Holiday Thoughts

The last few days have been a bit rough. I finally understand why everything kept pulling me into making this holiday all about Elizabeth. This whole time I felt so strongly compelled to dedicate our Easter to her, but no idea why. Of course I figured it had something to do with Jesus going to heaven and Elizabeth being in heaven, but now I know that isn't the only reason. It's about the previous holidays.

Last Thanksgiving we announced to everyone that we were expecting #2 and couldn't be more excited. In front of so many family members, everyone congratulated us and told us how excited they were for the new family member to come. On Christmas, I was so sick from pregnancy that I needed people's help. It was difficult to keep up with Katie. Family chatted to me about what our plans were with the baby and wanted to know all about the baby.

And now it's the next holiday since then. I'm no longer pregnant, Elizabeth is gone, and there's no excited chatter to be had like the last holidays were filled with. I should be almost seven months pregnant now, roughly the size of a house that would have made it difficult to help Katie with her Easter egg hunt. Instead, my belly is flat as a board and I'm empty inside. Instead of a big, flourishing, almost ready for her entrance baby, the intensive ultrasounds I just had last week showed a tiny, empty uterus.

I was dreading Easter family dinner and couldn't understand why. Usually I can't wait to attack the ham and let Katie eat with her little cousins and have a good time. I was secretly dreading it because something inside of me, even while I wasn't conscious of it, was mourning that Elizabeth wouldn't be there with us, kicking away and making it hard for me to eat. Something was crying inside, knowing that the only part Elizabeth could really play in this Easter would be when we decorated her grave.

Every time I think I finally overcome the struggle, that I figured out how to cope with our loss, something like this happens. I don't have to think sad thoughts for me to be sad and grieving. It's automatic, my heart goes ahead and does it before my brain can catch up and understand what's happening. Once it does, I'm just left with this big hole that aches and wishes above all that I could have that 7 month gestated baby still inside me, near ready to come into the world and into my arms.