Ladybugs

So, if you know me, you know I have a thing for ladybugs. And this is the post where I explain why.
Lilly's nickname was Lilly-bug, so lady bugs kinda became her thing. Which is why they're my thing now. Every time I see one, I take a picture. I imagine it as if she's taking the time to say hello to me, or to give me a sign of encouragement. Now that it's winter, I won't be seeing them as often :/ which is kind of saddening, but ladybugs need a break, too. Maybe I'll find some other way to feel her love. 

The story of Eva

I figure it's about time I tell the story of how Eva came to be with our family. 

Mr. Barcenas was bugging me and bugging me and bugging me about getting a second dog. I was about five months pregnant at the time, and thought adding a second dog to our family was the stupidest idea ever. Seriously- why have two big dogs to walk when I was going to have a baby soon??? I can't walk two large dogs and a stroller- that's just crazy. 

Well, he convinced me to just go "look." Not a good idea. If you don't want to get a dog, don't go looking at the shelter! We found a greyhound lab mix who was soooo sweet and shy. We really liked her, so we went to the counter to see if we could adopt her, but we were told she was being transferred to a different shelter because someone wanted her over there. So sad! So we start heading home. When I think "oh! I saw a cute puppy on an animal sale page on Facebook!" You see, by this time I now wanted a puppy, too. They're just too cute to resist! This was the post I saw

It continued on to say that they would be dropping the puppy off at the animal shelter if they couldn't find a new home for it. I didn't want that to happen to her! Just look at her sweat face! So I called the number, and we went to the address- and here's a funny story- it was my old Sonic manager who was selling her! I find it funny, because I hadn't worked there for over a year. 

So we brought her home on October 19, 2014. And she's been with us since, despite my desires to get rid of her.

I know what you're thinking, "no! She can't have wanted to get rid of her! She posts about how much she loves that dog too much!" I know, I know, it's hard to believe. But I seriously thought that she needed to be rehomed. I talked to my family, and they thought she needed to be rehomed. She isn't really all that easy to train. WallE picked up tricks super fast, and he's nice- he knows not to step on people or to run them over. He's polite when it comes to begging and waiting. Eva is not. She's the opposite. She does not realize how big she is. She begs by putting her face or paw into your food, she ran into me once and dislocated my knee, she will jump up to your hand if your holding a treat, and she is overly kissy. It's like she has some sort of weird obsession where everything has to be in her mouth and touched by her tongue all the time. It's bad. It's still bad- better than before, but still bad. 

I had days where I would just cry and cry, because it was so hard handling the two dogs by myself while Mr. Barcenas was at work. He would come home, and I would cry to him about how I didn't want to give her away, but we needed to- I just couldn't do it. She was cute, and we had made the commitment to care for her the rest of her life, but I just couldn't do it. And he wouldn't let me get rid of her. And I am so happy he didn't.

I love this stupid dog so much. I honestly have no idea where I would be without her. She is the best cuddler. WallE doesn't cuddle much. The only times he ever has was when he got neutered, and when we came home from the hospital without Lilly.

He just laid his head on my stomach and looked sad (please ignore my swollen post-delivery feet)

But Eva, oh Eva. I didn't fall head over heals for her until a few weeks after Lilly had passed. Eva went to stay with a friend for a couple weeks while I was recovering physically- I wouldn't have been able to handle her energy at the time. But when she came back, she was a cuddle butt. She sits in my lap and loves on me. And it makes me feel so good. Like someone needs me, like there's this little (well, big) creature that depends on me and wants me to succeed. It's nice :) And it's so amazing how she can tell when I have a bad day. I get home from work, I sit on the couch, and she jumps up and lays down with me. God placed this dog in my life for a reason, and I believe I have found that reason.

The terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day

Yesterday was a bad day. And I'll have those. I realize that. But I seriously SOBBED for three hours straight. And I'm not exaggerating, just ask Mr. Barcenas. And it was gross- head colds and crying for long periods of time do not go together very well. 

There was a commercial. That's all it took to set me off, a stupid commercial. All about babies firsts. Their first baths, their firsts steps, their first words, and all about how you don't want to miss a minute of it because babies grow up.

My baby never had the chance to grow up. She never had the chance to crawl for the first time, to take her first steps- she didn't even have the opportunity to take her first breath. Seeing that commercial just brought it all back- all that we're missing and all that we will miss. You realize that she might be taking her first steps by now? She might have even started babbling "mama" and "dada." I know that she wouldn't know what she was saying/doing, but it'd still be cute. And it's all of those cute little moments that we are missing. Hell, I would give anything to change one of her diapers right about now. Throw up in my hair? Bring it on! Because those things would mean that my daughter was here, that she was living and that her body was processing and working the way it should.

And you know what got me tonight? I can't remember what she looked like... Yeah, I have pictures, but it's not the same. I can't remember the way she looked in my arms as I held her for the first and last times. I can remember her weight and feeling that her body was warm and then cold. I can remember thinking that she was so tiny and so fragile, and yet so big and solid. How had this seven pound human fit in my body? I can remember the silence of the delivery room, I can remember specifically thinking that I needed to stare and memorize because I wouldn't have this moment again in my mortal life, but I can't remember her face no matter how hard I try. And I feel terrible about it. I feel like the worst mother in existence. I don't even have drugs to blame for my inability to remember- I had the epidural taken out by that point, and I had yet to feel the development of my hematoma so I hadn't been started on a morphine drip. You'd think that a mom would be able to remember her child's face without having to look at a photo. 

I've been wanting to share this photo for some time, but haven't known how to. I guess now is a good way and time. Do you see my face? That is a face of disbelief. That is the face of a mother who refuses to believe that her much wanted and prayed for child is gone from the world. And yet, it is also shock, because she realizes that despite how much she wishes, this is not a dream. This is real life. People may think this photo isn't pretty. I kind of like it. It captures a moment of grief. It shows that her delivery wasn't just sad faces and sad smiles. There were so many emotions that we were feeling actual physical pain.

In the beginning, I looked like this for months. I've slowly been able to come out of it, though. I'm learning how to smile and laugh again- to really smile and laugh, to not just put on a mask. But these moments will hit, and they will continue to do so- the disbelief, imagining that these past (almost) nine months have all been a terrible horrible dream, the pain- oh the pain. Sometimes it hurts just as bad now as it did back then. 

But I'm doing better than I was, and that's what matters

Cold weather

The cold air brings back memories. I went to the grocery store a couple weeks ago and I had to put on my jacket. I hadn't worn this jacket since I was pregnant, and I was slightly surprised when it zipped up easily. I couldn't do that the last time I had worn it eight months ago. I sat myself in the car and had a flashback to when I was happily pregnant. In my minds eye, I could see myself wearing a white long sleeved maternity shirt, my maternity leggings and boots. I imagined myself looking down, and seeing my large rounded stomach getting closer and closer to the steering wheel. I remember being so excited to meet my baby, so excited for the day when Mr. Barcenas and I would be able to drive down Main Street to the hospital to meet our baby girl. 

I remember the day we finally drove down the road to the hospital. It wasn't in happiness or eagerness. It was in sorrow and heart break. We knew our baby girl was gone by then and there was nothing we could do about it. I remember thinking that I just wanted her out- and yet again, I just wanted to hold on. I didn't want to let her go. 

It started snowing today. In the past, I LOVED snow. I loved everything about winter, I loved how I could bundle up, in sweaters and scarves. I feel like winter looks good on me. Now, I don't know. I was heavily pregnant with Lilly last winter. I first knew I had felt her move in the fall, I was about 17 weeks. Winter is when I would receive multiple and continuous kicks from her, constant reassurance that she was there with me. I would sit out with the dogs in subzero temperatures and poke her and wait for her reply. It was my favorite thing to do, bugging her. 
Winter just brings back memories. And they're not bad, really. They more bitter sweet- sweet, because they're memories of my daughter, bitter, because she's not here to enjoy this winter with me. Bitter, because they bring back sad feelings- feelings of longing and desire for what was and what should have been. Bitter, because I can't have what I had wanted more than anything. And I won't be able to have her again, not in this life at least. I have to wait. And I hate waiting.