Discovering Me

Me on having babies, losing babies, trying to have babies and hoping to bring this one home.

Wednesday, September 15, 2010

Number Six for Number Two

September 16, 2010

Dear Audrey,

Happy sixth birthday, Baby. Let’s face it though, today should not be your birthday. Today should be just another day closer to the birthday you should have had around mine in October. I remember I was so excited to get to throw Halloween birthday parties.

Fall has always been my favorite time of the year. Funny though, it’s always the time of year that has brought the most struggles in my life. But you, you are a bright light. Even with you gone, I still feel like you are here. Somehow you still fit in that hole between yours sisters, Grace and Natalie. It’s your place.

This would have been a big year for you, for us. You would have started kindergarten. You would have ridden the bus with the big kids. You would be having your first grade school Halloween parade and party, so many firsts.

So many times that I stop and think what things might be like if you were here. How would our family be different? I wonder if we would have your baby sisters at all. Would we have stopped with you? That was the plan. We were going to have you and Grace and that would be all. I’m so thankful for all of you. I can’t imagine my life without the babies. In almost the same sense, it’s hard for me to imagine what life would be like with you here. It’s a difficult dichotomy for me, a very hard situation to reconcile. I don’t think I’ll ever figure it out. Maybe that’s life’s way. Well, it’s my life’s way. It’s what I was given. It’s what we were given.

It sounds odd, even to me, but I could swear I have heard to calling me lately. I’ve decided it must be you. It’s a voice calling “Mommy”. It’s not Grace, though many times when I’ve heard it I’ve asked her what she needs only to be told she didn’t say anything. It’s a voice too big to be Natalie. And, it’s certainly not Julie! It must be you. To me, it’s you. I hope you keep calling. I hope it’s your voice I hear.

Your big sister, Grace, she misses you so much. I think she feels your absence as much (or more) than Daddy and I do. She and Natalie are so far apart in age that they just sometimes don’t have enough in common to play well together. The two of you would have had so much fun. When she is her most frustrated with the little ones, she tells me that she would have someone to play with if you were here. I know she’s right. That was our plan. You two were going to be close in age and be able to share so many things growing up. I suppose too, that she would have someone to share the load with. She’s such a big helper, but if you were here, she would have someone to help her to help me. So many ways we all feel the hole where you should be.

I wonder if this year might not be harder than last, at least for me. Last year was so full of excitement, anxiety and expectation because Julie was coming. But this year, this year, our family is really complete. Complete in the sense that there won’t be any more babies. No new little people coming to meet us. This year we are here and we are not all together because you are not here. You are not here and that hole will always be where it is, right between Grace and Natalie. Your place.

I’m still surprised at how many people remember you. How many people send me a note this time of year who say that they are thinking of me and us and remembering you. Some of them I hardly know. There are a few people who I wish would remember you, who would just say something, but honestly, they are the same people who barely acknowledge your sisters, so I guess it should be no surprise. The people who remember, though, they are special. They are the ones who would have loved you, who do love you. They think of you and they think of our family and they send us their love.

So kiddo, here I sit, writing you a letter again. Another year. Another year we’ve missed you. Another year we love you. Another year we wonder what things would be like and who you would be. Another year when I can’t believe you’re gone. Another year I wish you were here. Another year that proves life goes on whether you want it to or not.

I love you, Baby. I miss you. Your daddy misses you. Your sisters miss you. We all love you. To the moon and back.


Love,

Mommy