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My Sweet Angel

My Sweet Angel
4/6/09 4:45 pm 4 lbs 1 oz 17 inches

Sunday, July 21, 2013

Unexpected Moments of Reflection

Tonight I was blessed with something I never get...alone time!  Being the mom of 4 physical children ranging in age from 3-17 is a generally busy job.  To get a break I usually have to leave the house and get into something.  Tonight my oldest carted the younger 3 to visit my dad leaving me home alone in an empty house.  I didn't know what to do with myself!  I cleaned up some (nothing major!) and even took a little nap on the couch watching TV that I wanted to watch, but then the first hour was over and I still had 3 more!  I was thinking how ironic it was that I was bored without those children I always complain never give me a moment to myself.  I naturally thought of Elise, one of my children, but not one who tugs on my pant legs or yells Mommy from the other side of the house.  This lead to thinking about all the events surrounding her pregnancy and death and the four years since. 
Of course I wonder who she would be today.  What would she look like?  What would she be into?  Would she be rotten or a sweetheart?  Would I have spoiled her the way I did her rainbow baby sister, making her rotten?  Would she be excited to be going to preschool this year?  Would she wake up at the crack of dawn or be a good sleeper?  Would she like fruit and vegetables or pizza and pasta?  So many things I wonder about her
Then there are those other things I wonder about...How would my life be different had she been born perfectly healthy as I had expected?  So much changed in April of 2009.  So much more than the death of my daughter.  I was forever changed.  I wonder, would I still be oblivious to so many of the horrors of life?  Would I still be where I am staring down turning 36 in a few weeks?  I promised to never taint Elise's blog with the other events of that time or the events that have followed, but they have all changed my relationship with so many people.  Some for the best, some not.  I've met people I never would have met if everything that happened in 2009 and since didn't happen.  I've fought with people I wouldn't have fought with if I wasn't who I was because of that time in my life.  I've come to love people I wouldn't love if my life course wasn't what it was.  Who knows if those things still would have happened.  NONE of them are because of Elise, just around her and part of my dealings with her death.  I just can't help but wonder what if.  And sometimes still, those what ifs bring me to my knees with tears in my eyes. 
I guess this is why I stay so busy all the time.  It's those unexpected moments of down time when I start to reflect on the last 4 years that my heart just hurts and I can't contain the tears and the knot in my stomach.  I miss you my sweet Elise and all that your life would have brought to this world!

Monday, July 1, 2013

A big sister remembers

My oldest daughter wrote this on October 1, 2011.  I just came across it on her Facebook page recently and thought I'd share it here.  She was only 12 when we lost Elise.  As the years go on, the loss of her little sister affects her more and more...

Needless to say, yesterday was a rough day. For a lot of reasons. And of course, sitting in drama, someone decides to read this as a monologue. Literally brought tears to my eyes.

Elizabeth Childers

DUST of my dust,
And dust with my dust,
O, child who died as you entered the world,
Dead with my death!
Not knowing Breath, though you tried so hard,         
With a heart that beat when you lived with me,
And stopped when you left me for Life.
It is well, my child. For you never traveled
The long, long way that begins with school days,
When little fingers blur under the tears   
That fall on the crooked letters.
And the earliest wound, when a little mate
Leaves you alone for another;
And sickness, and the face of Fear by the bed;
The death of a father or mother;  
 Or shame for them, or poverty;
The maiden sorrow of school days ended;
And eyeless Nature that makes you drink
From the cup of Love, though you know it’s poisoned;
To whom would your flower-face have been lifted?  
 Botanist, weakling? Cry of what blood to yours?—
Pure or foul, for it makes no matter,
It’s blood that calls to our blood.
And then your children—oh, what might they be?
And what your sorrow? Child! Child!   
Death is better than Life!

I don't think anyone will understand the meaning of that monologue, I don't even think the girl reading it knew what it was about. And hey, maybe its not even about what I think its about, but isn't that the beauty of poetry?
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