I'm Already Torn

"Illusion never changed
Into something real
I'm wide awake and I can see
The perfect sky is torn
You're a little late, I'm already torn"

-Natalie Imbruglia

Summer is winding down. Our week in the mountains is behind us. I think we are in the midst of our last heat wave. Soon the days will be shorter and the nights will be longer.

Last week we got a letter saying that Miranda would be moving to the next class in September. A new season is almost upon us.

This year, more than last, I find myself torn. My heart hurts for all the firsts that Allie will not get to accomplish. She is not moving up a level in school. She is not transitioning to a big girl bed. She is not about to be potty trained. She doesn't have a favorite food or a favorite Disney princess.

While I am so excited that Miranda gets to do all these things (with the exception of the potty training!), it also makes me sad. I have learned to let myself feel the sadness as it will not go away just by wishing it would. Will I always feel this sorrow?

For the most part, I really do live in the moment. I celebrate the joy that is our rainbow baby each and every day. She is talking more and really communicating now. She laughs at the silliest things and when she is not laughing, she is making us laugh. She is strong-willed and determined and smart and kind. Some of that is genetics, but I suspect some of it also is the way she is being raised. With all I do and all I am, she is easily my biggest source of pride.

Some days, I can't help but wonder what kind of child Allie would be. In my mind, she is still the infant that I held in the hospital. She is not a 4-year old girl. And that's the thing. She never will be more than the infant she was. To sound like a certain 2-year old I know, "It's not fair." It's just not.

I see butterflies everywhere. At my niece's 2nd birthday party on Sunday, all of the cousins were playing outside. Just then, a beautiful monarch flew right in front of Gary and me. I actually turned to him and said, "All the kids are here today." Most days, that is enough. Today, though, I want more. I want to be shopping for back-to-school clothes for my first daughter. I want to know what her new classroom will look like. I want to know who her teacher will be.

I am torn. So very torn.

I love both of my girls equally. There is no doubt about that. Most people see us as a family of three, but we are very much a family of four. Chances are, I will spend many a day wondering about what could have been. But in a way, that negates what is. Thus, the feeling of being torn.

I love what I had. I love what I have. I love them both so very much.