were sitting in the restaurant, a little girl came up to our table. I looked down and it was a little girl from Rhone's daycare. She must have recognized Rhone because he was with me (long story but I am lucky enough to be able to take him to work and did so today). The little girl's mom came up to me and I introduced myself and told her that our kids were in daycare together. As she walked away, I looked at her and her husband and realized that they were in our birthing class for Naya. That little girl was born a few days before Naya was born. They should all be in daycare together. I was so shocked, I started crying in the middle of the restaurant - something that I haven't done in months because I now have the ability to control my emotions a bit better. This just rattled me to my core for some reason. I feel broken. It's those moments that make me want to scream and cry. Why did this have to happen? Why is this my life? Why does everyone else get to have their children and my little girl is dead? What the fuck did I do to deserve this. This is something that is never, ever going to go away. This is my reality. I have a dead child and she is always going to be dead. I can't do anything to change it. Is this pain ever going to end? Am I ever going to be a real person again? Am I always going to be shitty and sad and have triggers that pop up and make me cry no matter where I am? Am I ever going to be able to deal with the fact that this is my reality and just accept it? The real shitty thing is that now, I feel guilty for wanting this pain to end. Because no matter how much this hurts at least I am reminded of Naya and she is still a part of my life. And I want her to be a part of my life. I don't ever want to let her go. I want her. I want her back. I hate this.


  1. It sucks. It hurts, it isn't fair, and it's just horrible. And none of us did anything to deserve this.

  2. Jamie,
    There is no way you will ever forget her. Its a natural reaction to be traumatized seeing a child the same age as your precious girl. My parents lost two baby boys after full term births prior to me being born. That was over 50 years ago and they still go visit them. I have always known they were in this world, and I feel they are still here protecting me. I know I will see them one day. You are so brave to share this story. Please know that you are helping to protect many future babies of mothers who have known you,and heard Naya's story.

  3. That must've been so painful to see that little girl. I wish there were answers to those questions that you answer---I ask myself those questions all the time---but the hard part is that there isn't. And even if there were, I'm not sure I'd really want to know them. What possible reason could be good enough to put someone through this? I wish your Naya were in your arms and I wish we didn't know each other because we'd never have met because we'd never have lost our children. Or that you and I only knew each other because somehow we'd met and realized our little girls have similar names and are both half Filipino and maybe they'd like to play together. I'm so sorry Jamie. Sending hugs and love, because I know at these times that's all I can do.