I had a baby shower today for the girls and it was given to me by Melanie and your Aunt Diane. They were really sweet and even relocated the whole thing to my parents house in Murray from Diane's house in Lehi because my doctor put me on bed rest and I'm not supposed to even leave the house. I did okay today because I had always expected to go through this event without you there since I hadn't planned on having men at the shower, but what was hard about it, and about some other days that I've had as well, was people taking pictures of me.
I've never liked having my picture taken, even when I was little. I've always hated the way I look in pictures, and always preferred being behind the camera rather than in front of it. And even though I haven't gained a whole lot of pregnancy weight (only around 20 lbs), I still feel big and fat and gross so it's hard for me to be okay with having my picture taken for that reason. But, like that reason isn't enough as it is, the biggest thing that bothers me about having my picture taken now is that I don't want to remember myself during this time without you being here. Every time I go back and look at pictures of me pregnant I'm going to remember how you weren't here. I'm going to see myself with my giant belly full of our daughters and remember how they lost their father much too soon. Every time I see a picture of me right now, I'll remember the feelings that I have each day about how hard it is to even wake up and get up out of bed and try to live another day instead of just giving up and completely letting myself go. If it wasn't for our daughters, I think I'd lay down on a blanket at the cemetery next to your grave, stop eating and drinking, and just lay there for the rest of my (inevitably short) life.
I don't want pictures taken of me right now because I don't want to have this time in my life captured for me to forever remember. It's haunting, and my hope is that I will someday be healed from the ghost of you and of us together. I love the pictures that you and I had together during our life together, but without you here, I don't want any taken of me because I will always remember this time in my life on my own anyway, and I don't need the pregnant pictures of me, standing there fat and alone, widowed without a husband, staring me back in the face reminding me that you weren't here and I had to do this alone.
So now that today happened and the shower happened, there are pictures of me, pregnant with our daughters who have lost their father, me surrounded by people who love me but still feel sorry for me because I've lost you, me alone with out you. And any time I see these pictures, I'll be reminded of these awful feelings and thoughts that I experience on a daily basis and a part of me will die each time. I'm sad that these pictures exist, and I know that maybe someday I'd look back and wish I had at least one picture of me pregnant just for the sake of remembering that experience, but I think the pain of the overwhelmingly consuming feelings of lamentations that I have because you're not here will always overpower the sense of pride I feel in carrying our daughters.
Like always, I love you very very much today, and I've thought about you constantly. I miss you terribly, and it always hurts something awful. And as far as taking pictures go, I'd give anything to have another, just a snapshot, of me and you together, standing next to each other and smiling because we were happy. Forced smiles never go unnoticed.
I love you, sweetheart, and I hope you don't hold it against me that for now, I'm going to do my best to try and stay behind the camera rather than in front of it.