Spring is Here

For as long as I can remember, I have loved Spring. Ever since Clara died, I hate it. I've been dreading it since we lost her for several reasons. She was due in the Spring. In Spring, everything comes back to life, and new birth happens. But, my baby can't come back to life and her birth was so sad. I see the flowers coming up and the buds on the trees and it makes me happy one second, and then the next second, sad and angry. Sad that my baby will never smell a flower or see them bloom and mad that she died and loses out on everything. She was born in the winter. I wanted winter to stay forever because that meant we weren't too far from her. But just like everything else, winter ends and spring comes whether I want it to or not, and life continues on. The only reason we keep moving forward is because we have to. There is no choice. I would give anything to have Clara alive again, but it doesn't work that way. For whatever reason, she is dead and she can't come back.

There are no more physical reminders of Clara. My body is back to normal, and there are no signs that I was ever recently pregnant. I didn't get any stretch marks from her, and my stomach went back just the way it was before I was pregnant with her. I no longer hold my stomach missing her. That time has passed. Which in a way, is a good thing. I don't feel empty in my stomach anymore. There is a hole in my heart and soul that is from her and I will always miss her so so very much. My counselor had said that the body knows how long it's supposed to be pregnant, and when your baby comes early, your body still knows that it should be pregnant. I think that since Clara's due date is just around the corner, my body and my mind know that I soon shouldn't be pregnant anyway. 13 days. In 13 days it is her due date. In 13 days it is also Easter. If I was still pregnant, I know exactly what we would be doing right now and how life would be. Her nursery would be ready. Her crib set up, her clothes hung in the closet or put away in the drawers. Her tiny diapers all stacked and ready to use. Her baby bath with all of her soaps and lotions set-up in the bathroom. Stuffed toys and blankets layed out for easy use. We would be happy and excited. I would be wondering if that contraction meant I was in labor, or if I was just being too excited. I would be huge and uncomfortable. I would be wishing the pregnancy to be over with and to feel like myself again. I would also be cherishing these last few days of feeling her kick and move inside me, knowing that soon, they would be laying a squalling baby in my arms and we would stare at each other and I would fall so desperately in love. Ken would awe at her and the kids would smile and laugh and fight over who got to hold her next, or change her diaper. But that won't happen. She has already been born. They already layed her in my arms, and I already stared at her and fell desperately in love with her. Ken was in awe of her and so in love with her, but was also so heartbroken. The kids saw her and smiled, but not really smiled. They also loved and love her, but can't do anything for her. None of us can.

We knew that the happy scenario above wasn't going to happen a week before she died. We knew she was going to come early, and realistically, we knew she would only be in me for another week, maybe two. Had she lived to be born, she would be coming home any day. Our preparations would have been different because we would have needed to take special precautions with her because she would have been more fragile for being a preemie. But we can't even do that. We aren't preparing for her at all. We just get through each day without her. Some days are better than others. I can never really tell how the day is going to go. I could wake up happy and cheerful, and then as the day goes on, get sadder and more frustrated, or vice versa. She was a beautiful baby. A perfect mix between Nathan and Isabel, Ken and I. Where Bella looks so much like me, Clara looked more like her daddy. She had Bella's mouth, Nathan's nose, my hands and feet and eyelashes, but she looked mostly like a girl version of Ken. I have stared at her pictures so much and have memorized every tiny detail. Ken will make a face, or a certain expression, and I see Clara in him. It makes me happy to see that.

She was such a sweet baby. That sounds odd to say when she died before she was born, but I know my children, and I know that much about her. I think she would have been kind, and loving, and a bit shy. A gentle soul. A snuggle baby that would love her family and make all of us so very happy. She also had a strong spirit and was a fighter. She showed us that by living for 5 weeks while being in distress. My doctor said that most babies would have died before Clara did. She wanted to live, she just couldn't hold on anymore. In the week that we knew she was very small, I played her "Keep Holding On" by Avril Lavigne. I haven't been able to listen to that song until recently because it made me too sad. Now, I listen to it and instead of telling her to keep holding on, I tell myself.  Now, I HAVE to believe that it will get better and I won't always feel so sad this much because this sucks and it's hard to feel her loss so hard and so much of the time. I know I will always miss her and I will always love her and there will always be a very important person missing from my life. I will carry her in my heart forever and when I die, I hope to run right to her, scoop her up, and give her all the hugs and kisses and love that I couldn't do for her in life.