Levity

A lot of what I write is bogged down in self reflective sorrow and grief. For obvious reasons, of course. Many times I hesitate to write a more up beat post because the maternal guilt I harbor stops me, reminding me I am grief-stricken. And I am, I am. But I'm also so privileged to witness another human being paving their way in this world. Greeting each new encounter with the same level of excitement and curiosity. She's not jaded, she's not bitter, she's porcelain skin innocent. Her father and I watched her today as she realized that crawling is not reserved just for retrieval, but for travel. We watched her place hand after tiny hand in front of herself, lifting her knees with slight trepidation, showing us that indeed, this IS new and scary and exciting all at the same time. She looked up at us as if to ask, "Am I doing this right?" and we reassured her "Yes! Go Helena! Yes!!". As she giggled and gurgled down the hallway, we saw the delight wash over her face when she realized in an instant that she can chase after her siblings. Cheeks smooshed up to her ears, baring all eight teeth, our baby girl began forging her way through this world. We encouraged her to follow, we assisted when she nearly ran into the wall. But mostly we sat on the sidelines, hearts bursting, laughter echoing, as our daughter made her way.
It is in moments like today, where everything is okay, pain subsides, the void almost full.

Shining Light

Everyone is always telling me they're amazed at my strength. At how I manage to hold myself together when something so devastating as losing a child forced itself upon my world. I appreciate peoples' genuine admiration in that regard. It's nice that friends and family notice that I actively try to keep my head above water. It means I'm mostly successful at it, which in turn, means I'm somehow managing to meet my kids' needs.
The 26th came and went nearly as fast as Lucie did. The night before, I looked over old photos of their birth. I realized, I never got to look into her eyes. I'm sure they were just as blue as her sister's. They bring to mind tiny robin's eggs and spring moving in where the cold once presided. When you look into Helena's eyes, you are immediately rejuvenated; any clouds clear and the sun shines on green budded trees of your soul. Ironically, Helena's name literally means "sun ray or shining light". We never planned that. It just happened. Equally by chance, her middle name Grace, means "blessing". Indeed.