Thursday, March 22, 2012

Missing Her

This week has been a hard one on me emotionally. I'm missing Sofia, and it feels like she and her memory are fading when it comes to other people. I know that it's just one of life's realities. Her death is no longer 'top news' and not in the forefront of everyone's minds.  Except that it is, in my mind and in Tim's.

Even though we are loving every minute of raising her little sister, Rose, we are still grieving hard for the big sister who can only exist as her angel.

When I kiss the top of Rose's head (something I do quite often!), I have flashbacks of the last time I kissed the top of Sofia's head. It is gut-wrenching because Sofia's head was cold; nothing like the warm, sweet-smelling softness of her little sister. It was the last time I would EVER kiss Sofia's head again. I guess that's why I overdo it with Rose, because I never know if it will be the last time with her.

Yesterday I finally changed my facebook settings to the new timeline design. I found that I like it better and not sure why I resisted the change for so long. The best and most obvious plus is the timeline feature itself. I love being able to click on a year in the past and find specific posts & comments of significance. Of course, the most significant date in my mind was 10-11-10, the day we found out Sofia was gone and all the subsequent comments that ensued. Comments of love, sympathy & support. Until this timeline feature came about, I figured I'd never see that post again- the one I posted after finding out.  Here is what I posted back then on that sad, sad day:

"Please pray for us. Our little baby was so wonderful that God had other plans and we don't get to keep our baby-baby is in heaven. We are very distraught and need all the love and support we can get right now. I have to deliver tonight. Love, Lia & Tim"


As soon as I read that old post and some of the comments in response, I was in tears. :(

After putting Rose to bed last night I broke down & cried. I told Tim how I missed Sofia. I sobbed & sobbed. I miss all the things that will never happen with Sofia. Every stage that we experience with her sister is a reminder of what will never be with Sofia. We often remind ourselves that we would likely not have Rose if it weren't for our loss. Last night I said "I want them BOTH!!!!!!!!" followed by a hard cry & consoling from Tim.

Tim said yesterday while Rose was sitting in her Bobby lounger & sleeping that she had a look on her face that reminded him of Sofia in her coffin. :(

I told Tim it feels like Sofia has taken a back seat the past two months, even though we think of her daily. Maybe because I haven't spent enough time blogging. We still visit her at the cemetery, but it feels rushed since we have a baby in the car with us. He said that Sofia knows we think of her and sees how we incorporate her into our lives, so she knows how much she is loved.  I then went off on a thought about wondering whether or not she really does know.  How does a little baby comprehend such things? I think of our living baby, Rose, and although she does recognize us and (hopefully) feels loved, she is just a baby after all.  Sofia was just a baby; too young to know what was happening to her. She never got to meet us face to face; she was gone when our faces met. Ugh. I know it was irrational of me to make sense of a dead baby's comprehension level up in heaven but it's where my mind was last night. Tim said she is an angel and he knows that she knows...she just does. Sigh.

As I sat there in bed trying to fall asleep (while watching the baby monitor video of Rose), I kept thinking how horrible it would be to go through another loss and prayed I never lose a child again.  At midnight I awoke in a panic and ran into her room to place my hand on her chest. Breathing. Sigh. Like I told Tim before he nodded off, this is something we will be dealing with forever.

2 comments:

  1. Sofia was with you for 9 months. She constantly felt you and heard your voice. She surely knows and loves you, and knows you loved her, even though she didn't have the chance to see you with her earthly eyes.

    A friend of mine told me that having their rainbow baby only intensified their feelings of loss of their son. They'd catch a glimpse of their daughter playing and realize that her older brother should be there with her. Each milestone she had, was one that they missed with him.

    Even though it's hard to keep a place in this physical life for one who is no longer with us, they will always be with us in our hearts, forever changing how we see the world and feel within it.

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  2. I think those of us who have lost a child know how precious a gift each and every one of them are, moreso than a person who hasn't lost a child and we know to cherish each and every moment. My parenting changed after the loss of our daughter and I think it is better now. More loving, more patient, more present.

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