I’ve been thinking about her a lot lately. This precious little thing, so beautiful – so full of life.
Imagine longing and planning for this sweet little pea, falling in love from the moment you saw her in your husband’s eyes. Knowing that together you were creating a legacy, a life… a family.
Watching her grow – that first smile (or maybe gas? no, that one was definitely a smile…), those big eyes that held the universe and their secrets.
She would have been 2 years old this month. And I think of her every day.
I can only begin to imagine how devastated her mother was when she passed unexpectedly – the doctors said 2 in a million. 2 IN A FUCKING MILLION. And it had to be her. She was 14 months old. And I think of her every day.
This sweet thing… she’s my daughter’s sister. Not my child, but oh – how I loved her.
I was growing one of my own at the time… my third. I remember the night Herself had to break the oldest’s heart, tell her that her sister was gone.
Herself always maintained a good (mostly) relationship with her ex and his wife… but I think – on this night – they became friends.
But how do you grieve for a child that is not yours? Months later? Who do you talk to? Who can you share with? Because who wants to hear about death and children – in the same sentence?
She’s expecting again. Another beautiful, sweet, precious little sister for my best girl. I see it in her eyes – the happiness and the devastation. The longing and the excitement. Wreaking havoc on her composure, every minute of every day.
Holding on to those little flutters of new life while grasping at the memory of a loved one lost.
To my dear friend I wish her all the luck in the world – the next few month might be the hardest of them all.
And as I listen to the baby breathe sweet dreams at night while Herself sleeps I remember that sweet little monkey-doo – and I miss her too.