Is that post title up there a real word? Also it reminds me of tea, isn't there a brand of tea, Twinings or some such thing? Anyway.
For some reason I have this deep desire to keep B and Micah as separate beings. I want her to have her own identity and not be known as the baby we had after Micah died. And she is in so many ways, helped to a large extent, I think, by being a girl, and also because she was technically the third baby to come along after Micah if you count the miscarriages and also because she's strongly had her own identity as Baby Bee since very early on in our pregnancy (still haven't told you that story yet, must do that soon), she is her own little person quite a bit.
But there have been so many things that have happened that leads me straight to thinking about all that came before her. They're not even big things most of the time - the way she looks in the morning, when you glance at her from a certain angle, is an incredible reproduction of her brother's face, her smiles (she smiles!), she's bringing things to her mouth and we have a baby to hold and L talks about how happy she is that we have a baby who lived, and so it's all these little things that bring me straight back to Micah and the miscarriages and all the pain on the road to my sweet B.
For instance, March for Babies is tomorrow, and it's a huge deal where I live, and I've been participating since I was in middle school - this is my 19th year! - and when I think about where we were last year at this time, less than a week from our fourth miscarriage, and where we are this year, trying to plan where I can have a spot to sit and nurse our living baby, well it's all just kind of mind boggling and it all runs together and I'm not sure how to separate her out from the rest or if I even need to.
Later today I've got to drop Micah's sign off so he can be represented on Memory Mile again, a stretch of the walk that has beautiful signs with names and dates from little ones who didn't make it. As a teenager I always thought Memory Mile was such a depressing part of the walk, but now I look forward to it so much. I was so touched and honored last year when they asked if they could make a sign for Micah (so much so that I took the sign home and now have to bring it back) and it was one of the highlights of that morning, getting to his sign and having friends take pictures of hubby, L and I with it - a family picture of sorts I guess.
The fact that this year we will arrive at his sign with his baby sister in tow is not lost on me. It seems hugely important and very significant but I think I'm the only one that feels this way.
I wonder if you other mamas that have been so blessed as to have another baby after your sweet one died can relate? Does every little thing seem so very amazing to you, too? Like you can't believe you've made it to this place where there is, gasp, a living baby with you, and wow, how did you get so lucky, and look at that! she's still breathing! and maybe she'll get to stay and grow old and you'll get to gaze at her grandchildren, and can you believe it?! still breathing! goodness gracious, a healthy baby, ah! she's looking to the left, amazing! and now to the right, this is incredible! still breathing! I can hardly take it!
Also, am I the only one who talks in rapid run-on sentences inside my head? Huh, come to think of it, that's exactly how I write a lot of the time, too.