You are my sunshine

You are my sunshine,
My only sunshine.
You make me happy
When skies are gray.
You'll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Please don't take
My sunshine away.

I used to sing that to my older daughter all the time. The day I lost her, I became unable to sing it. It seemed like a desperate prayer, that last line. I couldn't bear to sing it to my new baby, who I thought of as a survivor, like the survivor of a plane crash or some other horrible accident. Which I guess in a way she is, we all are.

Then one day, I realized I could sing the song. That maybe it was a prayer, and so I sang it. I tried to be brave, but even now, thinking about singing it, I get weepy. But I sang to my girl, I sang loud and strong so the world would know that I'm still in love and still love being a mommy.

I've started singing a different version of the song that makes me feel a little better.

You are my peanut,
My little peanut.
You make me happy
When skies are gray.
You'll never know, dear,
How much I love you.
Oh my little
Peanut's here to stay.

She saved my life

The day my daughter died, my baby girl, my second-born was 5 weeks 4 days old. I breastfed her while EMTs tried to revive her sister. I called a friend to come over and take care of her while I went to the hospital to say my last good-bye to my firstborn. And when I got home, I had to pump because I'd gone nearly 6 hours without nursing her.

Without her, my husband and I wouldn't have gotten out of bed the next day. Without her, I would have stopped eating. I had trouble eating, and lost at least 5 lbs. in just a couple of days, but when I noticed my milk supply dwindling, started eating better.

There is some history of mental illness, depression, and the like in my family, on my mother's side. Bad things have happened, and not everyone has bounced back. At some point, I decided that someday, my girl will either be telling her friends one of two things. Either she'll tell them about the horrible things her mother went through, and oh my God, look how crazy she is. Or she'll tell them about the same horrible things and that I'm sane and strong despite all the trouble. That's the kind of example I hope to be.

She is 10.5 months old now. I still tell her all the time, you saved my life.

The reason for being

Who am I? Why am I here? I don't know the general answers to these questions, but I can answer them for my blog.

Who am I? A grieving mother who lost her young child 9 months ago in a sudden, horrible way.

Why am I here? To share my thoughts in the hopes that they will help me heal and help someone else.

Shakti means strength. I think my strength has carried me through this far. Sometimes I fear it's running out.