I just looked at the calendar.   January 4th.  Hannah passed away one month ago, December 4th.

Has it only been a month?   Has it been a month already?   I know that contradicts itself, but in some ways it seems like she hasn’t been gone for an entire month and in other ways it feels like she has been gone longer.

I miss her so much.  So, so much.

I would give anything for just one more moment with her…

After we had to put down Molly, our 14-year-old Beagle, a few months ago, I had decided that it was going to be a long while before we got another dog.   We still had our old man, our 14-year-old cairn terrier, Kenny (Chesney), and our 4-year-old cat, Snowball.

And then I lost Hannah, and I was devastated…

Saturday morning, new years eve, I was sitting outside in the backyard by myself.   My own little pity party.

I missed Hannah terribly still.  I miss her unconditional love, her snuggling, her energy.  It is physically painful how much I long to have her in my arms again.   I know, I know.  I can never get that back.    But that doesn’t change the fact that I yearn so intensely for her still.

I was replaying a conversation I heard from Ethan and Abby quite a few times since Molly was put down, about how they wanted to get a puppy.   Even Daddy was enthusiastic about it, but I had put my foot down and said “no.”

Then I thought about it…maybe this is what I need?    A puppy will obviously never replace Hannah, but it would be fantastic to have that youthful playfulness around again.  Kenny is not a cuddly dog anymore and set in his ways, and I would love to have a puppy to cuddle with, who will lick my face out of excitement, and just have that thrill when he sees us.

I told Daddy that I had changed my mind, and immediately he pulled up the animal shelter website and started his search for puppies.   Obviously, he had been doing this a number of times before because it was less than a minute before he had the list up.   We looked small dogs under a year old.

I looked down the list of a dozen or so puppies, but none of them really clicked with me until I saw a picture of the last one.   It said he was a 7-month-old chihuahua, but his face didn’t look chihuahua so we knew he had to be a mix.  He was picked up by animal control on Christmas Eve.  The look in his face was just precious, so cute!   So we packed up the kids and Kenny into the car, and we decided to go meet this little pup.   We took Kenny with us because any new dog we got would have to pass the “Kenny” inspection and get along with him.

We met with the volunteer, and she brought out this little guy…who wasn’t as little as I expected!   I was expecting this little chihuahua, and this dog was about the same size as Kenny!   And skinny, so so skinny!   Immediately, he went to Kenny (who ignored him), and then I sat down on the ground to meet him.  Without any hesitation, he crawled right into my lap and sat there while Ethan and Abby were letting him sniff them.  Kenny came by a couple of times, but he had no care about this puppy.

We played in the pen with him and Kenny for about 20 minutes.   We were all hooked on this little guy.   He was sweet, approachable, and just wanted to be loved.  We were sold.   Because he hadn’t been fixed yet (a rule for dogs over 6 months to be adopted), they had to keep him until the day after new years when he would have his surgery and then we could pick him up.

It was good that we had to wait two days because it gave us time to get the house ready and really make sure this is what we wanted.  Which we definitely did!

We brought him home Monday night, and he was still a bit groggy from his surgery.  Our plan was to crate him, but he hated being in the crate (obviously) and I was scared that he was going to choke himself with the dog cone collar he has to wear for the next week so he doesn’t eat at his stitches.  He had a really rough night sleeping in the kitchen that first night because he wanted to be with everyone else, but tonight he did so much better when I put him in there to go to sleep for the night.

He is so lovable, so sweet.   His favorite place to relax is cuddled right in my lap.   Just what I needed.   I know it will never replace the longing I feel for Hannah, but having this adorable little distraction running around this house is new and is fun.

And yes, we chose the name “Mickey”….not that any of you are probably surprised about that!

I was never, ever into tattoos.  Never.  It just was not my thing.  Four years ago, if you asked me if I would ever get a tattoo, the answer would be “never.”

Never say never…On December 12th, 2011, the day after Hannah’s funeral, I got a tattoo.

I remember soon after Grey passed away, his mom got this beautiful tattoo on her leg for Grey.   It was then that I thought, “what an amazing way to keep him close to her!”   It was bright, it was beautiful, and it was designed into something that was what reminded her of her sweet boy.

The idea for me doing this first came about six months ago.   Well, actually it was a bit earlier than that, but that was when I first mentioned it to Daddy.  I had no idea what I wanted to do for the tattoo, but I knew that I wanted to have some kind of permanence of Hannah with me always.

It wasn’t until Hannah was placed into hospice and we started working on the Little Miss Hannah Foundation that it came to me.   Even though my initial idea for a logo wasn’t a sun, one thing led to another, and then it led me to one of Hannah’s favorite songs at the end of her life, “You are my sunshine.”  She loved when I sang that song…she would smile so big!

The day after the funeral, a dear friend, Abby, and I were at lunch, and I told her how I was thinking about getting a tattoo.  Not knowing that she had a few of her own already, she said “Let’s do it now!”   I didn’t even hesitate.   I said “Yes!”

So Abby, my friend Heather, and I found a tattoo place, and I showed the artist a picture of the sun graphic that I had found.   As I was doing the paperwork, I knew it needed a bit more.   I asked him if he could have the sun turn into a heart on its inside.   He came up with the design, and it was just perfect.  Perfect, perfect, perfect.

I got it on my left inside wrist.  Even though it hurt like crazy at times, I knew that was the place I wanted it.  It was the easiest part of my body that could cross my heart so I could connect the heart on my wrist to the heart in my body.

My friend got a similar tattoo for Hannah, the same sun with an adorable little lady bug inside because Hannah was our little ladybug.

I love it.  I’m going to get it touched up in a few weeks because the color isn’t as vivid as I had hoped, but the design is just perfect.   I have my little sunshine, my sweet Hannah who has forever captured my heart, permanently attached to me.

After I got this tattoo, Heather asked her friend to redesign the Little Miss Hannah Foundation logo to match my tattoo.   It represents everything I feel about Hannah and what she brought to this world – sunshine, love, and brightness.    And it represents what I hope we can bring to other families with kids who have terminal rare diseases, those who will have to go through a similar journey that we went through.

When Abby, Heather, and I got back to the house after getting the tattoo, Abby was so excited to tell Daddy.  She thought I was so cool for getting a tattoo and that she got to watch me get it.

Daddy wasn’t surprised at all…but he did say with a big grin, “This is the only one you plan to get, right?”

Never say never… right?

 

 

How I really feel about it is “Goodbye 2011, don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!”    If you weigh the good times with the bad times, the bad definitely overshadow the good.

Last year, I did a summary of first posts for each of the months of 2010.   I thought about doing it this year, but it just got too depressing.  To see Hannah’s condition constantly deteriorating, deteriorating more than we realized at the time.    We were so hopeful about each of the little advances yet failed to see the big picture.

I spend a lot of time looking at pictures and videos of Hannah these days.  I love, love looking at videos of her, especially in her first 18 months when she was only moderately affected, pre-trach, pre-gtube.   But as I look at the later videos, wow, she really was severely affected by this disease the last 18 months of her life.  It is almost criminal how much this disease affected her.  Yet, she still smiled.  It is amazing how much she smiles in these videos, up until the last few months anyway.

But 2012 is here, and it is a year that will not have any new experiences or new memories made with Hannah.  There will be no new photos, no new videos of her.  She is gone.

2012 is going to be the first of many years like this.   I miss her terribly…

 

We made it through the holidays.  I did better than I thought I would, honestly.

I ended up flaking on Christmas Eve activities with family because I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.  I felt this heavy load on my chest of sadness, and the thought of having to be “on” and “festive” while making gingerbread houses with all the kids just brought me to tears.  So Daddy took the kids without me, and it gave me a chance to let me have some time to myself.

But come Christmas day, I felt much better about things.  The night before, we put out all the Santa gifts, including the Hannah doll we had ordered which was the only thing in Hannah’s stocking.  Leave it to Abigail to point that out first thing even before her other gifts…”Mommy, Santa brought Hannah a doll!”    We had a great morning with Ethan and Abby, watching them open and play with their presents.

Then it was off to my in-laws house for more presents and Christmas Day dinner.  We stopped by the cemetery and visited with Hannah for awhile before going, and it was really comforting to see quite a few other families there visiting their kids as well.   It reassured Daddy and I that putting Hannah in the children’s section was definitely the right place for her, so festive with holiday spirit and so many visitors, unlike the rest of the cemetery.

Christmas Day was actually easier than I thought it would be, thank goodness.  Hannah was present in everyone’s minds, she was talked about often, and Santa even brought her a stocking filled with wonderful keepsakes for everyone, including this musical snowglobe angel for me, which I love (yep, Santa stops at my in-laws house for each of the grandkids too).   You could feel the love for Hannah throughout the day and evening, and that made such an impact on me.

But there still was this tremendous void in my heart, and I could never really get into the holiday spirit.

That Christmas evening, after the kids and Daddy went to bed, I started taking down all the Christmas knick knacks and decorations in the house.   I had to get it done right then.  It was kind of felt like a reward of sorts, which probably doesn’t make sense…but I made it through Christmas for the kids and now Daddy and I need to get rid of all the stuff that reminds us of it.

By late morning on the 26th, everything related to Christmas (with the exception of gifts) was already packed away and back in the garage.   This is not the norm for us, we usually left all our decorations out, including the tree, until after New years.   But I just couldn’t wait that long this time.

I still am constantly feeling this yearning and intense need to be with her, to have her physically here with me.    I still look at that picture that was taken at Christmas last year, a candid picture of me and her outside while the kids were playing.  She was so happy then, always smiling.

Even though Daddy and I realize now that the signs were already there that the disease was really started to progress, we still had hope then.  Hope that she would beat this disease.   Hope that there would be something out there to slow it down.

I didn’t even think then that she wouldn’t be here with us the next year.   There is something pretty crippling and devastating to your soul when hope is crushed and replaced with grief.

But, we made it through our first holiday without her.   Admittedly, a lot of it was just going through the motions for the sake of the kids, but we made it through.

 

I’m still having a terribly hard time getting into the holiday spirit.   I’m going through the motions, but I just am not feeling it.  I want to feel it, I really do.

This past week has actually been harder than the week before.  I think that it is now really sinking in more and more that Hannah is gone, and I can’t get her back no matter how much I want her.

And I do want her.  Horribly.  I find myself more mopey around the house, and being under the weather hasn’t helped much either.    I long constantly for her touch, her smile.  I feel so incredibly lost without having our cuddle time every day, many times a day.

I feel very cheated.  Cheated because my baby girl was taken away from me.   One of the most important things in my life was ruthlessly ripped away from me, and I am angry.  And sad.  And pissed.  And crushed.  And lost.

Hopelessly lost.    Hopelessly, hopelessly lost.

I’m going through the motions right now.  Still working on my masters degree in counseling (actually got an “A” in the class that just ended surprisingly), being mommy to Ethan and Abby who are home for the holidays (who are grieving at times, annoying each other constantly, and are dealing with a mom who just isn’t in the mood to do anything).   I’m glad I have Hannah’s foundation to start to work on, but even that doesn’t always fill the emptiness I feel.

I just have to make it through the holidays.  I told Daddy that if we could have afforded it, I would have probably whisked him and the kids away for that weekend and just ignore Christmas day.  But that wouldn’t be fair… fair to Ethan and Abby, fair to our family, just wouldn’t be fair.

Hannah should be here with us.   Bottom line.  She should be here.  But she isn’t.

How am I supposed to feel celebratory when I feel like my heart has shattered in a million pieces?   But I will put on as brave of a face as possible for Ethan and Abby.  Even though they have seen me have my mini breakdowns quite a few times, I will try and make their holiday a bit easier and not let them worry about me so much, at least for Christmas day.