Goodbyes are not forever. Goodbyes are not the end. They simply mean I miss you.. Until we meet again.

Monday, November 21, 2011

Oakland.

There was a remembrance ceremony held by Oakland Kaiser in honor of the children that had died at their hospital. They asked us to send pictures because they were making a slide show. I went. I didn't know what to expect, but I went.

The minute we crossed the Bay Bridge, I could feel it. When we took the same exit that I had taken so many times to get to the hospital, I could feel the overwhelming grief start to take over. We were in Oakland, but this time, I wouldn't be seeing my Bella. We drove past the hospital. We drove past the clinic where I had once had an ultrasound and the doctor had assured me that everything was okay. We passed by the shops that I had roamed around in so many times, waiting for Bella to get out of surgery or simply to try to catch a breath. I saw the nail shop where I had imagined someday, Bella and I would be getting pedicures together. I had not been back to Oakland since December 7th, 2010, and now I wish that they'd burn that stupid city down and forget about it.

We arrived at the chapel where the ceremony was being held. There were nurses, doctors, social workers, chaplains, and other families that had experienced the loss of a child. They gave everyone some time to see familiar faces and to catch up a little. I saw nurses that had taken care of Bella many times. They told me that everytime that a little girl came in dressed in pink from head to toe, they thought of her. They told me how they always remembered that her dad had been the one to want to see her in pink, and they thought it was the most adorable thing. I saw nurses and doctors from the NICU that remembered taking care of Bella. They told me stories that they remembered about her. I was touched that they remembered so much about her. I couldn't believe that these details about us were still so clear in their minds. Bella touched their lives, and I felt so so proud of her.

The ceremony was beautiful. They showed a slideshow of all the children. Bella's picture was one of the first ones that came onto the screen. She was sitting next to her birthday cake, dressed in her pink tutu and matching headband. I cried, and cried, and cried some more. It really happened. She's gone. And this is all it will ever be. There will never be a picture of her 2nd birthday. There will never be more than memories.

I was thankful for the people that put the ceremony together. It really was very thoughtful of them. I just wasn't prepared for it. I walked in there not knowing what to expect, and I wish I wouldn't have. The poems that they read were so sad. They focused on their dying, rather than on their lives. Seeing the familiar faces brought back so many memories. Driving past the hospital and Piedmont Ave just made me feel like I was reliving it all. Oakland was torture.

I'm still trying to recover from that visit. I find myself crying all the time. Remembering more and more the details. I keep coming back to the day that Bella stopped breathing. The way I had felt like my world had stopped at that very moment, and in a sense it had. I can still remember how silent the room was. The way that I could hear the ticking of the clock so clearly. The way that her father and I had looked at each other, afraid to breathe ourselves.

I regret going to Oakland. I want her back. The anger is still there; it's neatly tucked in the pit of my stomache. We didn't deserve this.

Mommy loves you Lovebug <3

Tuesday, November 8, 2011

Bella's Second Birthday

You were Bella, pure and simple. There was nobody else like you. I knew it the moment I first laid eyes on you.

What if things had been different? What if you had been born healthy? What if things didn't have to turn out the way they did?
You wouldn't have been you. We wouldn't have been us.

We figured out what to do for your birthday Lovebug, and it couldn't have been more perfect. On the actual day we decorated your site and your bench. Your Grandma gave you flowers, lot's of them. Your Nini took care of your bench and it looked amazing. Your Uncle Junior brought you a slice of cake so that you could celebrate with all your angel friends. Your Tio Jorge wrote you a beautiful card. And your auntie Lizard brought you the most beautiful birthday card made especially for a princess.

 October 28th, 2011.

We decided to do the balloon release the next day since it was a Saturday and everyone could join since they wouldn't be working. Everyone came together for you. The kids had decided to write messages for you to send to Heaven. They wrote on the balloons themselves and some of them had more to say so they attached notes to them. We gathered together in the garden and right before we started to sing Happy Birthday to you, a butterfly flew by! The timing couldn't have been more perfect! We all sang together and then sent your balloons right up to you! It was a beautiful sight.

Special delivery for a beautiful angel named Isabella!

Everyone gathered together to celebrate your life!

All the kids were so excited!

And then we sang Happy Birthday!

And off to Heaven they went!
I love you Lovebug!
The real perfect would have been with you here. The real perfect would have been a birthday party, with cake and balloons just for you. The real perfect would have been for us to sing Happy Birthday and to see a smile spread across your beautiful face. I have learned to define perfect much differently than before. Perfect is now a day full of sunshine, with the perfect breeze that simply reminds me of you. Perfect is now a butterfly that flies by to remind me of your beauty. Yes my Love, perfect has changed for me, but one thing that will never change is my love for you.