“I am blessed for each moment I had with you.” – Unknown
I often see quotes or hear people talk about if they could just have one more dance, one more hug, one more kiss, one more moment with a loved one. To be honest I have found myself caught up with those very same thoughts at times. I find myself thinking how wonderful it would be to just see them, feel them, or smell them one more time. I sometimes get so desperate when I feel like I am already forgetting little things about Audrey and just want to remember them a little more for a little longer.
I remember feeling that exact same way when we lost Alexis. When we found out she had passed in utero at almost thirty-two weeks gestation my first thoughts were that she would never feel my arms, she would never feel my lips against her face, and that I would never get to look into her beautiful blue eyes. I remember feeling sheer panic as I realized that my worst nightmares had came true and that my chances of ever being able to “meet” her here on earth had been ripped out from underneath me when we had been so close. It made no sense. I was so angry. It wasn’t fair.
Over the next few weeks I became obsessed with just being able to see her and hold her because thats all I had left to look forward to…..but it wasn’t long before that experience, that dream I had in my mind was taken away from me too.
I was in labor for the twins and I was experiencing a million different emotions at the same time. While I was excited to meet Amelia and to be able to see Alexis…. I also became scared because I knew in a matter of hours I would no longer be carrying them. Not only would I no longer be carrying Alexis in my womb but I would not be carrying her home in my arms either. This was it.
The nurses had asked us what we wanted to do. If we wanted to see her and dress her in an outfit or if we would rather not. I was scared. I was completely terrified. I had spent the last couple weeks asking doctors and googling pictures of what I might be faced with but no one could tell me for sure. Because she had been passed in my belly for six weeks no one could tell me exactly what she was going to look like. As I took a deep breathe in I told the nurse I didn’t want to see her during delivery. That I wanted them to bring her to another room first so they could dress her and prepare me for what was next. I knew I wanted to see her but now that the moment was a mere few hours away I was so sure I was ready.
During my few hours of labour I continued to fantasize about the possibility of her still being alive. About the chances that the doctors could have been wrong. Although I had seen her lifeless body on ultrasound week after week, I continued to pray for nothing short of a miracle.
Amelia was born May eighth, Two-thousand twelve at 5:39 am and only a few minutes later at 5:42 am came Alexis. The minute I knew she was coming my fears left me and I tried to see. I had changed my mind and tried desperately to catch a glimpse of my beautiful daughter who my husband and I had created, but I couldn’t see her. They immediately brought her into the next room while my first twin cried on my chest.
It wasn’t long before the nurse came in and my fear returned. She told me that I may not want to see her. That she had suffered some trauma from being in my belly for so long. She wasn’t going to look like the perfect little girl we had envisioned and my grief only worsened as I came face to face with the possibility that I was never going to get the closure that I had expected.
I didn’t care what she looked like.
I wanted to see her anyways. Regardless of her condition she was our baby..our daughter.. and there was no way I would be able to live with always wondering what if. Only moments later they brought her to me.
….and they were right.
She didn’t look like the perfect baby I had envisioned in my head. But to me she was perfect. She was my husbands and she was mine. Although her head had some deformities the rest of her was untouched. I slowly counted ten little fingers and ten little toes.She had light hair on the top of her head which was more than I had expected. She was so tiny weighing only a pound and a half. Her little hand could not even wrap around my finger. She was so beautiful.
Saying goodbye was awful. I remember not wanting to share pictures of her because I thought her deformity would somehow cause people to think that I shouldn’t grieve as badly as I was.
I spent a lot of time over the past few years wishing I could have had that time, just that one moment to have met her here. Lets face it, one moment would never be enough. Just like Audrey a mere sixty seconds more with them would only leaving me desperately wanting more….needing more. There would never be enough hugs, enough kisses, or enough goodbyes to comfort me to the point of being able to let go because I would never be ready….because I never wanted to let go.
When I think about it now I would be so selfish to take them away from where they are. From where they are happiest and at peace. From where moments never end.
Sometimes when I think about wanting them back I also remind myself of all the heartaches and trials they will never have to face. The scraped knees, the broken hearts, the illness, and all of the disasters and tragedies that are unfolding in the world around us. It is comforting to know at times that they will never have to go through any of it. That in their life they only knew love.
On days like today I have been able to refocus my thoughts on the hello, on the reunion, and on the I will see them again. On the day that I will have both Audrey and Alexis in my arms again and will never have to let them go. Maybe not next year, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not in a moment but one day in his timing. Until then I will keep their memory in my heart. Audreys sweet smile will continue to be in my thoughts as I fall asleep, and I will hold on to the smell of her freshly bathed skin rubbed with the pink Johnsons baby lotion I loved so much. I will do what I can to enjoy life. To enjoy this new little life that is growing inside of me. To be thankful that my other children are here, and that I am able to help them and guide them in him through the moments in their lives.
I am sure there are more days ahead where my desperateness for my sweet babies overcomes my thankfulness…. but today…as I sit in my cozy little home with a fire burning while the snow flakes gently fall outside. With my girls playing and giggling around me and a baby boy kicking in my tummy. Today…in this moment…I am thankful for all the memories I was blessed to have experienced. All the moments that were planned for me. The ones that were meant to be.