I can't bring myself to go physically to a support group, so hopefully I can find some comfort here. .
I lost my 5 year old daughter to stage 4 Wilms Tumor almost 4 months ago on May 25, 2017. She beat it once, so they said, though her remission only lasted the summer last year. We got diagnosed this time 2 years ago, the worst news I've ever heard. So out of the blue, as she had just started preschool and never seemed sick at all. Even through all the rounds of chemo, her counts being low, her platelets being almost nothing, she was always her lively happy self. She never complained when I had to give her shots in the leg many nights in a row just to boost her immune system after strong chemo. Right up until a month before she passed, she only took medicine for nausea. We took a Make-a-Wish trip in early April, which was supposed to be five days, and she got pneumonia after the first day. Sometimes I feel that if we didn't take that trip, I could have kept her longer. Everything went downhill after that.
I have two boys, 7 and the other just turned 4, and they are the reason I can get out of bed. I try to be strong for my husband, but his grief is so different than mine. He drinks, and hardly ever talks about her. He'll mention that he misses her on his bad days, but I feel like I can't ever talk about her to anybody. I feel like I have to be the strong one, because everyone is going about their day and they don't need to see me bawling my eyes out. I haven't taken a shower without crying from start to finish since she passed. Anytime I'm alone, even if it's just a quick trip to the store, I cry. I scream out to God, why did he have to take they only thing I've ever wanted? Why did he have to take my only girl?
She was all I've ever dreamed. Curly hair, loved everything girly and glittery and soft, and had the sassy mood to match. My mini me. My pretty girl. I can't even bake cookies without her. I can't make certain foods that we would make together, and I can't hear our girl songs on the radio. I feel like someone is sitting on my chest and I can't breathe. I thank God for letting her go in my arms, so peacefully, but I can't understand why. I fought so hard, I gave her every medicine they told me to, I researched clinical trials on my own, I took her out of town in hopes we can get stem cell transplant, but we were never able to. Her birthday is next month, and I'm already upset about it. The pain only gets worse. I miss my Mia. How do I live? I fear I'll never be happy again.