3 years

Yesterday was Ada's third birthday - I can't believe it has been 3 years since I last held her.  Of course, we went to her beach at sunrise as usual to remember her on her birthday.

The day really wasn't hard at all.  In some ways that makes me sad, because it feels like I must love her less somehow.  I know that's not true though; it's just how grief is over time.  Eventually you get used to it and you can remember the person fondly without feeling much pain.  We enjoyed our time at the beach remembering her.

Another sibling

Dear Ada,

You are going to be a big sister - again!  I will be 18 weeks pregnant tomorrow and your little brother (well, we're pretty sure it's a brother) is due at the beginning of October.

I started to write this letter to you months ago, but I never finished the post.  I just realized that I have so many things I want to say, that I got overwhelmed and didn't even know where to begin.  So here's a second attempt.

I still miss you deeply.

I still love you deeply.

I still think of you all the time.

I love being pregnant, because it's the one time I can compare all 3 of my babies.  I can think about when I first felt you, when I first felt Eleanor, and when I first felt this baby.  I can put on a maternity shirt and think, "I wore this with all 3 of my babies."  When this baby is born he will share lots of things with Eleanor, but this is the one time in his life that he can share things with both of his sisters.  It might seem silly to others that I think about my children sharing my maternity clothes, but it's all I have.

I think about how lucky I am to have each of my babies.  You all teach me so much.

Today I took Eleanor to story time at the library.  The librarian acted out a story about a mother holding a little boy (well, a puppet in her case) in her lap.  The boy keeps getting all of his toys and adding them to his mother's lap, and then eventually his baby sister cries and the mama has to hold her too.  The boy is upset because he thinks there won't be any more room for him, but the story ended with something along the lines of, "That's the amazing thing about mother's laps - there's always room for one more."  I got teary eyed, maybe partly from pregnancy hormones, because I thought about how much I wish I could have one more baby in my lap.  I miss you, sweet girl.

Love,

Your mama

My fall baby

Tonight I looked at pictures of a friend's kid's birthday party.  Everything looked amazing and they had a really cute fall theme with pumpkins everywhere.  I had the silly thought, "Oh, I hope that one day we'll have a kid with a fall birthday because there's so much fun stuff in the fall!"  I love my own fall birthday, after all.

But wait!  I was supposed to have a fall baby.  Ada's due date was November 5, which is slowly creeping up on me.  She would be 2 this year just like the boy celebrating his birthday at this party.

My baby, my firstborn, should be 2.  All I have instead are lots of tears and an empty hole in my heart that nobody else will ever fill.  Eleanor has certainly healed the rawness of the hole - she is WONDERFUL and seriously amazes me every day - but there will always be a missing piece.

I miss you, Ada Elizabeth.

P.S. You have a brand new cousin who was born yesterday.  Her middle name is Elizabeth, too.  :)

My birthday

Today is my birthday and it has been a wonderful day.  We are on vacation in Puerto Rico and we went to a museum, drove along the coast, and explored some seaside cliffs and a cave.  We had about an hour drive back to our place in San Juan tonight.  It was dark, Eleanor was falling asleep to lullabies playing on my ipod, and there was a huge, beautiful full moon overhead.  (You know how the moon can be really big when it's first rising.)  The song "Somewhere Out There" came on (I wrote about it before) and I suddenly realized the one thing that was missing on this wonderful birthday.

My Ada.

This realization wasn't terribly hard and it didn't make me cry or anything, but it was just a sad moment.  I miss Ada and I just wish she could have been here to enjoy such a wonderful day with her father, her sister, and me.  She is a part of this family too. 

I miss you

My friend Stephanie, Malou's mama, writes her posts so beautifully and poetically. Somehow this post just wrote itself that way as well.  I hope she doesn't mind that I borrowed her style.  After all, imitation is the highest form of flattery.  ;)

Dear Ada,

I think of you every day.
There are so many reminders!

I remember you every time I see a butterfly go past.

Butterflies are a symbol of pregnancy loss
because they come into our lives
with all of their fragile beauty
and stay for such a brief period of time.

I see butterflies every day,
sometimes several times a day!
Your little sister
(who is growing to be quite big, by the way)
always notices them.
She also loves to point out the butterflies on her clothes
and on her car seat.
It makes me smile to see her get excited
over these beautiful creatures.

Butterflies often visit us
while she's swinging in the back yard.
I like to think that,
in a way,
you're out there with us too
enjoying the beautiful day.

I remember you when people see your sister and ask,
"Is she your first?"
I usually lie and say yes.
I feel guilty inside,
but I do it to avoid the awkward questions
and the uncomfortable looks.
And I think that deep down
I'm afraid
they don't think you should "count'.
But while I know that Eleanor may be my oldest,
she is not my first born.
The other day I was brave and told the truth
- that I have two daughters -
to some women I barely know.
It sounded easy to say in my head,
but it wasn't.
I cried.
A lot.
And I couldn't stop.
I think it had been too long since I had let myself cry.
This is why I don't usually tell the truth.

I remember you
when friends and family members remember you.
One friend asked me,
"Have you thought about having a third?"
I'm not used to hearing that!

Another friend mentioned that,
out of a group of us,
5 babies had been born or were on the way.
I counted the babies up several times,
but I kept coming up short.
Then I realized my friend actually included you!

I love it when others remember you too.
It's nice to know that I'm not the only one
besides your father
who was touched by your brief little life.

I remember you at silly times too.
Like when I go to the dentist.
ADA is written all over the place!
It stands for the American Dental Association, you know.

I love you, sweet girl.
I may not write on here often anymore.
I may not cry often anymore.
It may seem on the outside like life has gone on.
But that's not true.
Your beautiful
fragile
sweet little life
has changed me forever.

I miss you,
Ada Elizabeth.

Video about stillbirth

This simple little video addresses some of the crazy things that people say to you after losing a child. My favorite part is the response to "God just needed another angel in heaven."

(Warning: there is one bad word. You might not want to play this with kids in the room.)

Happy 2nd birthday, Ada

Today is Ada's 2nd birthday.  I can't believe it has been 2 years since I last saw or held my baby girl.  To remember her this morning, we visited the same beach at sunrise where her ashes were scattered.

Constant reminders

The other day I was talking to a friend who was telling me a story about a friend of hers with a kid.  I said, "How old is the girl?"  She replied, "Um, I think she'll be 2 in November."  That's how old Ada should have been.

When I was pregnant with Ada, I used to always see my pregnant neighbor out walking when I was on my way to work.  She was a few months ahead of me.  I didn't see her for about a week, and then suddenly she was pushing a tiny little baby in a pink stroller.  Today was the first time I've seen her since then, and she was pushing a 2-year-old little girl in a stroller.  That kid seemed huge!  I am a complete stranger to this neighbor, so she has no idea that the very sight of her child brings tears to my eyes.

I wonder if it's hard for some stranger to see Eleanor?  Am I that mom with a baby to somebody else?

Ada's birthday is 2 weeks from today. I love my baby that I get to hold every day, but I still miss her sister.

This is Eleanor checking out her sister's footprints.

And here's a picture of my growing girl!

A video tribute

I have been thinking about Ada a lot for the past few days and really missing her.  This seems to happen every month or two, and I'm actually kind of glad.  It lets me know that I haven't forgotten her, but at the same time I'm not incapacitated by my grief.  I listen to songs that remind me of her, talk to Hunter about her, and enjoy the baby that I do have more than anything.  I don't take her life for granted.

Eleanor's first birthday is coming up (as is Ada's second) and I have been working on making a video of her first year.  I discovered Windows Movie Maker and I've been having so much fun with it!  Yesterday I decided to use my new skills to make a video about Ada's life.  I tried to keep it brief because nobody wants to watch your 20 minute video, but also, this was pretty much all the material I had to work with.  I've been working hard to keep Eleanor's under 10 minutes, and I have HUNDREDS of pictures and videos to choose from.  Ada's has been much faster to make because there are so few pictures from that time.  There was no selection process involved.  (I made sure I took WAY more pictures when I was pregnant with Eleanor!)

So here it is:   Ada's life in 3 1/2 minutes.  I should add that my husband is weird about having his picture online so he made me crop him out of some pictures.  He really does exist, I promise!  :)

I still miss her

It's been nearly two years, and I have a beautiful baby that I get to hold and play with every day, but I still miss Ada.  I still cry for her.  I still mourn her.  I still think about her almost every day.

My life has certainly moved past where I was during those dark months after her death, and I am very happy these days.  (Besides the fact that I have mono and I'm trying to care for a 9-month-old...but that's another story!)  I love being a stay at home mom and raising Eleanor, but there's no amount of joy that Eleanor can bring to my life that can erase what we went through in July 2008.  Sometimes I feel like I have post traumatic stress disorder because I occasionally have flashbacks to that horrible ultrasound and every detail of the days the followed.  This usually happens at night when I'm trying to fall asleep or when I'm in the car alone.  Usually when this happens I just pause and think about Ada for a few minutes, but every once in a while it hits really hard and I weep for my baby.

I have a friend whose daughter is about a month younger than Ada should have been.  I see new pictures of her fairly often and I usually don't even think about Ada, but recently she posted one that was so cute and it just hit me:  I should have a toddler like that.  What would Ada look like at this point?  What would her smile look like?  What would she be able to say?  What things would she be scared of?  What would be her favorite toys and games?  I don't know, and I never will know.  It just hurts me that I can't have both of my girls.  I love them both.

On a side note, I have to add that the book that I wrote about in this post is probably Eleanor's favorite book.  She loves turning the pages while one of us reads it to her and she'll read it over and over again.  She also loves this book that Ada "gave" Hunter for Father's Day when I was 4 months pregnant.  She won't sit there for every book she has, but these 2 are winners.  Eleanor has good taste!  :)

Also, here are a few recent pictures of Ada's little sister...