I've been holding out on you. One week ago today, our family grew.
We are a family of 3+1, a summation which *should* equal four, and yet one of us is forever missing. My heart still breaks thinking I will never get the chance to have everyone here, all at once. Like it's just too much to ask.
This is the little sister, Grace Jack McCannell. Born at 9:11pm May 1st, 2012. 8lbs2oz, and 20.5 inches in length.
Sixteen months to the day her big brother made Scott and I parents, he gave us this gift- the chance to be parents to a screechy babe once again. She arrived a week or so ahead of her scheduled c-section, but that is a story for another day.
My thoughts are a little incoherent as I've been working on this post over the past few days... Nothing seems quite right, and I find myself coming back to make adjustments... I'm just going to hit publish because if I don't do it now, I don't know when I ever will.
She looks so much like him, it takes my breath away at times. I see her daddy showering her with kiss after kiss and my heart swells for them, and yet breaks for all Jack is missing... All we were robbed of in losing him. I watch Scott smile when he looks over at us nursing in bed beside him, I witnessed him take her for walks in the middle of the night when she was restless at the hospital. He is every ounce the father I knew in my heart he would be.
Having a little girl takes some getting used to. I love all the pink hues, but oh how I miss all my sweet baby blues. This daughter of mine wears many of the things I had purchased for him, and as I type this she naps beneath the soft baby blue blanket her Nana knit for her brother, but didn't quite finish before he was gone. I had to run an errand today and upon returning home, I loudly exclaimed, "we're home now little boy", only for the last syllable to catch in my throat. It still hurts, 16 months after his birth, and nearly 16 months after his death... I still long for him.
She "talks" in her dreams, mumbling- making soft little coos- her little eyelids fluttering while she sleeps. I hope in those brief moments between dreams she can see him... I tell myself she is talking to him, telling him all about the things we have done, all the kisses and snuggles she had during the day. I hope she tells him we still talk about him, that we still miss him every second of every day, and how much we wish we could have both of our beautiful babies in our arms.
Tomorrow is 8 days since her birth- the point at which in his short life he was declared so his organ donation process could begin. She will have been alive, officially, longer than he ever was. That hurts to think of. Of course I've always wanted her to outlive him, but it still stings to know that his time was so very fleeting. She is a very real example of all we are missing.
Of course this time has been joyous, but I would be remiss not to mention how deeply my heart hurts for Becky, at the loss of her beautiful daughter... All this after losing her sweet Liam in January 2011. Since reading about Evelynn, I have been so very angry for her. At the root of it all, for this injustice to have happened twice, to a wonderful set of parents, is outrageous. I am furious at the world for taking such a beautiful little soul from her parents and I will never quite be able to wrap my head around any of this.
13 hours ago