I have a confession to make. I am a shitty deadbabymama. I am embarassed to tell you that I have not been a very good mom to Brenna. I rarely go to her grave. In fact, I just went there for this first time this year. The last time I was there was, I think, October. I just hate going there- being there means it's real, and I like to pretend it's not real. I think of her daily, but the longer it's been since she died, the longer I think of her in an abstract sense. I never say her name, calling her The Baby instead. When someone does say her name it's like a shot in the gut to me. My son has never been to her grave. I've only went there once with my husband, and that was the day we burried her. Today when I went I immediatly looked away. Like turning my head made it not real. I remember doing the same thing in the hospital when the nurse tried to show me a picture of her. I am so embarassed to tell you this, but she still doesn't have a headstone. I just don't want to face it. I've looked online, and I know what I want, but I just can't get myself to go and buy one. I feel like the worst mother in the world. It is my job to honor her, and I am failing at that. If it wasn't for the things my mother bought her, she would have an unmarked grave. Holy shit, I am really feeling horrible now. I feel like I am doing great, but I'm not so sure. I don't know if it's healthy to be in this much denial.