One Year

One Year…

I miss Eliana, and think of her every day. All week there has been a heaviness on my heart, and it has been harder to breath. But today, my heart is just broken. One year ago today, at this very moment, I sat alone in the Dr.’s office, waiting for my husband to arrive after learning that our daughter was no longer living. The saddest day of my life.

Now today, we have things to plan and do to be ready for Eliana’s 1st birthday in heaven tomorrow, but all we can do is just miss her. We have a special day planned with cake and ice cream, and a butterfly release at the cemetery, but it’s hard to make a cake, get balloons, and prepare a party for your child who is no longer with you. It all just feels so empty, like meager attempts to drown out the silence left by her absence. We want to celebrate her little life, and rejoice that she has been enjoying heaven for a year, but at the same time, what are her Mommy and Daddy to do but just miss her? It’s heart breaking that she won’t be here to smash her strawberry butterfly cake all over her face, or smile and laugh at the little butterflies that will take off all around us. Today the ache is just so deep, and even with our little boys around, the house is so, so quiet.

One year seems a long time, but for us who are grieving, we are back to last year like it was yesterday. It all comes back so vividly, as we think of one whole year of our lives going by without her. There is so much we have missed this year, and so much we will always miss on this earth.

Lately my three-year-old son has been talking about his sister more and more. Sometimes he still gets confused because I have been pregnant for so long. He will say something about Eliana in mommy’s tummy, and then we go through a little ritual:
“Jayden, is Eliana in Mommy’s tummy?”
“No”
“Who is in Mommy’s tummy?”
“Baby Brother.”
“Where is Eliana?”
Then his face always lights up with the biggest smile and he says,
“She’s in heaven with Jesus!”
“Will she come back?”
Sometimes he answers no, and sometimes yes, and the conversation continues accordingly.
Today we were talking about the new baby coming soon, and he said
“I want Eliana to come home to our house,”
And we had our same conversation about heaven. Then he got the saddest, pouty face he can make and said,
“Mommy, I wanted both of my babies to come home…”
Holding back the tears I answered “I know baby, me too.”

Yesterday in the van my oldest son Caedmon was teary-eyed when he said,
“I wish I had gotten to see Eliana…” I reminded him that he did see her, but he said,
“No, I wanted to see her alive.”
“I know Sweetie, we all wish that…”

Our little ones are so sensitive and intuitive it catches me off guard sometimes. It’s so sweet to see how they love their little sister, but so heartbreaking to see them missing her too. Today their feelings sum up my own, I wish so very much I could have held her alive, and looked into her sweet little eyes and that I could bring both of my babies home.

Eliana, we all love you so, so much, there are no words to describe. You are forever in our hearts, forever in our family.