Simone's Birthday.

I don't know how my amazing midwife captured this photo, but I'm so glad she did. It's a cell phone picture, because in our rush to the hospital, we didn't grab for the camera.

The moment Simone was born. I treasure the love here, so much love.

Simone's birthday weekend was, surprisingly, pleasant. It was full of family time, connecting with each other, just as I'd hoped it would be. 

We decided to spend the day alone, our little family. This was important to me because I felt that we needed to focus on ourselves and not on comforting others in their grief. Gabriela was a little upset about this at first. It was really important to her that we at least invite our midwives, who helped us so much during and after Simone's birth.  My sweet six year old is always surprising me. 

Our dear midwives sent us messages though, letting us know how much they love our family and that they were thinking of us on Simone's birthday. We received flowers and notes, and so many messages of love over the weekend. Here's Simone's flower birthday cake from her Uncle Ian and Auntie Adie.

The days leading up to Simone's birthday were really difficult. I think between Gabriela, Lane and me, we all had some really rough moments. 

I awoke the night before, at just about the same moment my contractions woke me the year before. I really had to pee too, and it took me a long time to gather the courage to do it. To make that trip down my hallway to the bathroom, when I'd done the same exactly a year before, only to discover so much blood, now knowing that was all Simone's blood and likely, the moment she died inside of me. 

I made Lane a special coffee cake that morning. We measured the kids on our growth chart because they all would have gotten measured on Simone's birthday if she'd been alive. We do have her birth measurement on our chart.

That morning, Lane spotted a deer outside while checking out our garden. 

At 1:43 pm, we released a dozen butterflies outside by Simone's tree. Her tree did beautifully this year. We were getting worried that it was completely dormant looking still in March, when all the trees around us were in full bloom. As soon as April started though, our tree began to bloom. After Lane picked two blossoms to press, there was a single blossom left on her tree today. And, when we returned from the nursery to buy new plants, that last blossom had blown away. 

Releasing the butterflies was perfect and beautiful. It was a fun activity for the kids too. They oohed and ahhed over holding butterflies in their hands and gasped as they flew away. Then the butterflies would land on us, and we released some onto Simone's flower cake, where they could enjoy a yummy snack.   

After just spending time together (Lane and I gave Gabriela and Easton manicures and pedicures), building with blocks and reading aloud, we went to the nursery to get some plants for the base of Simone's tree. Easton was so cute at the nursery, he wanted to buy every single plant there. "Oooh, Mama! Let's get this one!!!" He and Gabriela each chose some pants for Simone's tree. We also got some herbs and a couple vegetable starts, and a strawberry plant. The kids helped me plant the flowers while Lane put our other plants into the ground. It was a fitting activity since we started our garden last year a couple days after returning home from the hospital. 

Right before we started planting, we spotted a single ladybug on Simone's tree. 

I made Simone's birthday cake and the kids each got to blow out the candle on one cake. As we lit them, Gabriela started to sing Happy Birthday and wanted to kno why no one else was singing along. Through tears, we all sang together, and all of us but Easton were teary eyed by the end. Easton, having been in this role for a year now, was an old pro. As soon as he saw me crying he gave me a gigantic hug. A minute later he looked into my eyes, and seeing tears still, proclaimed, "you are da best mama!" And hugged me again. They talked about their sister and what she would do if she were here, how she'd probably shove the cake in her mouth messily. I think it's healthy and helpful and definitely sweet to hear them happily imagine what life would be like with Simone alive in our lives. 

Oh, sweet baby, what we would give to have you here. To watch you toddle around, clap your hands, give us slobbery kisses, say your first words, and hear your magical giggle. We miss you so very much and just wish it didn't have be like this. 

Almost a year

I've been thinking about Simone's upcoming birthday often. It's so complicated. I am grieving for my baby I lost, a lost chance to mother her, to watch her grow and interact with her big sister and brother, to see her find her place in our family, and also for my former self. I am not the carefree, fun, social person I used to be. I know now, more than ever, that i do not have the control that I once believed myself to have over my life. I lived through a horrendous nightmare and there wasn't a single thing I could do to stop it. It's true, I really am a different person now. This grief business changes you forever. I hope that through this I am becoming a better wife and mother, a more compassionate friend and supporter. It's hard to see that, though, when I'm missing my baby so fiercely. 

A broken heart

On Thursday while doing her school work, out of nowhere my dear Gabriela looked up to the ceiling, tears in her eyes, and yelled, "I don't have my baby sister!" And she just melted into a mess of deep sobbing and endless tears. Waves of grief hit me, full force out of nowhere sometimes, but I hadn't seen one hit my sweet girl, not yet, not like this. 

We had some emergency cuddles, shared lots of tears, and so much of what she said through those tears surprised me. Not because I hadn't felt those things  before, but because my six year old has. Instead of normal first grade worries, she begs to know why, of all the people in the world, did our baby have to die? She sees children and babies when we go places, and it hurts her heart because she didn't get to keep her sister. She cried and cried about how ready we were for Simone, and how sad it was to put away all her things - the darling clothes we picked out together, her colorful cloth diapers, the baby toys and  books.  Gabriela talked about what kind of big sister she would have been to Simone. How she would have carried her around and played with her, especially at park day with our homeschool friends. 

Gabriela went to the mantle and got out Simone's box from the hospital. She wanted to look at her sister's footprints. She picked up one of the hats simone wore, and cried even more, saying she remembered how she smelled. I asked Gabriela if she wanted to keep looking through the box, because she seemed even more upset as we looked at Simone's things, but she was certain she wanted to continue. She looked at and touched the hair we kept of Simone's. And then we looked through the photos. Gabriela cried about how beautiful her sister's toes and fingers were, she said how perfect she was. 

Oh, my heart was so broken for her, for us. How difficult to comfort my baby when my heart hurts just like hers, and then more to watch her grieve so fiercely for her sister. We talked about it, I told her how grateful I was that she got to meet her sister, and how much it is okay to cry and talk about her feelings. 

Through this all, Easton climbed right on us, desperately trying to hug and kiss away our tears. A year ago, he learned how healing his hugs were, and he hasn't forgotten. 

My baby girl carries so much sadness in her six year old heart. It's hard for me to remember this sometimes. She has so much love for Simone. She won't ever forget her baby sister, or what our family experienced when we all lost a part of ourselves, nearly a year ago.