You went your way And I stayed behind

Today marks one month.  One month that my little girl has been gone.  One month that I've been without her.  One month that she's been with her Father.

I never thought that I would be sitting on my bed writing all this.  Things that you see in movies or read in books or hear from friends of friends, you never think that will happen to you.  You know it's horrible and sad, but for some reason you think you're invincible from it.

Well I woke up from that dream really fast.  I'm not sure who all was at the hospital besides my family while I was getting prepped for my C-Section.  But I do know that everyone was praying for God to do us a miracle.  For the doctor to be amazed that she was alive.  As I was laying on the operating table holding Ben's hand I was praying.  Telling God I knew how capable He was to do this, like He needed to be reminded.  I was reminding God how Jesus brought people back to life, and how He healed the blind and made a lame man walk.  My uncle Lee came flooding in my head.  If God could save Lee's eye sight and heal him then God could do this for me and Ben.

It felt like hours that I was on that table.  In reality it was only 35 minutes.  As the operating staff was wheeling me to the recovery room I remember rolling by a waiting room and wondering if that was where my family was.  I didn't see anyone, but later I found out that that was where everyone was.  Lynn saw me being rolled to the recovery room, and I'm told that she feel into dads arms when she saw me.  She knew that Chatelle was gone.

In the recovery room they brought Chatelle out to me and Ben.  She was wrapped in a beautiful crocheted purple, pink and white blanket.  She was wearing a white crocheted dress.  She was beautiful!  I knew she would be.  She looked just like me when I was a baby.  My lips, nose, fingers, everything.  Soon after, family started coming in one at a time.  Mammy, Pappy, Ma, Rebecca and Angle.  Then off we went to the other room.  Slowly everyone started flooding in the room.  Both our families, pastor Daryl and the two wonderful ladies (Heather and Orena) that took pictures for us came.  Needless to say there was way more than 3 visitors in that room.

That night after everyone left and it was just Ben and I, I was holding Chatelle, running my finger down her cheek and nose.  Crying and telling her how sorry I was that I couldn't take care of her.  Telling her how much I loved her and always would and that one day I would be with her.  Letting her go when the nurse came to take her away was the hardest thing that I have ever done in my life.  I held on to her as tight as I could without hurting her.  I closed my eyes, kissed her head and said good-bye.  No parent should have to do that with their child.  No parent should have to bury their child, but I did.  And still the question is WHY?!