I Love You More

"Though I know I'll never lose affection
For people and things that went before
I know I'll often stop and think about them
In my life I love you more"

The Beatles

"I love you more" is something my family has said for as long as I can remember.  I think it started with my Pop Pop Louie.  At least in my mind, it originated with him.  He passed it on to his daughter (my mom) and she passed it on to us.

Father's Day "Breakfast for Dinner"

It's no wonder, then, that I say it to my daughter and my husband every chance I get.  

This song plays in my head often.  I first heard the Bette Midler version from the For the Boys soundtrack.  I was in high school.  Seems like so long ago.  I guess it was.

Time is such a fluid thing.  I have written about it in the past.  I feel like I often want time to stand still so I can enjoy a moment or speed up so I can get past a certain phase.  I struggle with living in the present and I want to be better with that.  

It's hard to not look back - to remember what I have loved and lost, to ruminate about how I got to be where I am in my life.  It's hard to not look forward - to dream about what the future will bring and the hopes and dreams I associate with it.

I feel like I am at such a strange stage in my grief.  Allie died over 3 years ago.  She is such a part of me - there is no denying that.  There are reminders of her everywhere - in the butterflies that float around, in the rays of sun that filter through the sky.  More often than not, her memory soothes me.  She comforts me. She makes me feel safe.

I rarely cry for her anymore.  I rarely have arms that ache to hold her anymore.  My head and my heart finally caught up to each other and are on the same page.  At least today they are.

I wonder how I will teach Miranda about her sister.  I know we still have time, but I think about it a lot.  I do not want to make her sad and I do not want her to learn about death before she has to, but I know Gary and I both want her to know about Allie.  It's so hard.

I rarely read the blogs from the baby loss community anymore.  (Side note: I still hate that there is this rather large community of us and yet we still do not have much of a voice outside of cyberspace.)  It was hard for me to read them once many of the moms who lost babies when I did started to become pregnant with their rainbows.  With each cycle that did not work for us, I felt more and more out of touch with them. Then when we decided to adopt, it was such a unique experience that it was hard to relate.  I did not have to make it through another pregnancy.  I had to fill out a home study.  I did not have to go through non-stress tests and ultrasounds.  We had to get fingerprinted and make a video on why a potential birth mother should pick us.  See?  Not really the same thing.

My blogs used to be so sad.  They used to make me cry just to write them.  Now they are more positive and uplifting.  They are about lessons learned and experiences.  They are about both of my daughters, but not cloaked in sadness.  Because I am not cloaked in sadness anymore.  That is the difference.

I am so grateful for what I have.  I know how lucky I am.  I have loved and lost in the most deepest of ways and I am a stronger women for it.  Most days I am happy.  Many days I smile for the simplest of reasons.  And some days, if you listen closely, you can hear me singing, "In my life, I loved you more"...

Allie and Miranda both on the slide on Father's Day

Daddy's Little Sunshine