Garden of Hope

I serve on the Garden of Hope committee for M.E.N.D.  We have spent countless hours over the last year making this dream become reality (and the dream was born before I even had a need to know about M.E.N.D.).  In less than 12 days, the Garden will be complete and will be dedicated at the 20th annual Walk to Remember.  It also happens to be on the anniversary of Elena's due date.  This project is so near and dear to my heart and all the more special as it shares a milestone date with my sweet girl.

Today the Hope Monument arrived at the Garden.  It brought tears to my eyes.  The bronze sculpture features a mother with empty arms, heart locket clasped in one hand, sitting beside Jesus who holds her baby in one arm and holds the mother's hand in His other hand.  It was more beautiful in person than I imagined.  The artist and her husband personally delivered and installed the monument.  I felt honored to be there.  I feel honored to be part of something so meaningful.

The work I do for M.E.N.D. is a truly a labor of love.  M.E.N.D. has brought relationships that I cherish like family, sisters who share a bond through our babies in heaven.  These relationships, this work, this ministry - these are all gifts brought to me through Elena's life.  I feel that I honor her through this work, that I create a legacy for her by keeping her memory alive and sharing her life with others.  It's almost a way to "mother" her - I can't be her room mom or drive her to ballet or soccer or read her stories at bed time, but I can do work that blesses others because of her.

Sweet Elena, I wish I could mother you in the ways that most parents get to care for their children.  I wish I could brush your hair and kiss the top of your blond head before tucking you in bed each night.  I wish I could take you to gardens to look at pretty flowers and sculptures.  Instead, I had to settle for helping to build a garden for you and for so many other sweet babies whose parents also so wish they were parenting them here on earth instead of building a garden.  I wish you were here to see it (though I suppose if you were here, there would be no reason for us to see it).

Missing Kindergarten

Another birthday come and gone. She would be 5 already. This has been a rough week. My husband is traveling; my Sunshine went back to school. Elena would be old enough for kindergarten this year. Would we have sent her? Her due date was not until fall - she should have been with the next class, but her early birth would have made her eligible to start this year. I know our ultimate decision would have depended on who she would have been because we would have made the best choices we could for her, based on her needs and personality, her strengths and weaknesses. But my best guess is that we would have enrolled her in our school's half day kindergarten this year and let her do full day kindergarten next year. That's what we did for our Sunshine, who was also a preemie and has a late birthday. So I imagine that's what we would have done for Elena as well.

As I set out clothes and pack lunches for back-to-school this week, I find it difficult to breathe. I look at my oldest's uniform and feel the hot tears on my cheeks. Next to his should be another one. Another red polo shirt and brand new sneakers. Hers would have included a khaki skirt and a big red hair bow. I feel so cheated, robbed of my daughter, and also robbed of the bows and skirts and jumpers, ruffles and pink backpacks. Maybe she would have hated those things, and there would have been no hair bows or dresses or pink and purple. But maybe she would have loved them. Maybe she would have.... so many dreams that could complete that sentence. Who would she have been? Athletic? Timid? Funny? Compassionate? Loud as her brothers? Quiet and reserved like her parents? Studious? Outgoing? Musical? Dramatic? Loved. I know she would have been loved. No matter who she was, she would have been so, so loved. She is loved still. But I wish so hard that I would have been able to know her, to watch her grow and become her own person, with her own hopes and dreams, and that I could have helped her reach for her goals, reach for the stars. Instead, I look at the stars with such longing that I feel my heart might burst.

My baby girl, up in heaven. I try to take solace in knowing she is where there is only light, in Paradise knowing the peace and perfect love of our Father, that she is held in His loving arms while I am unable to hold her here. But my heart still yearns to have her; my arms still ache without her weight in them. I miss her. And I grieve all the life that she missed out on having. Sweet daughter of mine, I wish I could have given you more. I wish I could have given you everything.

The First Year the Dates Align

In January 2011 we learned that we were expecting our second baby.  Five years ago this month.  I cannot believe it has been five years.  This year is the first year since Elena's birth that the dates and the days will match up.  She was born on a Monday; her birthday will be on a Monday for the first time.  All of the milestone dates will match up again for the first time.  I had thought after her first birthday that we had gone through all the "firsts."  Now I realize we haven't yet exactly.  I am already feeling anxious with the anticipation of the difficulty of reaching the milestones on the same days.  And it's her fifth birthday, a significant milestone birthday anyway, coupled with it falling on the same day as her birth....  2016 may be a tough year.