How Do I Make it Not Sad for Him?

I took this picture on Christmas Day.  A typical holiday pilgrimage to a place no one wants to spend their holidays.  Where Eleanor is buried is very lovely.  It's in a particularly pretty area of Fayetteville, the grounds are softly hilly, there's a even duck pond.  Folks in the neighborhood are always in it on nice days, using it almost like a neighborhood park - walking dogs and jogging.

I think Ed will like coming here for those reasons but, while I love this picture of him in his Christmas outfit, reaching happily for his sister's flowers, looking at this image also fills me with anxiety for the future.

I want to celebrate Eleanor.  Include her in family events, remember my pregnancy and her life.  And we do.  But how and when do I begin to broach the topic with my joyful baby.  He's one now and their birthdays are very close together in the calendar year.  Which means every January 28th we celebrate the happiest day of my life and a scant 8 days later we struggle through Eleanor's birthday.

I never want him to dread her day or the mention of her name and I don't want him to feel sad - ever. But I want him to know her, to love her with us.

I guess we'll navigate this pass the same way we have made it through all of the other impossible situations presented to parents who don't have their children to hold.  Do it because we must. Figure it out because we've been given no other option.  Be natural and cautious, happy and heartbroken.

But if someday, somewhere, some mom finds this entry and knows just what to do - please, please advise.

Thanksgiving and Christmas

Thanksgiving and Christmas were bound to be fraught with dangerous opportunities to be sad.  But I'd like to say right now that the bulk of the holidays were awesome.  Full of family and laughing and new happy memories.  Everyone in my immediate family (all five kids across 4 states) got together along side significant others for Turkey Day at my parents house.  Christmas was fun and low key first with Dan's family, newly transplanted to Fayetteville and then with mine, back to Joplin, for gifts and meals and FaceTime with the one sibling that couldn't be there.

Now I will indulge myself by recounting the parts of the holidays that weren't so great.

No Baby's First Christmas

That's it.  All of it summed up in one phrase.  The day after Thanksgiving is when my family puts up decorations and all the old keepsake ornaments were unboxed and hung haphazardly on the tree, just like every year before.  But there was no baby's first ornament to hang.  No new person to buy presents for.  No little one to bundle up and bring to church.  No early bedtimes or feedings to interrupt late night board games or conversations. No one's every move being overly documented on cameras and phones.

I am looking forward to next year, when the Pick arrives.  The closeness of these two pregnancies means he will be almost exactly the same age for Christmas 2013 that Eleanor would have been for 2012.  I can't wait 'til we can celebrate with him and hold him.  But I wonder how often I will look at him during those first sets of holidays and think about how similar Eleanor's experience might have been just 365 days prior, in a parallel universe where she lived instead of left.

I am once again blown away by my friends.  A group of girls whom I have been friends with here in Fayetteville for years gave me a beautiful ornament for Eleanor.  A silver, wire elephant that has an E hanging from it.  Simple, not overly sentimental, not sad, just a nice way to bring her into our Christmas visuals.  I love it.  I had been dragging my feet about putting together a holiday card this year but once I had that keepsake, I had a little easier time sending them out.  I loved being able to include her on our card.

When we were planning for E, I kept gravitating towards elephants for decorations.  Elephants - Eleanor, it's not a great puzzle as to why.

But after we lost her, I thought more about these elephants.  They can carry great loads and the old saying is that they never forget.

That's such true sentiments for moms who have lost.

I love you and miss you, Eleanor.  I am remembering you this Christmas, everyday, and looking forward to next year.