But she's not here. She is somewhere different and better, I'm told. Although some days it still feels like being here with me would be best. I don't know. Losing a child is hard.
I went a-pinteresting for Frozen birthday cupcake ideas and it just didn't feel right. But I found this. And it seemed perfect.
So I'll be making pink and gold cupcakes to eat for dessert after dinner tonight. Josh suggested a bigger celebration, almost a birthday party. But I think cupcakes with my little family after dinner is about all I can handle still.
Two years and one rainbow later I am happy to say I don't live in grief. I am happy to say I don't dwell as often as I once did or cry as often as I once did. The Lord has brought healing in so many ways.
But in so many ways I am still healing. I watch my living son and daughter interact and play and always think, there should be another. I wonder how she would have loved her baby sister or played with her big brother. I imagine a little girl, her hair white-blonde and wispy, toddling after Micah with a babydoll in one hand and a laser gun in the other, yelling for him to wait up!
And I'm surprised how raw my heart feels sometimes and how quickly the tears comes. Recently I was dusting my bookshelf and Micah spotted a book, Ladybug Girl and her Mama, a gift from a friend for Evie's first birthday.
"What's this mommy?"
I explained how it was a gift from my friend for Evie's birthday last year. And I asked if he remembered baby Evie.
"Uh-huh. She's with Jesus now. I wish she were still here."
Tears immediately sprang into my eyes. You know what I wanted to say - how deeply I wished the same thing. But no words came. But he said exactly what I feel always.
Just one little reminder - a date, a smell, a memory - takes me right back. Immediately back to the news, the waiting rooms, the doctors visits, the hospital, the room, the hallway, the car, the grave, all in one instant. These are hard things to carry. Painful things.
Two years and one rainbow later I am thankful. Thankful for memories of my first daughter, thankful for the beautiful pictures we have, thankful that her soul is forever linked to mine, thankful for the promise of Heaven and hugs forever. Thankful for my spunky almost four-year-old boy and the smiliest baby girl I ever did see. Thankful.
Two years and one rainbow later I still grieve. Over the things I will never know about my sweet girl. Over the flashbacks. Over the void of her presence. Grief.
Two years and one rainbow later I am still a mix of emotions. I am still healing. I am still crying. I am still remembering. I am still laughing and living and loving.
I am here, she is there. The Lord loves us and has purpose for us both. And one sweet day we will celebrate an eternity of birthdays together, sparkly cupcakes and all.