Wednesday, September 24, 2014

We miss our girl.

I'm in Edmonton at the Stollery hospital with Felix and Vincent. Walking in here and the smell of microsan hand sanitizer brings Eva back to me like nothing else. 


Vincent has an appointment in urology.

Felix is getting an echo and EKG in cardiology.



He has a small hole in his heart. Not likely to be a problem but the cardiologist would see him in six months to check again. I have mixed emotions. Felix is likely fine and if it weren't for Eva we would never know...and I feel so so sad that Eva never got an EKG or an echo until she was so sick.

On the cardiology unit. I miss my girl. This hallway, where I spent so much time with her and hoped to continue spending time with her. I miss my girl.


The grief comes back to me here. The love comes back to me here. I miss my girl.

Vincent sees the elevators and being the emergent reader that he is he notices Eva's name...something I never have...



See it now?



Nobody knows how much I miss my girl because nobody knows how much I love my girl. That's why grief is so lonely for everyone.

There is a pink ribbon of pain that flows through my soul. There are blues and yellows and greens and reds of joy but the pink ribbon of grief and pain and love flows through every single aspect of my life. Pink. And also invisible. While the rainbow assortment of joyful colours clamour for attention, the pink silently binds my heart. I miss my girl.

The intensity of our grief is in direct relation to the intensity of our love. I miss my girl.

On the road home Mike and I drive in silence. Each nursing our own lonely grief and love. Because even with the only other person who loved Eva as much as the other, the road of grief is lonely. 

Mike says he always misses Eva most driving home from Edmonton because she would have come every single time for checkups. Eva and Edmonton are always intertwined in our hearts and it's always sad and strange and emotionally exhausting to go there.

We miss you so much our little princess Eva. You were the sparkle in our day. We miss our girl.






Saturday, September 20, 2014

Thirty seven.

My birthday again. I hate my birthday. I really don't care about growing older. That's just fine. And it's not so bad anymore but three years ago I completely ignored my birthday.nwondered how I could ever have a happy birthday again. And while it's true, it's also not completely true. I can be happy again. I enjoyed the leaves that are always beautiful on my birthdays going for a little drive to enjoy them. But it's the darkest time right now. There are no memories of Eva at this time of year. She never got to see the leaves change colour or eat even one bite of my birthday cake, and I feel sad.

And this year it seemed to hit me harder. How just missing she is. How forever not here she is. The longing, it never ends. 

I bought myself a cake and, as I do every year, I put the candles on my cake. One for each of my precious children. I blew them out and wished the impossible wish...then we relit them and the kids got one on each of their slices. It was fun and it was nice that Eva's candle was lit. But, man, as she gets older I almost miss her more, if that's even possible. The little almost four year old who would be totally into cake.

So without further ado...happy birthday to me.


Getting old...a privilege denied to many.

Monday, September 15, 2014

Three years plus one month.

Sometimes looking at pictures of Eva give me comfort and sometimes I want to tear all the photos off the walls because it just hurts too damn much to look at that sweet face that once was mine and not be able to hold her.



Three years plus one month. 37 months. 

She should be turning four next month. Going to preschool this month. It's all just too damn much. 

Felix is nine days old. The second little brother who has life because his sister died. He has brown eyes. Chocolate eyes as we call them in our family. Nathan has eyes of the bluest blue. As if they bottled rain. His sisters eyes staring out of his face. 

I am back to my early moments of grief today. But I do know that the edges of my pit are not quite as steep as they were three years ago. The darkness is not without light.

But it's amazing how hard it can hit even three years down the road. How much I still and always miss my little girl so badly. 


Monday, September 8, 2014

Felix has arrived. Caution trigger newborn photos.

Felix was born Saturday September 6th. He is a joyful blessing. We are grateful to have him and that he was born alive. He was born 124 years to the day after his great grandfather 1890 to 2014. 

I was so happy his Oma wore this special shirt when she came to see him in the hospital. 



We are grateful for our blessings but we continue to miss the little big sister that watches from above.

Felix was born at 41 weeks 6 days. It was hard to go that long as my emotions warred against each other. Knowing increased risk and how horrible that 'risk' could be. And also knowing that if all went well it was better for our littlest one to be in as long as he needed to be. 

Here are a few pics of his first days...


Visits from his two biggest brothers


With Dad.


Getting an EKG thanks to his big sister. All looks good so far.


Ready to go home.


A double rainbow.


Home with the family.


With his tired mama.














Thursday, September 4, 2014

Home

Vincent came home off the bus yesterday from his second day in grade one. I had missed him and hugged him hard. It felt good to feel his little body against mine. It was in the moment if holding him that I realized how much I had missed him during the day. As I held him the day melted away and I was just happy he was home again.





I can only imagine how I will feel on the day I get to hold my little girl against me again. How the years of missing her will melt away. Oh, how I long for that day and the happiness of just being home.