Friday, September 30, 2016

Morgan Elizabeth {36 days postpartem}

 See that little girl? Holding on to her Daddy's arm? That is me. I was 9 years old, and I was crying for my cousins. I was standing with my Mom and my Dad, pawing for more tissues. I was looking at cousin and her husband, who are very near and dear to my heart. My cousins were looking at a casket. A tiny little casket, that held the body of their lifeless little girl.
     Before the funeral, I was confused. I wasn't able to wrap my head around what was going on. I remember my Mom telling me not to ask questions, and not to talk about it, unless Laura talked to me about it first. I remember being so confused about WHY. WHY could this happen, what happens now? And honestly, I remember thinking that it was odd to go to a funeral for someone I had never known. I don't think I had ever been to a funeral before. I think I had begged my Mom to let me go to my Great Grammies,  but I don't think I went. Although I was close with my "Grammie Chick" I don't remember much about that time. I do remember Morgan's funeral. Sweet Morgan Elizabeth, their tiny little girl, in a tiny little casket. I remember that that was the first time I understood what it meant to love someone you never got to know. I didn't understand until I stood there with my parents, and wept for my cousins. I saw all the pain on there faces, I knew, at nine years old, that they would never ever feel more pain, than they were right there.
     Their house warming was a few days later, and in a search for normalcy, the family decided not to postpone. Again, I was told not to talk about Baby Morgan unless her Mom or Dad brought it up first. That never became an issue. Laura asked me immediately if I wanted to see  picture, of course, curious little Kassie did. We were standing in the hall way of her new home, beside her stairwell. There is now a photo of me, with her, on that wall, from a couple years before, when I was a flower girl, in their wedding. She handed me a tiny polaroid picture of her tiny daughter. Morgan was premature, so she was just an itty bitty thing, but she was perfect, she had ten fingers, and ten little toes. There was a stuffed animal in the picture beside her, I believe it was a bunny, I think it was almost as big as she was. Never once was there a question that Laura, and her husband Jon did not answer for me. Some times the answer was, "I don't know honey", and that was there honest answer, they didn't know why this would happen to them. Still, every question was meant with a raw, and honest answer. She never cried when I asked her, or if she did, she protected me for that. She never once, made me feel bad for my curiosity. Morgan was never a secret. Morgan was never Taboo.
     I text my cousins, every year, on their daughters birthday, I let them know I am thinking of them, and I talk to Morgan every year, I never forgot her. I still ask her questions, about her pregnancy, about Morgan, about anything. I don't ever remember, after her housewarming, a day that went by that I was afraid to ask her a question. Morgan's life has had a profound effect on my life, she always will be with me, forever in our hearts.
     The unfortunate truth of this blog post, it's not entirely true. That little girl, is not me.That is not my Dad, and that is not my Mom. Those are my cousins, and that is Morgan's sister. She looks on at her cousin, she looks on at me, as we look on at the casket that holds the lifeless body of our sweet tiny little girl. But that could have been me, I have walked in those shoes, I have felt her feelings, and cried her tears.

      I'm sure she has questions, and I'm sure her Momma and Dad answer them with full honesty, even if that answer sometimes is "I don't know honey". I hope no one ever looks at a child, who has a question about my daughter, and hides her from that child. My daughter will not be taboo. She will not be a secret. So when a different one of my little cousins, who was adopted into our family long after Morgan, asked me "Didn't your baby come out dead?!" I took a deep breath, steadied my voice, and answered him, to the best of my abilities. I will do my best, to never make ANYONE, feel guilty about any conversation that revolves around my daughter let alone, a child.
     I said that the worst part of this blog post, was that it was not me standing there. It's true. It sucks, that after all the pain they felt over ten years ago, they have to watch someone the hold close, go through the same thing. BUT the best part about this, is, that that is there little girl standing there. Morgan has a sister, who is happy and healthy, and living, partially because we know what caused Morgan's life to end. Morgan has two happy and healthy sisters. Her parents are standing with there arms around one of their girls, while another one of their girls shows my baby around heaven. That little lady, is a representation of hope, of life, and light after darkness.
     I would do anything, to have either of them back, but we can't change it, even though we would. Our children have purposes in life, all of them. One of Morgan's was to save her sisters, but years later, we are still finding those purposes, one of them, I'm sure of it, was to help me through this. My daughter was able to help five others with her organs, but I hope in ten years, I am still finding reasoning in her life, and not focusing on her death.
     You will never be forgotten, sweet girl, you too, are forever in our hearts.


No comments:

Post a Comment

1,734 days "She Can't Come Visit You... She Died"

  My Cousins daughters went to build a bear after Leeona Died and made this teddy bear. They gave it to me so that I could feel better, and ...