Friday, November 19, 2010

I Just Want Her Back

These are the words that I kept repeating to myself over and over again as I went about my errands today. I want to shop for a Christmas dress for her, like the technician at the vet told me she was doing—she saw my necklace with Hudson’s name stamped on it (without asking anything about it) and started telling me about how she saw something like it on Etsy, and how she shops on Etsy all the time for things for her daughter. At Target, I want to buy supplies for her birthday party. At REI, I want to get her some colorful fleece booties to keep her feet warm this winter. At Costco, I want to sit and have lunch with her and then stroll around the store with her while she entertains everyone who walks past. And to get her some fleece footed jammies in a 2T size with Christmas trees and reindeer on them. And maybe the Elmo Christmas song book. I want to take her to the Christmas on Ice display at the National Harbor, for which I must have heard ten radio ads in the car today. I want to take her hiking on these cool fall days. I want to play with her in the piles of colorful leaves in the backyard. I want to take her to ZooLights at the National Zoo, which was advertised on the back cover of the zoo magazine that came in the mail today. I want her to try her first hot apple cider. I want to take a family photo of the three of us and Bess for this year’s holiday cards.  I want to bake and decorate Thanksgiving turkey cookies with her this weekend so that she can take them to her grandma’s house next week. I want to listen to Christmas music with her and teach her my favorite songs. I want to knit a stocking for her. I want to tell her about her little brother or sister who is coming in May and teach her all about penguins.

I want. I want. I want.

I know this is the time of year where I am supposed to be thinking about how grateful I am for everything that I have. And I am. Grateful. For everything that I have.

But I just want my little girl back. I just want my Hudson back. I Just. Want. Her. Back.


  1. Oh Mandy. This photo is too much with her big diaperbum and her cool boots and leggings. I want her back too.


  2. I've been reading your posts for a while and have also lost a baby, at birth. Today I thought of you when I read a neat article in our local paper. A family decorated and donated a Christmas tree to be autioned off for our wonderful children's hospital's annual tree festival. All money raised by the tree festival to the hospital for extras that families need while their little ones are hospitalized -- parking passes, food stuff, etc. This family lost their 1 year old. They did have 2 other, older kids and last Christmas was rough for them all. This year, they bought and decorated a tree in Caroline's memory with toys and cute things that a now 2 year old would love. The project helped their older kids remember their sister, and it helped the parents because they also wanted to buy these things for Caroline. Because it raised money for the hospital, and because another child would receive the tree/toys, they all felt so much better this year. Times does heal (it's been 15 years since my own child's death, and while it still hurts, the hurt is "softer" now, if that makes sense.) I just felt that I should pass this on. Not this year, but maybe in the future, this could be a great tradition that your other children could do with you to remember Hudson. You're all in my prayers everyday.

  3. I'm sorry. The depths of your loss are so vast. I'm sorry the world lost such a precious soul. Anyone who reads a word from you knows the depths of your gratitude for Hudson and for your Ed. Go easy on yourself. Feel what you gotta feel. And know that so many are praying for your comfort and strength.

  4. Speechless and sobbing. I want. For you.

  5. Oh Mandy. Of course you want your little girl back. I wish she could come back, somehow, and enjoy all those wonderful holidays things with you. x

  6. True, this is the time of year when most people count their blessings...but you are not "most people." You are Hudson's mommy, and she's not here anymore, so the rule book goes out the window. You are not obligated or "supposed" to do/feel anything. "I know this is the time of year where I am supposed to be thinking about how grateful I am for everything that I have." Hudson WAS everything to you, and while you do have a huge network of family and friends supporting you, that is a huge gap that is still it's going to be hard to be able to say, "Well, yes, I lost my daughter but I still have -this, this, and this-." Personally, I would not be able to get past the "but" in that sentance.

    I want her back for you, too...those sound like beautiful holiday celebrations, and one day soon there will be another special, lucky child to share them with you. Perhaps a slightly different "special" than Hudson, but still just as special in the ways that really matter.

  7. I've been there. It's an awful place to be. Praying for you.

  8. It's OK to want her back! I hope you always want her back. :) It's ok to want to buy those things for her.

    I know that when my husband left, I wanted to shake every married woman and say, "I hope you appreciate that man of yours!" because unfortunately, I took mine for granted.

    I know that when I walk around with my son -- he's two and 1/2 -- I feel apart from all those around me who walk together with their family: Mommy, Daddy and child(ren).

    Eventually you will find yourself stronger than ever because of this. But not every day has to be the one of a heroin. Some days you just have to cry and miss her.

    Love, andrea (Raisin Peanut)