Sweet November? More like bittersweet for me…November holds immense meaning in my heart as it is the month that both of my daughters were born. Every year during this month I overflow with thankfulness, yet deep inside the ache of the hurt remains.
Lydia was born on November 27.
Yes, just a few days away. The weight of the increasing anxiety and sadness becomes paralyzing as I realize another year without her has gone by. However, I also know that November’s blessings didn’t vanish after she died; they continued, giving me more reason to celebrate and be thankful for this month of memories.
Eight years after Lydia’s birth, her sister was born. She was due on Lydia’s birthday but arrived five days earlier. I was so excited, yet so nervous to have another daughter. Lydia had been gone for well over two years and I was a blank canvas when it came to little girls, after all, mine had died. My life as a mother came crashing down and my mothering skills went out the window. I didn’t know how to act around them, often becoming nervous and uncomfortable when situations arose and I found myself surrounded. Intentionally, I tried to stay away from girls her age as it was a daily struggle to live without her and the intense pain was brought back to the surface in just a moments notice.
Feelings of anger, guilt and sadness consumed me. It wasn’t fair. My life was not the same. Pure misery, yes that’s a good term to describe it.
When we found out we were having another girl, we were ecstatic and in disbelief. Immediately when your child dies and time moves forward, you long for what you had lost. The emptiness and silence are unbearable. The memories come flooding back to you making you bargain to do anything to have those moments back, Not to replace the child now gone, but for the familiarity and closeness that the relationship brings. I already had two boys and no daughter. Now throwing a daughter into the mix, my thoughts wandered imagining the beauty of what an amazing experience that would be. Immediately I began to think pink, sparkles and rainbows, hair bows and dresses, everything that symbolized a little girl.
At our 20 week ultrasound, we were told that she had a marginal cord insertion in the placenta. A completely foreign concept to me. After lots of googling and researching, I was petrified. Afraid of the fragility of the cord where it attached to the placenta, the doctor reiterated that the slightest tug or catch could detach it from the placenta. And I knew what that meant.
After five long months of worry, the induction came. Trusting my doctor with all my heart and praying for this little girl for months, my prayers had been answered when she was born without a hitch and perfect in every way. She had survived the cord wrapped around her neck as well as having a large tight knot in the middle of the cord. She was my miracle.
Eager with anticipation, I couldn’t wait to meet her and see what she would look like. Would she look like her sister or brothers? Me or her father? At birth she resembled her sister quite a bit but she was just how God had made her. Beautiful.
And now four years later, she still does resemble her sister and at times shows off that strong-willed personality, but overall, she is her own person, a unique spirit whose light shines on us all.
Today my little darling turns 4 years old! Happy Birthday my dear Sadie. You are a dream come true. Sweet November has been good to me.