When I was pregnant with Ginny, I would imagine what it would be like to raise a little girl. I dreamed of the baby stages, toddlerhood, a little girl growing to a teenager, and even spending time with her as an adult. When Ginny died, my imagination didn’t stop, only now I was thinking of everything I would be missing. I have grieved and am still grieving the loss of every stage. When I walk past baby girl clothes sections, I grieve. When I see a mom and her daughter walking around the neighborhood, I grieve. When I see a mother-of-the-bride look with pride at her daughter, I grieve. I don’t just grieve my baby, I grieve a lifetime of moments together.
Now that Addie is here, I get to actually experience raising a little girl. I get to experience all those stages I imagined – but with a different daughter. I get to experience everything I thought I never would – but not with Ginny. I’m thrilled and grateful to get this chance. And it has taken me 9 months to realize that I haven’t even thought about it. During Addie’s pregnancy and her first 9 months, I have not sat and dreamed of what it will be like to raise her. It’s just now occurring to me that I haven’t allowed myself to really imagine her growing up. I guess I was trying to protect myself. Just as she is reaching milestones does it start to sink in that we get to raise this beautiful, adorable, sweet girl and that she is truly here with us. I can hold her and see her and kiss her and make her smile. I keep underestimating how fun it is to dress her and watch her learn new things. In the best way, I feel surprised realizing she’s growing and developing. I shouldn’t be surprised. I knew what was coming. We’ve experienced these same stages with Chet. But somehow having a girl still hasn’t truly sunk in. The longer Addie is with us, the more my heart slowly believes that my dream of being a girl mom is actually currently coming true. I can let myself believe it. I do cherish it. I cherish Addie so much.
As I process this reality, it becomes even more clear how one child cannot replace another. Even though I am experiencing with Addie what I fantasized about with Ginny, I still definitely grieve for her everyday. These moments aren’t fulfilling what was lost because what was lost was an entirely different person. I may not know what Ginny would’ve looked like, but I know what her presence felt like. Addie is just as loved, just as precious, and just as wanted as Ginny, but she is not Ginny. She is her own amazing person. I look forward to every moment with her, but I will still always miss and yearn for her older sister. Addie does complete our family, but she doesn’t fix what is broken in our hearts. I never have and never would expect that from her or Chet. Daniel and I love all our children with all our large, soft, broken open hearts.
Be-Still-and-Know 