I will give you fair warning... this is a very looooooong post,and if you actually read the whole thing it could cause you some sadness. I apologize in advance if that does occur.
I have been thinking about Lilly quite a bit lately. Maybe because we just passed the 3rd anniversary (has it really been that long??) since we lost her. Maybe because yesterday was Mother's Day. Maybe because I just have too much time on my hands lately.
I wonder what she would be doing. What sorts of things would she like? Would she be into princesses? Or trucks and trains like her big brother? She would be 2 1/2 now. That's how old Blake was when we moved into this house. When we started potty training. When doctors finally agreed with me that he couldn't hear.
I was cleaning out the entertainment center the other day and came across videos of Blake when he was that age. I watched them and just laughed and cried. He was such a character (still is). He was dancing in one of the videos...and he kept playing the same bit of one particular song over and over and over... and dancing and jumping around to it. Then he looked at me and said, "I nunna pay a ninnent one." That made me wonder if Lilly would have had the same speech issues? And reminded me that I was pretty much the only person in Blake's life that could understand what he was saying! The little blurb above was "I gonna play a different one".
There are certain things in your life you will never forget... some good, some bad. No matter how hard I try I will never forget the look in people's faces when Blake would talk and they had NO CLUE what he was saying. Sometimes it made me angry. Sometimes I felt like if they would just PAY ATTENTION they would understand him. For the most part family and friends understood him. They took the time to figure out his errors. My two bestest friends in the world, Shelley and Tammy, both did really well at "getting it". There were a few things that they couldn't catch... and a few that I couldn't either. I will share some of my memories of Blake in another post.
What sort of memories would I have of Lilly? I remember the looks on people's faces when they hear that I have lost a child. The funny thing is, unlike with people who couldn't understand Blake... the looks I see regarding Lilly are not all the same. With Blake it was always the same "What the hell?" sort of look. But upon learning of my loss, different people have different reactions. Some people look scared to death. As if I am going to come unglued at any given moment. Some people look genuinely concerned. Some seem nervous, as if they don't know what to say or do now that they know. Some just sort of blow it off. And others tell me that it's been long enough and I should move on... the looks on THEIR faces are the worst of all. They look at me with a sadness and pity that seems to shout in my face, "There is something wrong with you and you need serious help!"
I think what people don't understand is that I didn't just lose my child. I lost a lifetime of memories with her. I lost seeing her first steps. Hearing her first giggle. Smelling her after her bath. Snuggling with her at 3 AM... and 10 AM ...and noon....and all throughout the day. Listening to her cry. Changing her diapers. Teaching her how to feed herself. Fixing her hair. Taking her for her first hair cut.
I will never have a Mommy/ Daughter day. I will never get to take her to get her nails done. Or to shop for the perfect outfit for her first date. I will not see her grow up. I will never know what she's going to be when she grows up. I won't help her get ready for prom... or home coming... or graduation... or her wedding. I won't ever hold her babies in my arms.
I really have no memories of Lilly. I know I was pregnant with her for 12 weeks... but I only knew of her for a few hours before she was gone. I didn't get to see her on the ultrasound. I didn't get to see her little heart beating away. I didn't get to feel her moving inside of me. I didn't get to hold her for even a second.
I try to connect memories of her to objects.... mostly to angels... but really, these are just things and not my baby girl. And they are things that I would give up in a millisecond if it meant I could have her instead. I know that could never happen... but sometimes I wake up wishing I had Lilly instead of the bits of glass and clay and metal that have become her memory.
And although I have nothing to hold on to... no blankie that she slept with...no teddy bear given as a gift for her... no outfit that she wore... no bracelet from her tiny little wrist... I will never forget her. She will always be my daughter. She will always be my baby girl. She will always be a part of who I am.
I love you, Lilly Angel. With all of my heart and soul.