I had a moment today - when my sister sent me an article about how siblings shape each other's lives (apparently it's national siblings day?) - in which I realized that I now view everything through my lens of loss. To me, that article was no longer about growing up with my sister and my brother. It was about my son growing up without my daughter. It was a trigger.
There are so many triggers.
So it was especially nice to find a package on the front porch tonight. It was from my friend Jen, the first "baby loss mama" that I connected with, a friend of my sister's friend. I reached out to her several days after getting home from the hospital, and she was my first lifeline. I devoured her blog in a few days. Learning how Jen was living after the stillbirth of her son Luke at full-term was my first inkling that I could in fact, live through this horror. Soon after, Jen sent me another lifeline: the book An Exact Replica of a Figment of my Imagination by Elizabeth McCracken, which I promptly began rereading as soon as I finished. Every time I see her name in my inbox, I feel a sigh of relief, knowing my feelings will be not only validated but understood. Jen and our regular email exchanges have continued to be a lifesaver for me. It's amazing how close I feel to someone I've never met, although I've been told that Orange County is a pretty nice place to visit.
And Jen is also quite crafty.
So, I was thrilled to open this package and discover this:
|3 lbs, 10 oz of love.|
I had forgotten what 3 pounds, 10 ounces felt like in my arms. And the physical act of it took my breath away.
What an amazing gift.
We're on the waiting list for Molly Bears, an organization that makes memorial teddy bears that match the weight of your child. It took me three months to place my order. At first, I didn't think I would find it therapeutic. If I couldn't hold Lydie, why would I want to hold a teddy bear? Now, I can't wait for that bear to arrive. Now, the more physical artifacts that we can have in our home that remind us of our daughter and our sister, the better. I want anything and everything that will help me feel connected to Lydie.
So Jen, thank you so much for your labor of love. Thank you for helping us to honor and remember our girl. Thank you for missing her with us, and thank you for continuing to be my lifeline.