Tuesday, February 26, 2013

This isn't the life...

This isn't the life I thought I would have.
Sometimes I lie in bed and look out the window to the expanse of snow covered fields.
The whiteness envolopes me.
I wonder how this could be my life.
It's sure not what I expected it to be.
So many good things.

I have a husband.
I have a house.
I live in the country.
I have horses.
I have loud sons running in the halls (I always envisioned a daughter).
I have a daughter. In Heaven.
I am going to have a daughter here on earth when and if the adoption ever goes through.
I am pregnant for the fifth time (never, ever in a million years thought I'd be pregnant 5 times!).

I grew up in the city.
I played in alleys.
I was an out-of-control little rebel.
It's a miracle I never drank or did alot of drugs.
I treeplanted in mud and sleet and snow and what felt like hell.
I taught snowboarding in Whistler (another miracle that I never really got into the drug scene).

And over all this I look at my Eva.
Stare at her blue eyes gazing back at me.
I never thought my life would turn out like this.
This grieving.
These tears that come unbidden.
This rage that surfaces when I least expect it.
This ever-longing.

This emotional roller coaster of anger and sadness, and some joy. This constant longing for someone I've missed longer than I've known. This looking at other little girls the same age as Eva would be and wondering what she would look like...knowing that this child I am looking at is not my daughter. Does not look like my daughter would look like, but the ache is there.

I find 10 month old babies especially hard to handle. Knowing that I happily approached the 10 month mark, but never passed it. See those little 10 month old babies grow and surpass my daughter. Never to be younger than her ever again.

All these things I never thought I'd think. This life I never thought I would live. This constant ache despite the joy. And yet, my Eva was a joy. A true joy. And her smile reflected her inner joy. Had she lived I think she would have been a joyful child here. Always looking at the bright side.

What does she look like in heaven? And I know that when the time comes for me to cross to the other side I will know her. There will be no question, I will know her. My daughter.

What I wouldn't do just for a glimpse . A glimpse today. A glimpse of my precious girl.







13 comments:

  1. I saw a quote on Facebook that says after you lose a child you look at your life as "before" and "after". How true.

    I know that I've probably read about it, but please forgive me because I have forgotten, but how did that baby come to pass who is living in your home? I think the one that you speak of that you are going to adopt?

    Blessings,
    Cheryl

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    1. Little J is in what is referred to as kinship care. She is a pretty distant relative of my husband's. She was in foster care but moved in with us March 3 2011. She was in respite care while Eva was sick and for awhile after she died. Barring that time she has been living with us for 2 years. But the actual adoption seems to take forever.

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  2. oh for a glimpse. And a lifetime. xoxo

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    1. The lifetime will come. One day.

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  3. I found your post so hard to read so I read it twice and twice I found myself nodding in sad agreement. Everything I have I am incredibly thankful for all the roads that brought Me here could have lead me somewhere else. I have the most wonderful boy- but I look at him sometimes and think if she was still here I wouldn't have you it breaks my heart over and over again to know I can never have one without the other. I wish I understood why and I wish I could see her again just too see what she looks like just to see her as a lovely 4 year old I knew she would have been

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    1. That's exactly right Sally. It's one or the other. And how can you choose...and yet, I would not have chosen this road. I thank God I am not in control.

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  4. I see babies who are around 18 months now and they're like little people. But it's painful, painful, painful to see brand.new.babies. Because that is what I lost. . .No, not my life. I never imagined that this would be my life.

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  5. I don't think anyone of us could say this is the exact life I imagined. All of life has its joys, blessings, heartaches and pain. I am so thankful I have a God who takes such loving care of me...and you too! (And I am not minimizing in any way the pain of losing Eva, or the other pain in the lives of others.)

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    1. Beccy, I know you've had your share of troubles. I don't think you're minimizing the loss of Eva. It's just so unfathomable isn't it...how God works. I wish I could understand.

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  6. And I am so looking forward to your pink or blue news! :)

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  7. "This life I never thought I would live." I told someone yesterday our whole story of miscarriages and stillbirth and all I could think was: who is this woman with this pitiful life? It is not really pitiful, I know, but it is immeasurably sadder than any life I imagined for myself. And it doesn't seem fair. And it makes me mad. But it's mine, too, and she was in it and I love her, so...

    Love to you and Eva and all your family, to the life you're living.

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