I've been having a hard time writing lately, at least on this blog.
In trying to figure out why, I think in part it is because that where I am right now is hard to put in to words. After Rip died, I wrote about loss and sadness and the desire to have another baby. When I got pregnant again, I wrote about how scared and excited I was and how much I still missed my boy. And then when Gracie finally arrived, there was so much joy and relief...with a different level of missing Rip.
Now...well, what do I write about now?
I still think about Rip every single day. I miss him, a lot. I think about what he would be doing, or look like now. I think probably a lot like a boy version of Gracie (ie Mama-visioned cutest baby ever). Yesterday was an eleven eleven day...I saw it everywhere, all of the time. I still feel him, I still talk to him.
I breathed a huge sigh of relief when Gracie turned one. Before I was even pregnant with her, my doctor told me I would probably be afraid for the first year of my next child's life and she was right. Somehow, deep down it was like I couldn't quite believe she was mine until we hit that one year mark. Don't get me wrong, I still worry way more than I think most "normal" moms do...but it is getting much, much better.
I also think a lot about how lucky I am. I have friends who have lost babies and are still waiting to hold a child in their arms. There is not a night that I put Gracie to bed that I don't thank God for the mere fact of her. The solid weight of her body breathing into my neck is the only drug I will ever need (but I won't turn down a glass of wine, just to be on the safe side).
I guess part of me feels in limbo...for the last two years there has always been a next step to the grieving process, a goal in mind. Now, even though a million different things will change until the day I die, now is the part where I move forward and Rip's death comes with me as it is.
I guess it all really comes back to not wanting his story to end, wanting his life to mean something more "the baby we lost". And I know it has, so many people have told me that Rip's story meant something to them and that truly makes all of the difference in the world.
I think the trick now is how to move forward in a way that is healthy for Gracie, for me and for Parke, and also in a way that honors Rip and keeps him a celebrated part of our family. It's not easy, but I've always been one who believes in magic.