August 25, 2009

My chest feels heavy. My eyes are blurred with tears. My 6 month old daughter sleeps in the bedroom across the hall while I sit and remember the sisters she will never know. I write this on August 25th. The day 2 years ago we found out we were having twin daughters and the same day we found out we were going to lose them. I've felt it coming on the past few days.

There is a part of me that I think subconsciously pushes these memories from my mind because right now...in this moment...life is good. I fear that it will change in an instant, like it did when Allison and Emily were born. It's unfounded, I know, but when you experience loss, in any way, shape or form, there are those thoughts in the back of your mind....what if this happens again?


It is so interesting how and when the thoughts of Allison and Emily come. Most recently, when we were driving to have lunch at a park a few weeks ago. Nothing was said to bring them to the forefront of my mind, but all of a sudden, they were there. My girls and all of the moments surrounding their birth. More often than not, when I think of them, I think from beginning to end and play out the entire scenario in my mind, but it stops when we said goodbye to the them the last time. The moment when I had to hand over their bodies to the nurse in the hospital. I don't think of their memorial service even though that is the one tangible place where I can go and remember them. I think it is because we stand in the confidence of eternity and we are intentional about including their lives in our conversations (to those who know our story). Just last night, Mike and I were wondering if Anna Claire looked like them. Yes. I'm confident that she does.


Their birthday is September 4th. These days in between the 25th of August and September 4th hold so much weight than the other days of the year. It doesn't feel as heavy as it did last year, but a presence I know will be there for the rest of my life.