A Grief Update

We went to the beach a few weeks ago and it was perfect.  A lovely little family vacation, familiar yet new though E's eyes.

One evening at high tide, my husband and I walked down to the beach and sprinkled some of Violet's ashes into the waves.  It was the most beautiful, symbolic thing as nature swept her away from me, once again.  I wrote her name in the sand and took this picture seconds before the waves you see washed that away, too.  We collected some sand to take home and on the walk back to the cottage, hand in hand, we found the most perfect, teeny, tiny little white conch shell.  A treasure.

I have always had a compelling draw to the ocean but now it's more meaningful.  My baby is there.  My baby is everywhere.

I feel much more in control of my grief lately.  I visit it like an old friend, an obligation.  I take a deep breath and look at her pictures and videos and allow myself to feel it intensely some times so that it doesn't sneak in with its tangled grip and pull me under (as often, anyway).

I feel a lot more sane now that the first trimester hormones have subsided.  Not only was I sick and tired, but I was SAD.  I was sad in a scary, overwhelming way.  I feel like me again.  Well, the after-V-me.

I'm allowing myself to start to get excited about this new baby in subtle ways, too.  I have unconsciously suppressed the thoughts of the end result (a healthy baby that comes home) to just concentrate on what we have now (a tiny little one hidden in my belly, just starting to make itself known through movements).  In that regard, Violet taught me to live in the moment.  That was how I had to survive her pregnancy and our time with her.  There was no thinking ahead or preparing.

But I also can't allow myself to be limited in the moment this time because (most likely, I keep adding adverbs, probably, all signs point to yes, most likely I will have the end result that most pregnant women take for granted) we have a baby to prepare for that will MOST LIKELY come home and need items here in its home.  In a month, we find out the gender and my husband is suggesting gently that we start talking about what needs done to the extra bedroom, where the baby items are stored, etc.

Oh, rainbow baby, this is all so bittersweet.  You are so intertwined with your sister V and her story, but you should be.  All siblings should be, whether they grow up side by side or not.  You will never meet your sister and I'm so sorry for that.  I am terrified and overjoyed and somewhat healed by the thought of you.