It has been a strange week of reminders that we did actually lose a baby. I do not know how to say it clearly but there are times that I just sit back and think "wow, that really did happen to our family!"
Makayla has been learning math sentences and writing out math problems from a story at school. One day this week she was saying different scenarios and adding them together and they went something like this:
"If Mommy had one baby and then had another baby then she had two babies."
"If Mommy had two babies then had another baby and that baby died, then she still has 2 babies.....right mommy?"
And this is the reality for my sweet little 6 year old. She has really tried since she was 3 to wrap her head around this reality we are all forced to deal with.
I found myself looking at a picture of a family with 4 kids and thought of how great it looked. Anyone who knows me well knows that I have an issue with an odd number of children. I know that in my heart I have 4 children, I have carried 4 babies and held them all in my arms. I can hardly look at pictures of our family of 5. I have a picture on our wall of the 5 of us from when Claire was just a couple of months old and have probably looked at it a handful of times. In fact, I only look at it when I am pointing out to people how fat I look in it. Anyway, got off subject a little bit! I so badly want another baby to "even up" our family, Greg is not against this but he says that even with another baby we will always feel like one is missing. I know that and I'm not thinking of a "replacement baby" but I cry every time I think about Claire growing up without her sister that is close in age :(
My other reminder was tonight. I was reading a story about a baby that had died shortly after she was born. I was looking at the pictures of this beautiful little girl with no sign of defect to be seen. I had the same feeling of disconnect that I had to these situations before Olivia's diagnosis. I was reading and thinking that it would be horrible to have a baby, hold her and then just have her gone one day. Then suddenly a hard lump that I just couldn't swallow popped up in my throat. My disconnection from it all was gone and once again I was feeling compassion. I also am that mother that knows the pain of saying goodbye too soon.
Although I am typing this about specifics, I do think of her everyday pretty much continually. I can't explain it but I know my fellow BLM's understand.