I Will Fight The Pain, I Will Survive.


In one month, it will be two years since I took Evee into the doctor for the last time.


In one month, it will be two years since I sat & watched a nurse, unknowingly, inject two fatal needles into my child, and I actually held my daughter down, as she screamed, while they did it.


If she could have talked, would she have looked at me and said “Stop her, mommy! This is going to kill me!”. Would I have listened or brushed it off? If your child tells you they don’t want to get a poisonous needle stuck in them, maybe you should listen to them.


You know, some parents actually capture this on video as some great memory. I suppose I wasn’t that stupid.


That was the last day I took her outside, the last time she was around anyone else, alive.

It seems like it has been so long since she passed and other days it seems like it was just a bit ago. I can’t explain it but time has no meaning anymore, and it seems unchanged.


Every time I’m sitting at home, alone, staring around the house in silence, looking at all her pictures with tears in my eyes, still in utter disbelief, every other thought has left my head…


Every time I’m in the shower, sitting down with my head on my knees, bawling, or crying about all the hair I’m losing and thinking about how I used to hold her in the shower, rock her, and wash her clean…


Every time I look in the mirror, undressed, staring and sobbing at my breasts that remind me of only her…


Every time I look at her beauty and try to comprehend what or why this level of tragedy could happen to me…


Every time I swear out loud and hate myself for being so stupid and blind for allowing something so obviously dangerous to even go near my sweet child and then actually kill her...


Every time I’m in my car, bawling, tears & mucus everywhere, wailing to the clouds…


Every time I see a baby or toddler girl out & about and my eyes well up, and I rush to a corner of the store to go wipe my tears away...


Every time the pain or the stress is suddenly too much, my chest starts burning & aching, I’m dizzy, I can’t catch my breath, I’m sweating, and can feel, even hear my heart pumping fast & loud…


Every time the extremely painful loneliness sets in, whether I’m alone, or I’m in a full room...


Every time I’m in my bed, grabbing my sheets, clenching my chest, sobbing & howling out for her to be next to me…


Every time I scream to God, asking why he didn’t take me instead…


Every time I call out and ask for my broken heart to, literally, just stop…


...I remind myself, eventually the suffering and misery will pass, and the pain, I suppose, will just become a part of who I am...


...and with a lot of help, support, and God, I will become healthier, I will become happier, I will laugh again. I will win my fight. I will find a small home, and I will give back. I may find love someday, or I will be content alone. I will be a proud mother. I will live out my days passionately advocating, helping parents, saving children.


And every time a wave comes up and tries to take me under and away...


I will fight it....


....and I will survive.


I hope & pray, I will survive.