Tuesday, July 14, 2015
And those sweet grieving Mamas, they were correct. All of those occasions hurt, some more than others.
But nobody prepared me for what it would feel like on the day I should have been hosting my baby’s first birthday party or the weeks leading up to it. That party would have been "should have" been in two weeks.
If you have known me for any length of time you know I’m all about my babies’ first birthdays....or really all birthday's for that matter. Birthdays are my favorite.....it the one day out of the year that we get to celebrate your life. We get to celebrate you. But the very "1st" birthday is something special. Every other birthday is all about celebrating the child, but the FIRST birthday is about celebrating the child’s mama, too. Because we both “made it” through the first year. That first year feedings and burpings and snuggles and growing pains. All those milestones that flood life one after the other. The first birthday is a chance to celebrate all of those hard and wonderful, irrepeatable things....
Unexpectedly, this month has been full of grief for the child I lost, for the little one whose first birthday would have been in two weeks. Not being able to host a first birthday party reminds me, I suppose, of all the milestones and memories I do not share with my sweet girl…all the things we didn’t get to experience together.
It’s a strange sorrow, because even as I yearn to know and hold the baby I lost, I fully realize that my sweet baby girl is playing on the streets of Gold awaiting the day that we can play together. And so it makes my sorrow for my Little One in heaven all the more…confusing. Strange. I don’t know how else to describe it.
This last Sunday in church was our Homecoming. As a church we remember all of our past members and loved ones that have passed....and we light a candle for them. Oddly enough, I was asked to stand up front and light the candles. After all the names were read...the congregation was asked if there was anyone we had missed. In my heart I wanted to speak up and say yes....but something held back the words...and instead while standing in front of the congregation and lit a candle....a candle for the baby girl that I so longingly want to hold in my arms.
I sat down in the pew and grief settled back in my heart. The grief that I have fought so hard to overcome.
My sweet Bailey turned 3 a couple weeks ago.....my handsome Khristian turned 14 last week....and I was supposed to be getting ready to celebrate my 1 year old...
So how do you celebrate a life that never got to live? Do you eat cake? Do you take flowers to a grave that doesn't exist? Do you release a balloon? Do you light a candle?
I feel like I should do something...I want to celebrate her life. This is unknown territory for me....I always make a huge deal out of my children's birthday....but again, How do you celebrate a life that never got to live?
I don't know right now....what I do know is this...
Don’t let anyone tell you when the hard times will come. Yes, it may be extra hard around the baby’s due date or anniversary of death. And then again it might not be hard for you. Either way, it is fine to feel any and every emotion that you do. But know that sometimes your grief will come and knock you over, completely by surprise. The “red-hot jab of memory” will seer your heart and consume your thoughts. And that’s okay too. Life is hard, and so is remembering the ones we’ve had to let go.
Sweet Little One, you have my heart forever. And I miss you.