Dear Evangeline,
Halloween is just around the corner. I can't help but wonder how cute you would have looked in your duck costume. I wish I could make little duck quacking noises to make you giggle. I'm sure you would have loved that.
Every year I'll imagine what costume you would have chosen. Would you choose princesses like your big sister, or maybe animal costumes, or even something spooky? What would be your favorite treat?
As I sit out on the porch on Halloween night this year I'll be wishing you were there with me. It'll be hard for me to watch siblings trick-or-treating together because I'll never watch my two beautiful girls together. I'm sure I'll also cringe everytime a tiny little baby strolls by in costume with their momma. That should be you and me, my sweet girl. The smile I put on my face from seeing the kids in their costumes will just be my mask to cover up my sad, tearful face from missing you.
I miss you so much everyday.
Love you forever,
Mommy
Wednesday, October 30, 2013
Thursday, October 24, 2013
Limbo
I attended a catholic high school and can vividly remember sitting in theology class my sophomore year. My teacher, our priest, was talking about the importance of baptism. He explained the sacrament and then went on to explain the thought that babies who aren't baptized do not go to heaven, but instead go to a place called limbo... There is happiness in limbo, but no presence of Jesus like in heaven. Then he talked about how people who have never heard of Jesus or religion could still go to heaven on the premise that if they would have been baptized had they known of religion and baptism, then they can be saved and go to heaven.
My hand shot up in the air. "Father, that makes no sense. You're saying that little babies who aren't baptized go to limbo, but adults who don't know about religion can go to heaven if they would've been baptized had they known about it.... Maybe those babies would've been baptized had they known about baptism too. Why should they not be sent to heaven too?"
He stopped and stood deep in thought for a few minutes, then said, "You know what Robyn, you're right. It really doesn't make much sense when you think about it like that..."
I don't really remember what else was said but I remember that part so clearly.
Looking back I like to think that somehow I was defending my daughter. Evangeline was not baptized before she died; she died before she was born. Why should she be denied heaven? I'm so glad I wasn't afraid to question it. Now I can at least feel like I stood up for her and all little babies.
In the hospital, after she was born sleeping we did have her baptized. We held her as the holy water was poured over her head, hugged her, kissed her, and cried. This was not because we thought she wouldn't go to heaven without it. Honestly, for me, a big part of it was because I felt she still deserved the attention and love she would have gotten had she been born alive.
After I graduated from high school the Catholic Church rejected the idea of limbo altogether, and I'm so glad they did. No parent with a broken heart from losing their child should be made to believe their child can't go to heaven.
My hand shot up in the air. "Father, that makes no sense. You're saying that little babies who aren't baptized go to limbo, but adults who don't know about religion can go to heaven if they would've been baptized had they known about it.... Maybe those babies would've been baptized had they known about baptism too. Why should they not be sent to heaven too?"
He stopped and stood deep in thought for a few minutes, then said, "You know what Robyn, you're right. It really doesn't make much sense when you think about it like that..."
I don't really remember what else was said but I remember that part so clearly.
Looking back I like to think that somehow I was defending my daughter. Evangeline was not baptized before she died; she died before she was born. Why should she be denied heaven? I'm so glad I wasn't afraid to question it. Now I can at least feel like I stood up for her and all little babies.
In the hospital, after she was born sleeping we did have her baptized. We held her as the holy water was poured over her head, hugged her, kissed her, and cried. This was not because we thought she wouldn't go to heaven without it. Honestly, for me, a big part of it was because I felt she still deserved the attention and love she would have gotten had she been born alive.
After I graduated from high school the Catholic Church rejected the idea of limbo altogether, and I'm so glad they did. No parent with a broken heart from losing their child should be made to believe their child can't go to heaven.
Wednesday, October 23, 2013
Sunday, October 20, 2013
Missing out
Yesterday we went to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire. It's become a yearly tradition in our household. I love the food, the shows and the overall atmosphere. But this year, even though I had a great time with Ryan and Mariah, I couldn't help but think about how I should be pushing Evangeline in her stroller... She will never get to experience this fun family tradition with us.
She didn't get to have any memories with us, and the only memories we have with her are cradling her lifeless body while still in shock.
I don't think that part will ever get any easier.
She didn't get to have any memories with us, and the only memories we have with her are cradling her lifeless body while still in shock.
I don't think that part will ever get any easier.
Thursday, October 17, 2013
Daddy's girl
Dear Evangeline,
On Tuesday we attended an event to remember you and all babies gone too soon. Daddy, Mariah and I wrote little love notes to you, placed them inside balloons and sent them up to you in heaven when your name was announced. When your daddy grabbed a pen and jotted down a note to you my heart simultaneously filled with love and broke into a million pieces. I'm not sure what he wrote to you, but I know it was filled with love.
You have such a good daddy. It hurts me so much that all he gets to do is send you love notes, and the two of you don't get to spend time together here. Your daddy was always good at getting your big sister to giggle when she was a baby, and I know he would've made you giggle too. He held you so gently when you were born, and talked to you with so much love. I wish I could watch you two snuggle together. I know you would be daddy's girl just like your big sister.
Daddy doesn't talk about you much. I know it's because he doesn't want to make me sad, but I'm sure he thinks about you everyday. The other week he told me we should eventually start an organization in your memory to help other families. That showed me that he really does think about you often, and I'm sure he hurts just as much as I do. I hope you and daddy both know that I would've done anything to give you two more time together. You deserve to be daddy's girl... And I know you always will be daddy's special baby girl, but I wish you could be daddy's girl here with him.
Love you forever,
Mommy
On Tuesday we attended an event to remember you and all babies gone too soon. Daddy, Mariah and I wrote little love notes to you, placed them inside balloons and sent them up to you in heaven when your name was announced. When your daddy grabbed a pen and jotted down a note to you my heart simultaneously filled with love and broke into a million pieces. I'm not sure what he wrote to you, but I know it was filled with love.
You have such a good daddy. It hurts me so much that all he gets to do is send you love notes, and the two of you don't get to spend time together here. Your daddy was always good at getting your big sister to giggle when she was a baby, and I know he would've made you giggle too. He held you so gently when you were born, and talked to you with so much love. I wish I could watch you two snuggle together. I know you would be daddy's girl just like your big sister.
Daddy doesn't talk about you much. I know it's because he doesn't want to make me sad, but I'm sure he thinks about you everyday. The other week he told me we should eventually start an organization in your memory to help other families. That showed me that he really does think about you often, and I'm sure he hurts just as much as I do. I hope you and daddy both know that I would've done anything to give you two more time together. You deserve to be daddy's girl... And I know you always will be daddy's special baby girl, but I wish you could be daddy's girl here with him.
Love you forever,
Mommy
Monday, October 14, 2013
Sigh
I see you.. Not in your crib, in my memories.
I hold you... Not in my arms, in my heart.
This is just not how it is supposed to be...
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Sisters are Forever
Dear Evangeline,
Even though you are not here with us, I want you to know what a good big sister you have. Mariah thinks about you often and doesn't hesitate to remind us of your importance in her life. She is the best big sister in the world. I know you would be proud.
Your big sister loves to feel like she's spending time with you. She plays with her toys in your room and gives you a cup of tea when she gives me one. We blew bubbles outside while wearing our shirts with your name on the back, and when we came inside she drew a picture of bubbles and had me hang it in your room because she knew you would like it.
She is also very protective of you. The other week your Grammy came over to visit. She asked Mariah where her bumblebee pillow was and Mariah yelled, "No, you can't have it! It's for Evangeline!" Your Grammy didn't understand, but I remembered Mariah putting it in your crib days before because she said you needed a pillow. She also calls you her baby and says when she grows up she wants to be your mommy.
We went to a remembrance walk for you the other week and Mariah was such a proud big sister. I let her wear the big sister shirt she never got to wear and she loved it. No matter what, she IS a big sister... But I was always too afraid to have her wear that shirt and have people ask questions. At that event I knew everyone would understand and she could feel like the proud big sister she is. Mariah got her face painted at the walk and she asked for a star and a heart. I felt like she picked those out just for you. Stars remind me of you, and hearts show our love for you.
You will always be an important part of our lives and Mariah will always be your proud big sister.
We miss you everyday.
Love you forever,
Mommy
Even though you are not here with us, I want you to know what a good big sister you have. Mariah thinks about you often and doesn't hesitate to remind us of your importance in her life. She is the best big sister in the world. I know you would be proud.
Your big sister loves to feel like she's spending time with you. She plays with her toys in your room and gives you a cup of tea when she gives me one. We blew bubbles outside while wearing our shirts with your name on the back, and when we came inside she drew a picture of bubbles and had me hang it in your room because she knew you would like it.
She is also very protective of you. The other week your Grammy came over to visit. She asked Mariah where her bumblebee pillow was and Mariah yelled, "No, you can't have it! It's for Evangeline!" Your Grammy didn't understand, but I remembered Mariah putting it in your crib days before because she said you needed a pillow. She also calls you her baby and says when she grows up she wants to be your mommy.
We went to a remembrance walk for you the other week and Mariah was such a proud big sister. I let her wear the big sister shirt she never got to wear and she loved it. No matter what, she IS a big sister... But I was always too afraid to have her wear that shirt and have people ask questions. At that event I knew everyone would understand and she could feel like the proud big sister she is. Mariah got her face painted at the walk and she asked for a star and a heart. I felt like she picked those out just for you. Stars remind me of you, and hearts show our love for you.
You will always be an important part of our lives and Mariah will always be your proud big sister.
We miss you everyday.
Love you forever,
Mommy
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Emptiness
There is such a sense of emptiness after pregnancy. When my older daughter Mariah was born I found that I missed being pregnant. I missed feeling her little feet kick at my insides. It was so nice to feel her in the comfort of my womb. I felt like I could protect her and comfort her in there like nobody else could. I missed that so much, but at least I had my sweet, snuggly baby to love on, so as much as I missed feeling her kicks, it certainly wasn't a downer.
After Evangeline was born sleeping I again had those feelings of missing her little movements inside my belly. But this time, on top of the normal feelings, I also had this huge emptiness. Now I walk around and can literally feel how empty my womb is... That hollowness, that there is nothing in there occupying its space. That might sound weird, because after Mariah was born my belly went back to normal and I didn't notice either way what was going on in there... But now the emptiness is really apparent to me.
I don't know if it's that I'm much more in tune with my body, or just the simple fact that I miss it a million times more because she isn't here, but I feel empty. This emptiness really does a number on bringing me down. I don't want to replace Evangeline, and nothing ever will... But I sure would like to feel like there is a little baby growing in there, instead of just the emptiness that I feel now.
After Evangeline was born sleeping I again had those feelings of missing her little movements inside my belly. But this time, on top of the normal feelings, I also had this huge emptiness. Now I walk around and can literally feel how empty my womb is... That hollowness, that there is nothing in there occupying its space. That might sound weird, because after Mariah was born my belly went back to normal and I didn't notice either way what was going on in there... But now the emptiness is really apparent to me.
I don't know if it's that I'm much more in tune with my body, or just the simple fact that I miss it a million times more because she isn't here, but I feel empty. This emptiness really does a number on bringing me down. I don't want to replace Evangeline, and nothing ever will... But I sure would like to feel like there is a little baby growing in there, instead of just the emptiness that I feel now.
Saturday, October 5, 2013
My Reality
I just want my 1950s tv sitcom family. You know, the happy ones who sit there and eat dinner together and nothing bad is going on in their lives....
The last five and a half years have been a struggle for me... I have had to overcome a lot of personal struggles, things most people don't know about me. There were many times I just wanted to throw in the towel... But I always hoped it would get better. Then, five months ago, just as I was finally starting to feel like everything in my life was finally looking up, BAM, my daughter dies.
I don't understand how I deserve all of the stuff I've had to face in the past 5 years... Why can't I have that perfect family life I want? The one where I am a perfect tv mom, with a perfect tv husband and both of my beautiful girls sitting at the dinner table with me...
I hate where I'm at right now.
The last five and a half years have been a struggle for me... I have had to overcome a lot of personal struggles, things most people don't know about me. There were many times I just wanted to throw in the towel... But I always hoped it would get better. Then, five months ago, just as I was finally starting to feel like everything in my life was finally looking up, BAM, my daughter dies.
I don't understand how I deserve all of the stuff I've had to face in the past 5 years... Why can't I have that perfect family life I want? The one where I am a perfect tv mom, with a perfect tv husband and both of my beautiful girls sitting at the dinner table with me...
I hate where I'm at right now.
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