Hello World....

Hello world.
I'm new at this blogging thing, so here goes trying to get my feet wet. After my daughter died, I began thinking of ways to channel my energy. Channel my hurt and my anger, and I began to write. It comes so easy for some reason, and allows to me to honestly feel all of the things I'm writing, to feel all of the things I'm feeling.
Bells was born on January 13, 2011, at 8:57 am. The first time I laid eyes on my beautiful baby girl, she was already in Heaven. When a baby is stillborn, they tell you that she was "born sleeping". I remember the doctors telling me it was time to push, but i was numb...from the hurt, and from the idea. Of course, the fetal heart monitor and ultrasound told me that my precious baby girl was no longer with us, and it was a fact i still wasnt ready to come to terms with. I pushed, with the best of my ability, powered on by words of encouragement. "you're doing so great" and "she's crowning" were meant to make me feel better....as if to say, "dont worry, you're almost done." What they DONT tell you is that the end of labor means the beginning of so much more. As i felt her head pop out, i have to be honest, i braced myself for her cry, and it killed me when it didnt come. The took her purple, limp body and wrapped her in a pretty pink blanket, with a tiny little pink hat on her head....and then they asked me if i wanted to hold her. I'll be honest with you...i hesitated. The doctor sensed my confusion, and laid her gently on the bed in front of me. She told me they would give me a minute before cleaning me up, and they left us. For a long moment, it was just Bells and I. Left to talk things over, make some sense of what was going on. And i wanted to speak to her...but i didnt know how. Silence filled the air between us, and i just stared at her....memorizing her face. At the time, i wasnt aware of all the options open to parents whom had lost a child, so her daddy and i took no pictures of her, something i regret every day. Although i said no words, i know she heard me, and i could feel her watching me....she was there. If not in body, then surely in spirit. And that's better than nothing, i'd say. I put my finger inside of her tiny little hand and i cried. Finally, the baby girl i dreamed of, and i had already lost her. Before i knew it, the dr was back, and ready to take her from me. They scooped her up gently and then she was gone. I remember a minute or two of hysterics, and then i was sedated. She cleaned me up, and sent me to recovery, where i waited to see my boys, and my honey. What i remember most vividly is hearing "born sleeping".  A nice way of saying, she died in the womb. And they expect that it will help you to  cope with your loss, because "sleeping" sounds so much more peaceful than "died". I suggest, however, to any of you currently experiencing this tragedy, don't refer to your angel baby as "sleeping". For too long i did this, and i began to believe it. I began to tell myself that i didnt hear her cries because she was "sleeping". I didnt need to feed her or change her because she was just asleep. It became a way of coping in a very unhealthy fashion. It took me a long time to come to terms with the fact that she had, indeed, died. Now that i have, its an uphill battle to start over. To become something different. The truth is, there is no normal. Your life doesnt go back to the way it was before you had her, it changes, she changes you...forever. Its about finding the new "normal" for our family. How do we cope with what we lost, and incorporate her into our lives in small subtle ways to make sure she is not forgotten. Its surely not easy, but nothing in life ever is.