Hattie (left) & big sister Harper (right)
Before you came, our family took a hard hit. The Lord blessed us with a “surprise pregnancy” and it was the last thing we ever saw coming. We thought learning of your sister’s existence, picking out her name, decorating her nursery, and preparing to raise three children in our home was going to be the biggest curve ball God had for us…and now how we wish it were. As shockingly as your sister was conceived, she was taken from us on May 21, 2018. Our world crumbled and our faith was shaken. The child we had learned to yearn for was in the arms of Jesus and ours were so heavily empty.
When we found out that you were on the way, only 3 months later, we were terrified and instantly in love with you. My knees hit the floor the minute the pregnancy test read positive. All I could do was beg the Lord to not take you away, too.
And in His great love and mercy, He didn’t.
You came loudly into the world at 3:31 pm on April 10, 2019. After endless doctor appointments, sleepless nights, extra sonograms and testing, you had made it into our arms- alive.
And I melted. I didn’t know how to feel this love again. A love for a daughter. I was terrified He would take you too and I would be left even emptier than you found me.
But our bond was unrelenting and demanded to be nurtured and felt. You demanded me to be your mother and learn how to do all of the things I had longed to do with your sister. And in spite of the sleepless nights, nursing pain, hormonal changes, etc… you made living easier.
But there is something you need to know.
You are not a resolution to hard times. You are not the way out of my grief. You are not here simply for the purpose of making me whole again. Please listen to me when I tell you- your purpose is your own and is not tied to repairing me. God has a lovingly unique plan for your life. We do not desire you to be a replacement for your sister. When you came, so did so many of the good things we felt were lost, but that never stopped the sadness we felt.
Throughout your life, I will cry and grieve. You will find me sitting alone with my thoughts, trying to find new details in old pictures. You will find me decorating her tombstone with endless amounts of Hobby Lobby flowers. You will find me crying tears into a little pink blanket that once held her lifeless body…all in an effort to connect with your sister who came before you. In an effort to not forget who she was...that she was real. As I raise you, nurture you, and love you, I will also be longing for your sister. Every new experience I share with you will be shadowed by the realization of just what we have lost- a reminder of the void in our hearts. It will be marvelous, beautiful, and painful.
When the time comes that you recognize this pain, you might want to fix it. You might feel like it’s your job. But sweet girl, you can’t and it’s not. Your smile lights up our world, but it is not a band aid to our pain.
You cannot take away my grief because I do not grieve for you. You are you and she is her. You are worthy of your place in my heart because of who you are as an individual, not because of the thing your breath has done for me.
Love is shown to the living through things such as quality time spent with each other or a warm embrace. We aren’t able to do those things with your sister. Our love for her is displayed as grief. A mix of joy for having known her and sadness for having to give her up.
So remember, when you see me sad, it’s not your job to fix it. It’s just me loving your big sis. And if you need me to love you at the same time, I can do that too. I’ve done it all your life already.