A new dedication area for Elizabeth

A few weeks ago, we headed up to my MIL's house to walk on her trails.

First, we got on Will's trail...



...which led to Katie's trail...



...which led to Elizabeth's...



A few steps past this sign, there's this area:


This area next year will have an area that is dedicated to Elizabeth. There's going to be a bench and rose bushes and perhaps a few other things just for her. They picked this spot because they said that out of the whole forest, the sun breaks through so brilliantly down on this area. For hours earlier in the day, this little circle is bathed in sunlight.

I'm excited to see how it looks. I love that even after almost two years that we lost her, her grandparents on both sides still keep her in their thoughts and do things for her. It's so meaningful to have her a part of our family - not just in our home, but in all of theirs as well.

Elizabeth's Lookout

My Mother-In-Law called us last weekend to let us know something that she's added to her home. They live on a large property with woods all around, and they've made each of their grandchildren their own trails. Each trail has a sign with the name on it (for example, one is Will's Wilderness Trail"). All the trails lead to a high spot on their land that they've named Elizabeth Rose's Lookout Peak. Here in this little peaceful place, they placed a bench and planted a rose bush for her.

 I love that we now have two places that honor Elizabeth's memory and where we can go to remember her. I'm eager to go there to get some pictures of the trails and Elizabeth's spot.

Her memory continues to live on throughout our families and she has special places of honor on both sides of our family. It's truly touching to see how she's remembered and included! <3

Elizabeth's Memorial Celebration 2014

Last Sunday, we had a memorial celebration for the second year in honor of Elizabeth's due date. It was a beautiful day out. We had a picnic of sandwiches and fruit, and for the first year I tried out the recipe I made her (Sugar Beth's Heavenly Angelfood Cupcakes with fresh strawberry filling). We released balloons again this year, and we gave her a windchime of angel wings as her gift.

Mother's Day

Mother's Day is just two days away. It seems like this year, I can't get Elizabeth off of my mind. This year's Mother's Day is so different. I'm mommying two babies every day, but not the ones I thought I would be originally.

I find that I still often wonder about that other life, that life of 'what might have been'. I think of that image I had in my mind when I was pregnant with Elizabeth, that time we were out for a walk and we saw two little sisters in tutus, holding hands and skipping out of ballet class. I just knew that would be Katie and Elizabeth one day. I think about the bedroom I was so eager to decorate, with lilac walls and called the room of Beauties. Katie's side would be Beauty and the Beast theme, Elizabeth's side would be Sleeping Beauty themed. I think about all the princess things I stocked up on, all the Princess Aurora things I added to my cart eagerly waiting to be purchased for Elizabeth. I think about that beautiful apron I was eager to embroider for my fantasy bakery, adorned with the sweet little nickname of Sugar Beth.

It's hard to come back out of that reality at times. It's hard to see Katie's room, so close to perfect and beginning to fill up with Beauty and the Beast themes but lacking Sleeping Beauty, because the Sleeping Beauty theme had to be moved to my mom's house, inside of a tiny little picket fence spot. Sleeping Beauty ended up being written on a slab of stone instead of on the lilac princess walls. We still want to put Katie in ballet class next year, but she won't have a little sister to hold her hand and practice with anymore. It'll just be her now, alone in her tutu.

That's not to say I don't love my reality. Having my little rainbow boy has been such a joy in my life. I've found that I love being the mommy of a little boy, so much more than I thought I would. I can't get enough of the love he showers me with, how he gives me this look like I'm his whole world. I would never trade him for anything, and every time I look at him, I just know he was meant to be.

But it's hard. It's hard not to wonder about that other life. It's hard to look at reality. The reason is because no matter which one I'm looking at, the life I originally thought would happen or the life that has happened, one of my babies is always missing. Elizabeth and Will can't coincide at the same time, their worlds are separate. One is always missing from my view when I look back and forth between the two worlds of reality and fantasy. My heart always feels torn open, no matter where I look.

According to my ticker, it's been one year, three months, four weeks, and one day since Elizabeth was born sleeping. It still hurts just as much. I've managed to put it out of my mind a bit, I'm better at managing to avert my thoughts before I break down and cry now, and Will has brought light back into the dark hole I fell into after Elizabeth was gone. But that hole will never close, it'll always be agape and painful and will never heal. It'll always bring tears and painful thoughts and a little heart break anew each time.

After all this time, I know there's very few who understand why I still post about Elizabeth on my FB, I share pictures of quotes and poems about miscarriages, I put up pictures of her spot, and I openly admit that I still grieve for her. I can't blame them, I wouldn't have understood either. Having been on both sides, I can honestly say that even the most emphatic person could not grasp the understanding and the pain that continues long after it happens. It's a pain that goes so deep, you can't understand it unless you've experienced it. But it helps my grieving to bring her into my life when I can. When I see something that reminds me of her, I have to share it. When I visit her beautiful spot, I like to have new pictures, just like I like having new pictures of my other children. I like the quotes and the poetry to remind myself that there are others out there in the same position I'm in, who understand and get it.

I don't want Elizabeth to ever fade from my thoughts, from my daily actions, or from my photo albums. Just because she's not here does not mean she's not part of our family.

Easter 2014

For some reason, Easter for me will always be about Elizabeth now. Maybe it's because of Jesus rising to go to Heaven, or that the color purple is everywhere, or just that it's finally becoming spring and everything is becoming beautiful and alive around her little spot. No matter what, I always have to include her in that day in a big way. Nothing is more important on Easter to me than going to church and then immediately heading over to Elizabeth.

This year was very alike last year. We went to church, then bought flowers and went to my mom's. Once the Easter egg hunts were over, I got my hands dirty and started planting the tiny purple flowers around the front of her spot. White tullips from last year were already sprouted and blooming. Bill planted the sunny yellow gerbera daisies I had gotten. Then Will got to sit at the spot for the first time. My angel and my Rainbow meeting again, for the first time earth side.

One Year Angelversary

Today is the day we lost Elizabeth last year. Since I'm still hormonal, I decided to try to be easy on myself and not read back in the blog, or read many of the things I put in her box. I have letters I wrote to her, memories of every moment while I was going through the miscarriage, poetry Bill and I both wrote, but I know I can't bear it right now. Just looking at some of the things we have, saying a few words about how much she's missed and how there's always something missing in our family pictures, already has me repeatedly in tears. She's still, and always will be, so very missed.

Instead of reading, I tried to keep busy. The weather worked against me today. It was a downpour rain all day, which meant we couldn't take the kids up to her spot to see her and we couldn't release a balloon for her as it wouldn't have gotten very far. Instead, we had to quickly change plans and do things inside of the house. Last night I cleared off the top of the piano, which is in our main living area, and brought down all of the things that mean most when I think of Elizabeth. Some of it was things from my pregnancy, others that were collected or given to us right after we lost her, and others were things I've collected throughout the year for her, as she's included in everything we do. I set it all up and surrounded the area with candles I kept lit all day. Then Bill and I made a cake together for her (which sparkles from the kind of sprinkles I used and the glitter candle), and Bill made a special dinner. Tomorrow we'll go to church and, like we do every time we're there, we'll light a candle for her and say a special prayer. I also had Will dressed this morning in his little lion sleeper, since Elizabeth's symbol/animal was a little lion cub and Will's middle name means Lion as a connection for the two.

It feels so odd to mourn a child while holding a newborn. It feels odder to rejoice in a baby who wouldn't be here, had the child being mourned survived. It's odd to feel so happy and grateful for one child, while crying for another that would have been in his place. Will has healed so much of my heart, as much that can ever be healed. When I hold him, I can feel Elizabeth watching over him, being such an amazing guardian. When I see our perfect little boy and feel so happy to have him, I can smile and say that Elizabeth did an amazing job at choosing the perfect baby to send down to us. But there's still that shadow of a life that could have been that makes it hard at times. I adore my family, but it's rough to know that it's a different family that what it would have been. It's so hard to love something so much, but know that another love would have been.

Here's some pictures from today so far: