Just Thinking About Tomorrow

Tonight, I am having trouble with my words. There is so much I want to say, so much I want to convey. The windows are open for the first time all year, and the sounds of Spring are permeating our home. And yet, I am sad.

Seven years ago on the night before Good Friday, we had our last Labor & Delivery Class. I mentioned to the nurse that I hadn't felt my daughter move as much as I liked. She told me to go home and relax and eat something sweet and start to count kicks. 

The kicks never came. The next day, on Good Friday, I delivered the most beautiful seven pound, 2-ounce angel. With my hair and Gary's long fingers and toes, she took our breath away. Although to be honest, I think we stopped breathing the day before.

Every year, I struggle with the fact that I have to mourn twice - once on Good Friday and once on Allison's actual birthday which is April 22nd. 363 days, I celebrate her. Two days, I grieve her.

Tomorrow night, I am hosting my first Passover Seder. Just my immediate family, but with all the kids, it will be a full house. The focus on cooking all day and the attention to all the details will surely keep me preoccupied. I think that's why I offered to host this year.

Tomorrow is also the anniversary of my father's death. He died the day before Miranda turned one. I think about him often. Who would he be now? Who would I be if he were still here?

Saturday is Miranda's fifth birthday. We are excited to celebrate this milestone together and rejoice in all that is good. It's hard to believe this very weekend, two years after her sister's death, our rainbow baby was born and changed the course of our lives forever.

Sunday is Easter with Gary's family, and it's been a long time since we have all been together. I can hardly wait.

So much has changed in our lives in seven years. I miss my innocence and my naivete, but I am proud of my strength and perseverance.

In my new job, we often talk about "trauma-informed language." I was told in my interview that I speak it well and have been told that a few times since. I think it's from the grief counseling and support groups that I have learned how to speak and listen in a way that is soothing.

Miranda is starting to understand bigger concepts as she is getting older. Twice in the last month, she has told complete strangers that she had a sister who died before she had a chance to live. It GUTS me to hear her say that. But she says it with a smile. To her, she is keeping the memory of her sister alive. And I guess to me, she is, too.

During Passover, we ask "The Four Questions" as part of the Seder. One of them is, "Why is this night different from all other nights?" Well, for me, the answer will be simple. "On this night, I mourn those who I have lost, but I celebrate their memories, and I am embracing all the love that is around my table."

Now please pass the matzo ball soup!

How Did It Get So Late So Soon?

The title of this post comes from not me, but from Dr. Seuss. Seemed rather appropriate since his birthday was earlier this month. Miranda has been studying and learning all about him these past few weeks. She has always been a fan, but I think her admiration is growing.

I feel like time is literally racing these days. I am really enjoying my new job and am so glad I accepted this position at this stage in my life. Hats off to all the full-time working parents who manage to get it all done. Part-time work has got me FRAZZLED! However, I am getting into the groove of it all and already can tell that I am more productive in my off hours than I was before. I am also more present on my days with Miranda.

Speaking of which, our little rainbow is almost 5. WHAT THE HECK? Tomorrow morning, I will sign her up for kindergarten. She is bright and courageous and strong beyond her years. We have a visit with her birth mother this weekend. I wonder how the conversation will go. This precocious young girl is starting to ask "how people are made" and other such questions which we can answer and will, but M may need to fill in some blanks. 

Miranda is also asking more and more about death. On a recent car ride, we were talking about Allie's birthday next month. She asked if we were going to celebrate it. I said of course. Then she asked when she died. I was forced to say on the day she was born. Many questions then followed, and I was glad that I was driving and I did not have to look her in the face with my eyes full of tears. She deserves to know the truth, and I think she will know it sooner rather than later now.

I used to think that parenting after a loss was particularly hard. I now take that back. Parenting, in general, is hard. 

Miranda and I went away this weekend for the first time by ourselves. We shared a bed (which we had never done before), and we experienced some other "firsts" as well. My takeaway? I do not care how hard parenting is some days. I love it. I was made it to it. My other takeaway? Miranda needs her own bed. She kicked me all night long.

I am starting to fear my own mortality. I want to be around forever. I want to do and be everything that Miranda needs to be. And I want to be alive to keep Allie's memory alive.

In Harry Potter, there is the idea of a "Horcrux." Essentially, they are objects that hold pieces of your soul so you can never die. Now in the books, they are evil, and I won't say much more in case I was not the last person on Earth to read the series. I have to say I like the idea of a Horcrux for me. I like knowing that I could put a piece of my soul in various pieces of jewelry of picture frames or furniture pieces and live for as long as I was needed. 

Since that is not likely to happen, I just have to keep doing the best I can. And being the best I can. Some days I succeed. Some days I fail. I guess that's life, right?