I have a lot of updating to do. Life is beyond hectic, and that sometimes keeps me from actually feeling the things I need to feel. I push them down because I just don’t have time to deal with the emotions.
The “anniversary” of Oliver’s death was 5 days ago. It fell on a Sunday, which means the kids were home and I didn’t have much downtime to grieve, or even think much about, my sweet boy.
But oh, we have a baby now. After 10 years of infertility, and needing IVF to have the babies we had, I got pregnant the old-fashioned way. First time in ten years. TEN FUCKING YEARS. I got the positive pregnancy test a few days after the “anniversary” of Oliver’s death. My due date was the EXACT SAME as it was with the twins. I realize it sounds like I’m full of shit, but this happened. And while the twins were born on March 1st (two weeks early), my sweet new babe arrived on March 20, six days overdue. On the first day of Spring. And her name is Violet.
Violet is amazing. She is the perfect baby… and I’ve never had one of these! She is happy all of the time, she is a great sleeper. She’s just an easy baby. I really never thought I could make one of those.
But, Violet being born in March, so close to Avery and Oliver’s birth day… she’s hitting all her milestones at very similar times of the year, and it’s so hard. It’s so wonderful, but so, so hard.
Violet is almost four months old. I’m feeling my paranoia and my anxiety ramp up. Today was a Friday in July. Oliver died on a Friday in July. Violet ran out of milk at daycare. Oliver ran out of milk at daycare on the day that he died. Violet’s daycare teacher told me that it’s ok, she’s sleeping now, so I don’t need to bring more milk down. I wanted to scream at her to not let Violet sleep! Please! Keep her awake and alive.
I wear Violet a lot in a baby carrier. And I give her so many kisses on her forehead. Tonight, it’s a balmy 75 degrees in here, and we have plenty of fans blowing. Violet’s skin feels a little clammy, and upon the last kiss on the forehead I gave her, she felt a bit cooler than normal. And I instantly think of the last kisses I gave Oliver on his forehead. Hours after he died, as I was holding him in my arms, never wanting to let go. But, he started to get cold. The warmth was leaving his body, and it was time for me to give him up.
Having a new baby after your baby dies can be at times uplifting and comforting, and at other times a cruel reminder of what you once had. And soon enough, once Violet turns 4 months and 8 days old, it will be a reminder of what never was.