It’s my daughters first ‘birthday” next Monday and a lot of feelings are finding their way back. We plan on going back to her hospital of death and birth to light her a candle and bring flowers to our midwife, who guided us during our 52 hour labor.. She’s the one who put Elli of my chest and encouraged skin to skin to feel her first and final warmth. She helped K get over his anxiety the moment he first saw her. She helped us focus on her being, how she looked.. She helped us see beyond death. She helped me see that her birth would be nothing like the birth that I’m about to have in a few weeks time. I owe her loads.. Yes, she deserves flowers in all the colors that symbolize warmth, just like the warmth that she has given us on one of the worst days of our lives.

It’s moments like these, that still manage to catch my breath as if it was yesterday that we last held her. Her brother is here and we are so grateful but now he is a bandaid on a burn that seems to simmer eternally. He doesn’t fill any of the void that Elli left behind. And he never will…

Our pregnancy has continued to run smooth from 22 weeks on after discovering the SCH at 16,3 weeks. I am now hijacked by a big strong boy who lights up my day with his strong kicks and stronger Braxton hicks. Each day is a day closer to birth and meeting him. His dad is getting really exited and often falls asleep at nighttime with his hands around my tummy when Bubba is having his ‘witching hours” between 11pm and 1 am. We are putting together his co-sleeper and getting our birth cards and candy ready… 35… Where has time gone?


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