3.16.2016

The First Birthday That Didn't Happen

I've dreaded this day. This day that could have been filled with the happy sounds and sights and smells of your first birthday. The giggles coming from your siblings, the decorations that would have been placed just so, the smell of cupcakes fresh out of the oven, the crinkling of wrapping paper and tissue paper being thrown about, the smiles on the faces of family and friends all gathered together to celebrate. But none of those things are happening.

Instead I've finally just sat myself down on the couch to write after having wrestled your older sisters to their own spaces for some rest time. The only sounds I hear are the dishwasher and the air conditioner running. The only things I see are all the chores that need doing...floors unswept, laundry piling, toys mounding up. The only thing i feel is the hot sting of tears running down my cheeks and my nose is too stuffy to be able to smell anything at all.

It's not that I'm ungrateful. I really am so very, very grateful for today. I'm grateful for the two sisters and the new baby brother that our hive has. I'm grateful for the dishwasher and the air conditioner. I'm even grateful for the unswept floors, laundry piles, and toys. Well most of the toys anyway...those toys with batteries could be sent to the moon for all I care. So I'm not ungrateful. I just miss you. And I never even met you. 

I miss not ever hearing your precious two syllable newborn cry. I miss not ever smelling your sweet newborn head. I miss not ever touching your baby soft skin. I miss not ever holding you outside of my own body. It's a strange feeling to miss something that you never even had. 

Some people think that I never had you anyway. To them you weren't really a baby. Well you know what? Those people don't matter. You were real. You were...you are...my baby. There's no one that will convince me otherwise. 

You were due on March 16, 2015, the day before your Nana's birthday. There's no real way for me to know if you were a boy or a girl, but when I think of you, which is really quite often, I always think of you as my little girl. My Lucy. 

You have taught me many, many things. To cherish each moment, to replace complaining with joy, to love more, to read "just one more book," to be more compassionate to others who have walked this path. Most importantly you have taught me that I'm not the one in control...that God is in control of every single thing. Ok, I always knew this, but you made me flesh it out. You made me relinquish complete control to Him. Thank you for that. Life is so much better this way...His way. Not that life is better without you, but life is better because of you. 

As sorrowful as it is for me here without you on this side of heaven, I am so, so, so overjoyed knowing that you are with Jesus. It makes my heart feel joyous that one day I will get to see you and meet you. Several years ago, when I was speaking with your great grandmother Eudell, I asked her why she thought that God allowed babies to die. You know what she told me? She said, "well heaven sure would be boring if it were all old people." I had no idea how much our conversation that day would mean to me. Especially now that I have lost you. I like to think that as soon as you got to heaven that God introduced you to your great grandmother Eudell. And Lord only knows what she's taught you already. 

So today is your first birthday, my sweet Lucy. Thank you for changing my life in more ways than I could begin to list here. Thank you for sending your little brother here for us to love and cherish. I am positive that he is an angel that you hand selected for our family. Your older sisters know all about you, and I will be sure to tell your little brother all about you too. Happy birthday, darling baby. I will light a candle for you tonight. I love you so much.