Still trying to 'get it'

Thanks to a wonderful therapist that I have been seeing every 2 weeks for the past 1 1/2 months, I feel like I am connecting to myself a little more.

I have discovered why it is that I can never seem to really grieve anything without just pushing it away.  To my surprise it goes way back further than what I thought...back to when I was about 10 years old...I have learned that I need  to go back and grieve all of the losses and disappointments that I have had in my life in order to deal with Rowan and Alivia.

It is a LOT of work.  It is painful and exhausting, but I HAVE to do it!  I have to do it for ME.  If I do it for no one else, I have to do it for ME!  I NEVER want to forget our precious children, I only wish for the pain to lessen.  I know that if I dont go back and find peace with everything in my past that I can never achieve that...I wont be able to achieve memory without pain until I deal with the past...

Not a day passes that I dont think of our 2 beautiful babies that have passed...I miss them more than words can ever describe.

What comes to mind is the visualization of someone literally shredding my heart.   It is a tearing, thrashing feeling.  I still have a huge amount of guilt and feelings of being a failure.  I know I couldnt have changed things, no matter how hard I tried, but the feeling that I let both of them down haunts me.  I am their mother.  I was supposed to protect them, and I failed.  I am sure this makes no sense really, but its how I feel.

I think of Alivia kicking and moving in my womb daily.  I miss it.

I took out her blanket a few days ago and tried to work on it so that it would be finished.  I could barely see through my tears.  I think I finished 5 stitches before I put my needle down and just held on to it and felt the textures, the softness, the emptiness. I think that finishing that blanket means letting her go, as weird as that sounds.  I just dont think I am near ready...I want to hold on to every thing that keeps her here...every tangible item i can touch.  The duplicate that I made of the blanket she was cremated with is a huge one for me.  I find myself rubbing the fibers between my fingers thinking, that at least she knew we loved her.  I would do anything to have her back.

When she left, she took a piece of me with her.