It's been two years since I last held Brielle.
Since I last kissed her.
Layed eyes on her.
Since I last hugged her. Cuddled her. Held her against my chest, in my arms, the safest place she could be.
It's been two years since I last felt her move. Since I last touched her already curly hair. Or traced her face with my fingers. Or had an innocent view of the world. Two whole years have gone by without one of my children here. If I'm going to be totally honest, when I think about the rest of my life without one of my children, my heart twists and aches, and I secretly hope that my life isn't as long as it would've been before losing Brielle. Because my God, living without one of your children, for 20 years? 30 years? It seems downright impossible.
In two years, I'm not really sure how far I (we, my husband and I) have come. I'm not the same person I was two years ago today, just a day after losing Brielle. I remember that day vividly. Driving home silently in the car with my husband at the wheel. Tears streaming down his face, me holding his arm while we drove down the highway. We had switched cars with my in-laws so that we didn't need to see an empty backseat. I mean, just 24 hours prior, I was having contractions and we were elated that Baby Brielle was on her way to join big sis M and all of those that had been praying for her for the past 9 months.
I don't think I've thanked my husband enough for how much he tried to shield me in those early months. We shielded each other, but he had baby girl bins full of frilly and cute outfits from M quickly moved out of the house. He had the baby bassinet moved out of the house so that I wouldn't see it when we got home. We had just closed on our new house just 5 days before we lost Brielle. I stepped into the condo just one time after losing Brielle. I couldn't manage the pain of going where Brielle had grown for 9 months, where my water broke and a little spot of blood stained the carpet. I couldn't handle it, so we stayed at my parents house for almost a month before my husband urged me to try to start a new normal at our new house. The place we were to bring Brielle home to.
A lot has changed from two years ago. I still think of Brielle dozens of times throughout every single day. I still cry and hurt and feel pangs of jealousy when I see pictures of sisters, especially when they're close in age to where Brielle and M are. I envision what life would be like with M at almost 5 years old, with a two year old running around while I have an almost 5 month old. I wonder if Brielle would be as into princesses and coloring as her big sister. What does Brielle's voice sound like? Her smile look like? I'm missing so much, as is my angel Brielle. The pain is indescribable and I'm not healed at all from finding out she is no longer here in the flesh.
I don't think "healing" is really a word that can even be used in these situations. I don't know that I've gotten stronger regarding the situation of Brielle not being here, either. I think it's more of this: my sweet kiddos keep me busy, life happens, and I just get distracted a few times a day. But if I have even a moment to think on my own, it drifts to Brielle. Of what could've been. What should've been.
Happy 2nd Angelversary, my sweet little love. Please give me strength to continue in life without you, as your sister and baby brother help me do.
In two years, I'm not really sure how far I (we, my husband and I) have come. I'm not the same person I was two years ago today, just a day after losing Brielle. I remember that day vividly. Driving home silently in the car with my husband at the wheel. Tears streaming down his face, me holding his arm while we drove down the highway. We had switched cars with my in-laws so that we didn't need to see an empty backseat. I mean, just 24 hours prior, I was having contractions and we were elated that Baby Brielle was on her way to join big sis M and all of those that had been praying for her for the past 9 months.
I don't think I've thanked my husband enough for how much he tried to shield me in those early months. We shielded each other, but he had baby girl bins full of frilly and cute outfits from M quickly moved out of the house. He had the baby bassinet moved out of the house so that I wouldn't see it when we got home. We had just closed on our new house just 5 days before we lost Brielle. I stepped into the condo just one time after losing Brielle. I couldn't manage the pain of going where Brielle had grown for 9 months, where my water broke and a little spot of blood stained the carpet. I couldn't handle it, so we stayed at my parents house for almost a month before my husband urged me to try to start a new normal at our new house. The place we were to bring Brielle home to.
A lot has changed from two years ago. I still think of Brielle dozens of times throughout every single day. I still cry and hurt and feel pangs of jealousy when I see pictures of sisters, especially when they're close in age to where Brielle and M are. I envision what life would be like with M at almost 5 years old, with a two year old running around while I have an almost 5 month old. I wonder if Brielle would be as into princesses and coloring as her big sister. What does Brielle's voice sound like? Her smile look like? I'm missing so much, as is my angel Brielle. The pain is indescribable and I'm not healed at all from finding out she is no longer here in the flesh.
I don't think "healing" is really a word that can even be used in these situations. I don't know that I've gotten stronger regarding the situation of Brielle not being here, either. I think it's more of this: my sweet kiddos keep me busy, life happens, and I just get distracted a few times a day. But if I have even a moment to think on my own, it drifts to Brielle. Of what could've been. What should've been.
Happy 2nd Angelversary, my sweet little love. Please give me strength to continue in life without you, as your sister and baby brother help me do.
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