Patrick and I had gone to a group therapy tonight. We were the only people that showed up except the person running the group. Not exactly what we had in mind, but we still had a wonderful talk with the lady running it. We had told her what had happened with our Gemma and that its been 2 weeks now. 2 weeks. I haven’t heard my baby cry or coo for 2 weeks. I haven’t nursed and haven’t seen her beautiful smile for 2 weeks. 2 weeks ago I lost my true love. My precious Gem.
We had talked to the lady about our fears of losing another child. I cannot speak for Patrick, but I know I am terrified to have another baby, raise it with all the love I had also given Gemma, and then that baby dies too. Whether it be SIDS, an illness, or an accident. My heart cannot take losing another baby. I would feel that someone or something is telling me I’m not meant to be a mom. Not only am I afraid to lose another child, but I am also afraid that I may feel detached to my next baby. Detached because that baby is not my Gemma and because why love it with everything I have when that baby can also be taken from me in a blink of an eye.
Gemma was just starting to come into her own personality. She would mimic my coos, she had ticklish spots even though she wasn’t sure what that strange sensation was yet, but she did squirm. Her little toes would completely spread open when you touched her feet and Nana always said she could climb trees with those toes. She enjoyed being read to, for the most part, and liked being sung to. I miss that baby with my entire being. Every fiber in my body aches for my Gemma. It’s a rough night and talking about her is too much tonight. What I wouldn’t give to have my baby back.