Two weeks... in Madelyn Olivia

It was two weeks ago today that I last felt my favorite moments in pregnancy, my baby girl moving around in my stomach. My sisters and I went out for Mexican, and Maddy got the hiccups. My other kids had hiccups all.the.time while in utero, but Maddy had only ever had them one other time. At the time, we laughed at her hiccups and wondered if she would like Mexican food. Now I question myself, were those hiccups a sign of something terrible happening inside me? I remember one last movement as I layed on my side trying to fall asleep. If only I had known to cherish it....
Today I feel angry. So.so angry. I’m angry at myself, and I’m angry at God. Let’s be honest. I have abused my body with my eating disorder for nineteen years now. If I were to die, it could almost be expected. It would be talked up to heart or other damage my body suffered as a result of all that I have done to it. I. I. I. Maddy did nothing with her little body but try to live. Okay, maybe she was a party girl and had a little too much fun doing somersaults in there, but why did God let the cord that was supposed to give her life lead to her death instead? I almost wish I had asked to see the cord wrapped around her neck before the doctor cut it. Maybe I could have seen and understood how this happened? My doctor calls it a “freak accident” and said he delivers one or two fullterm still born babied a year. How did I become one of those two?!
We visited Maddy’s gravesite for the first time today. I’m trying to navigate the road between sentimental/healing and morbid. Today we left a metal box that had letters from me and Will, cards from Jacob, Gavin, and Abby, the tiny outfit that I gave Will to tell him she was a “she”, and a little pink hat. Not sure what normal grieving looks like. I am pretty sure it does NOT look like digging up your daughters gravesite so that you can hold her again, touch her tiny fingers, or kiss her perfect toes. Sadly, that is what I really wanted to do. Logically I know that her body is decomposing, but in my heart it’s my baby in that ground, and I want to get her out and keep her with us where she belongs.
I went to church for the first time since her funeral. I cried the entire time. I didn’t want to be worshipping God. I wanted to be angry with him. Our congregation was awkward–cautious and quick hugs, glancing but trying not to stare during the service. I know they mean well, but I was so relieved to get out of there.
Will goes back to work this week. The kids are back in school. I am taking the week off and am at a total loss for how I will fill my time.