The flashbacks are like a movie playing in my mind most days. 3D has nothing on my memories. I’m taken straight back to February. 11 short months ago. I remember what the cramps felt like. I remember curling into a ball in my bed begging the pain to stop. I remember my best friend calling and telling me that she thought I was in labour. I remember the look on the doctor’s face. I remember the look on my dad’s face when I got off the elevator after the ultrasound confirmed my worst nightmare (the thought is bringing tears to my eyes as I write this). I remember wailing for her, and apologizing to everyone for being unable to do what a mother is supposed to. I remember not wanting to tell anyone what had happened. I remember holding her tiny 5lb1oz body for the first and last time. I remember them wheeling her crib out of the room, knowing I would never hold her again.
11 months seems like it has passed in the blink of an eye, and crawled by, all at the same time.
When I found out I was pregnant again, I knew it wouldn’t be an easy nine months. Between worrying about people’s reactions (because contrary to a lot of opinion, this pregnancy won’t ‘fix’ me) and constant concern over what’s happening inside of my stretching stomach, it’s been extraordinarily draining and stressful. And I still have 21 weeks to go.
People tell me it’s going to be ok. They’re trying to be reassuring; they tell me to think positive. But it doesn’t help. I got a lot of “this Christmas will be hard, but next Christmas will be different”. But how do they know? It’s hard for my mind not to wander to that dark place. Because in my experience, when I’m pregnant, the baby dies. I don’t know what a happy ending feels like.
Everlee is a big sister. These words make me weak in my knees. So many emotions. More than I am able to express in any sort of tangible way. I am so excited. But I am so incredibly scared. What if it happens again? What if something goes wrong? What if people forget about Everlee? That’s the big one – The fear that I haven’t been able to put into words. That’s the reason I haven’t been able to write much. My excitement is overwhelming, but my heart aches from missing my little girl.
While there are no guarantees, no promises, I know this baby is a gift – My very own rainbow. My rainbow that deserves its own excitement, of hopes and dreams. I have been repressing all of my excitement out of fear. This baby deserves better than that, and that’s not how I want to remember Everlee either, with fear. Not everyone gets a rainbow, and I have to be thankful for that, thankful that my little girl gets to be a big sister.
Happy 11 month birthday, beautiful little girl.
This is an especially beautiful post Rhonda. Typing at Starbucks so I’ll keep it short – no one who matters will ever forget Everlee Rose and a life without risk is no life at all. Hang in there.
Beautifully put Heather. Life without risk is no life at all is so true. Happy Birthday Everlee. You will never be forgotten, Ever.
Stay strong Rhonda and Darcy.
Love Aunt Mary.
PAL is so incredibly hard. I started a ‘rainbow blog’ separate from my grief blog to chronicle the struggles of it. It isn’t easy, but it is worth it. Things don’t get easier, they just get different and we handle them differently. Xoxo