This theme came at an appropriate moment for me. (I started this post back on May 26, so my time frame is not exactly correct.)
Thursday evening, I went to my nephew's graduation from pre-K. During the ceremony, a slideshow of the class was shown. Most of these kids have attended this day care/day school since they were infants, so there were pictures of these 4 & 5 year olds at school since they were little babies, becoming toddlers and now ready to start big kid school. I started tearing up. My Sara should be turning 5 later this year. I see my nephew, her cousin growing up and it made me miss her more. ( because Sara was born in October, she wouldn't have started kindergarten this fall, but next. We're going through the same thing with Ethan. Academically, he's ready to move up to the pre-k class this fall, but he won't start kindergarten until 2013. This will also give him a chance to mature.)
A few days ago, a friend told me about her friend who just lost her daughter and I've been emailing her, hopefully providing some support. My friend had lost her first son, we meet at a support group. I've revisited those first few days, weeks of losing Sara. The extreme pain and sadness, the fear of what my life would be.
But four years, seven months and 25 days later, I can say, I am enjoying life again. There hasn't been a day that I haven't thought about Sara. We moved to our current house when Ethan was 6 months old, but I have momentos of Sara throughout the house, especially butterflies.
Most of my co-workers don't know about Sara. I told 4 of them. I know they might have told others and I'm OK with that. I'm not extremely close with my co-workers, but I'll share my story when the time is right.
I adore my son and he adores me. I love being his mommy. Because he was conceived barely four months after losing Sara and was born a year and 9 days after her death, their stories are completely intertwined.
I'm able think about Sara or talk about her without breaking down, sometimes though, it's just too much and I need to cry for her. Somedays it still feels unreal. I was pregnant with my daughter, gave birth to her, but she's not here with us.
DH & I planned to have one child, of course we have two. But we know we're done, no more babies for us.