Since the day Aubrey and Ellie were born I have felt forced into a bad dream against my will. This can't possibly be my life. Grief is like a slave master. I am merely at its beck and call, subject to its whims, not sure when it will be merciful or merciless. It is a daily drudgery that I can't get away from no matter how hard I try. I am defenseless against it. And I resent it. I am so angry I could scream.
I DON'T WANT THIS LIFE! I WANT MY GIRLS BACK!
The bright and welcomed future of my girls was stolen from me and replaced with the dark, sorrowful nightmare of their death. This is not how things were supposed to be. I have been in silent protest all the while, emotionally picketing this new reality, the one I don't want, the one forced on me without my consent. I NEVER AGREED TO THIS! Everything should be so different than it is. But it isn't. And it makes me so angry.
I woke up this morning and laid in bed for a few minutes. I listened to the silence. I should hear two crying babies. But I don't. I should be overwhelmed and exhausted adjusting to the demands of two new infants. But I'm not. Instead I am resentfully adjusting to the agonizing silence of an empty nursery. The silence is a relentless reminder of what is gone. I am exhausted from wrestling with my Aubrey and Ellie-less life. It truly is a daily internal battle for me.
I know they are gone but I just can't believe it. I can't believe that this sickening ache in my heart is real and not just a bad dream I am going to wake up from any moment. WHERE ARE MY BABIES? I WANT MY BABIES!
When Aubrey and Ellie were alive I would have visions of running into the NICU and snatching them out of their incubators and taking them somewhere else. I don't even know where, just somewhere with me, where no one could tell me I was not allowed to hold them, so that we could be together and not separated by glass, machines and tubes. Even now I occasionally imagine digging them up from their grave and holding them one more time. I imagine that I find them in there alive and healthy, holding hands with each other waiting for me to take them home. I just so desperately want this whole sad story to be untrue. But it isn't. My babies are dead. Both of them. It just shouldn't be this way. This should not be my life.