Today is August 20th, 2022 and it feels wonderful outside at a “cool” 82 degrees. It’s been a while since I’ve written to you, Amelia, but it’s also been a while since I’ve been able to connect with you peacefully, outside in our yard near your garden. It’s just been too hot in Texas this summer. It’s been too hot to sit outside (unless in a pool!) and it’s been too hot for your garden to thrive and reach its full potential. I’m amazed by the Zinnias that continue to grow tall. They’re the only seeds that turned into flowers this year… but my view this morning is a bit more messy, a bit more wild, a bit more sparse than I would have liked to see. Your garden lacks the bright color of last summer and while I’m learning to accept that each year your garden will be different just as each year you would be different if you were here; I am hoping to plant a few new things and revive it for the last few months of warm weather. Maybe then I will share photos from start to finish.
Amelia, you’ve known the whole time, but it was only recently that we shared our news with everyone that we are cautiously anticipating the arrival of your baby brother in November. While we know how lucky we are, we also know how quickly we could lose him… and since March we have faced many emotions. Amongst the anxiety, fear, hope, and joy one of the most difficult emotions I have faced recently has no name to describe it… I long for both of you, but I know I can’t have both of you here with me. I have two separate places in my heart for each of you… but just like any parent with multiple living children I have to make sure to devote time to each of you and sometimes this is difficult to do. Sometimes I feel as though I am failing to give to you both equally.
When we made it through two anatomy scans with your brother and things looked great both your Daddy and I felt relief and allowed ourselves to celebrate a little knowing the anxiety would creep back in days later. Then I felt something like guilt… guilt that we get to celebrate milestones with him that we never got the chance to celebrate with you. When his estimated weight passed the 14.4 oz that you weighed when we delivered you, I again felt some relief… and then some guilt. When we made it to viability and started to trust that maybe he will make it safely to our arms… again there were conflicting emotions… relief and hope and guilt and sadness.
This whole pregnancy has been a series of check points… even becoming pregnant was a check point that took a full year and a lot of devastation to achieve. But prior to 20 weeks the check points were similar to yours… just with a lot more emphasis on reaching them this time knowing how quickly things can go wrong. Now we are at a point where with each check point we feel more and more hopeful that he will safely make it earth side and at the same time I wish we could’ve had this experience with you. It will never be fair, but it will forever be our story.
I know the next three months will have their own unique emotions… as we prepare for his arrival by completing the nursery that should’ve been yours… install a car seat where yours should’ve been… take maternity photos and newborn photos that I had imagined with you… and more… but one thing I want to make sure everyone knows is that your baby brother does not replace you. He is helping to heal our souls and fill up space in our hearts…but he will never fill the space that is carved out for you.
Grief is love, Amelia… and I will both love you and long for you forever. Thank you for sharing my heart with your brother and thank you for sending him to us when we had lost most of our hope. I look forward to the days when he can learn your story and help me with your garden. I look forward to showing him the beauty of all of the flowers we see around the world and hope he, too, develops an eye for all of the floral footprints you leave for us all.
Note: Pregnancy After Loss Support (PALS) is a resource that has helped me tremendously through this pregnancy. The instagram app, website, and pregnancy tracking app have all provided validation that I have needed during difficult moments. Pregnancy after loss is beautiful but not easy at all. There are complicated and messy emotions… and this resource (especially the articles published by other PAL parents) helps us to know we are not alone.
Amelia's Floral Footprints 