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. 

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.

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.

Goodbye to my treasure

Three years ago yesterday my daughters body became ashes. People will say it was only her physical body but, you see, I dearly loved that sweet little body. I had kissed every inch of it and it housed one of my greatest treasures. My daughter. 

Three years ago today we celebrated her life and said goodbye to our treasure. 

I anticipate the day I will hold her again. I just can't wait. Loving my children here and grateful for every kiss and hug bestowed upon me but missing my precious daughter with every breath I take.

I bet it sounds impossible to you doesn't it...to miss someone with every breath and yet keep functioning and caring for my earthly people. But the truth is she is always there with me. Always on the periphery of my mind and in the center if my heart. 

Dear A, again.

Dear A,

I would so much to have been able to talk with you at some point over the last 2.5 years. Rather than write to you on my blog.

I once thought you were my friend.

You got pregnant shortly before Eva's death, which is really fine. I was happy for you.

You came over after her death and complained about your prenatal appointments.

You called me on the phone two and a half months after Eva's death and two weeks after what should have been Eva's first birthday to agonize over the details and the guest list of your breathing daughters birthday that was coming up.

You called me on the six month anniversary of Eva's death to tell me you were in labour and to pray for you. Without acknowledging the pain of that day for me you also said you were so happy baby wouldn't be born on valentines day. I said I hoped your baby would be born alive, which, under the circumstances, was the best thing I could say at that time. Now, two years later, I would manage more tact.

You basically never spoke to me again after that. I wrote you a couple of letters. I said hello to you if I saw you somewhere. I was met with an icy hello back, occasionally. I tried to meet with you with a mediator.  My sons kept asking to go over to your place or to have your son come here.

Looking back, I honestly wonder why I tried so hard. Clearly, you were not worth it.

But you showed up at Eva's ride 2012. I thanked you for coming.

My sons missed your son.

You still didn't speak to me but showed up again at Eva's ride in 2013. You also returned some girl clothes to me. Girl clothes my daughter would never wear. You invited my mom over for lunch. She raved about how well behaved your kids were. I admit it got under my skin. It felt like she was saying my kids were so bad and yours were so great. 

In the fall if 2013 we accidentally ended up at some school thing together that you had organized with local moms but had not invited us to. I guess we crashed the party accidentally. I don't remember all of it but I do remember you yelling at me very publicly that every time we talked I would bully you and to stay away from you. By that time I was done trying and would gladly stay away from you. 

You moved away and it was a breath of fresh air to not have to wonder if I would bump into you. To be able to tell my sons that you had moved away. Then you came back. 

I didn't know you were back until you showed up at Eva's ride 2014, again. I couldn't believe it. Why? Why were you there? The last words you said to me were to stay away from you...why did you show up at an event I would clearly be at? Honestly, it felt like some kind of show. Being able to tell people there you knew the little girl who died. That you were at her birth no less (oh that still bothers me, that 

you would have that sacred piece of Eva).

Then you said you were trying to reconnect with old friends and invited my son to your son's birthday party? Friends? Who? And my boys heard you...and wanted to go. I read between the lines and knew it was only Samuel you meant as an old friend and only Samuel you were inviting to the party. Not Vincent, the brother one year younger who also liked your son and who was also right there listening. On the way home I had to bite the bullet and just say I'm sorry but we just arent friends with those people anymore. You will not be going to his party.

And then your sons birthday passed and there was no follow through on the invitation. And while I breathed a sigh of relief I was also annoyed that you would invite him in earshot and then not follow through.

I let it go. Wasn't going to write you this letter...but then the phone rang. Your name popped up on call display and I froze. I let the answering machine pick up. Your son's voice on the phone (he sounds very grown up now). Inviting only Samuel to his birthday party on Tuesday August 26. 

August 26. A day no one remembers but me. The last day I would cradle Eva's body in my arms before her daddy would put her in the crematorium. Something no daddy should ever have to do for his little girl. 

No, I don't think Samuel will be able to make it. 

August 15 2014

Yesterday was awful and lovely in it's own way. 

I slept terribly from the 14th to the 15th. My body sensing the high alert I should have felt three years ago.

I managed to have a nap in the morning. Holly came over in the afternoon. I had planned supper the day before so I pretty much checked out as much as I could yesterday, while still maintaining a home with five children in it.

We had two candles burning for our princess all day.

We planted Eva's third and final tree in the late afternoon. 

Our family on earth by Eva's trees. Mike and I are pretty obvious. Kids from left to right. Samuel, Vincent, Josephina, Nathan, Theodore. If you look closely Samuel is holding a stone. That stone has a butterfly and Eva's name sandblasted onto it. It was a gift from a special friend and I treasure it.

And here are Eva's trees. Three trees for three years in heaven. The one on the left with a cage around it and a pinwheel next to it is a flaming maple that is beautiful in the fall around her birthday (first year). The one on the right is a flowering crabapple that has beautiful pink blossoms in the spring (second year) and the middle one in the back is the one we planted this year. A weeping birch. I wanted a weeping willow but birch works better in our climate. I felt it was important to have a weeping tree.

Something else happened yesterday that really rattled me and is the reason I didn't blog last night. 

Nathan was playing outside just before supper with the other kids. We lost a key to the lawn mower and I asked the kids to search the yard. They were searching when I heard crying outside. I went to check and Nathan was completely DRENCHED from head to toe. He had fallen in a kiddy pool of water. I talked to the kids later and not one of them had seen or heard him fall in. It is a miracle that he made it out to cry. Drowning is silent and if he hadn't cried I wouldn't have even missed him for at least another five or ten minutes. 

Later we were eating supper and Mike was tickling Nathan who was laughing and laughing. I could imagine all too well how different our night would have been if Nathan hadn't cried. I am not sure to what depths of insanity I would have sunk to if I had lost another one of my precious children on another August 15th.

I don't know how he got out of that pool. I can only imagine angels lifted him out because I've seen him fall under water in the bathtub once before for a split second before I lifted him out and there is no way he could have gotten himself out of that pool, fully dressed, scared, underwater, and screaming. 

The pool has since been flipped over and we will not fill it again this summer. Ironically it is for exactly this reason that we hadn't filled the pool this year. Two days ago was the first time we filled it all summer. 

Missing our little Eva so much but glad we do not have to miss our little Nathan too.

Day of Regrets

Today is not Eva's death day. Or more quaint and palatable, her Heaven day.

Today, August 14th is the Day of Regrets.

The day she was originally scheduled for her cardio follow up. The day I asked to be moved by one day so we could drive to Edmonton on a monday instead of a Sunday.

The day of regret.

I regret so much but what I regret the most is moving that appointment by one day.

August 14th. Day of Regret. It could be a national holiday it hurts so hard.