Memories

I am at the hospital, waiting to deliver your baby brother tomorrow.  Everything is going very well, but being here brings back so many memories.  For the most part it's actually a positive experience for me - after all, this was the only place where I got to see and hold my beautiful, first born baby girl.  I have been looking forward to coming back to the same place where I got to meet you.  I feel a connection to you here, and I appreciate that the nurses remember me (and of course I remember them) from your birth.  At the same time, it is so sad to be here and to remember all that your dad and I went through.  

As we rode up to the L&D floor in the elevator today, I remembered my first ride in that elevator.  That day I stared at my feet the entire time, and the entire time we walked down the hallway.  I didn't want to see any balloons or flower arrangements or any signs of happy healthy babies.  (Of course I want people to have healthy babies; I just didn't want the reminders that they were being born around me.)  I walked into the delivery room and saw the warmer that you would never need and I just completely lost it.  I'll never forget that.

Tonight I am laying in a bed in the room next door to where you were born; in fact, it's the same room where your sister was born.  I remember when I was lying in your room I could hear a baby's heartbeat from a monitor in the room next door...and now, I'm listening to Arthur's heartbeat on a monitor in the room next door to your room.  

I'm so thankful for the healthy baby boy that I'm about to meet, and I'm very excited.  At the same time, I want you to know that I still cry for you and you are still so special to me.  I still love you so much, sweet Ada.  

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