Oliver is four now and Ezra is eight months old. I can hardly believe that more than half of a year has passed since Ezra was born. He loves to jump and has the same sweet, sticky-up hair that Oliver had as a baby. He is little, smiley and loves his big brother. His face lights up and he giggles whenever Oliver is playing with him. It is the sweetest thing to watch their brother love growing.
I have a lot of moments when I look at Ezra and my mind races through all that has occurred over the past nearly two years in our family. I can’t believe where we are now. We anticipated our little girl and she died. We ached to heal and feel a sense of normalcy but also to never forget her. We ached for another child, a sibling for Oliver to grow up with. I physically, mentally and emotionally made it through another pregnancy. He is here in my arms, Ezra, my sweet, thriving baby boy. Oliver has grown so much and made the transition from baby to boy. It has all simultaneously felt like a blink and an eternity.
I look at my boys and my heart swells. With each day that passes I love my boys more and more. I feel overwhelmed with gratitude to have both boys here, in my arms. I have kissed their cheeks thousands of times. I have held them when they are in need of comforting. I have watched them grow and joyfully explore new things. I have bathed them, nursed them, dressed them. I see them smile and hear their laughter. I have watched them sleep and watched them play. I have traveled with them and we have celebrated holidays together as a family. I have watched them be who they are and continue to become who they will be. Each and every day that we are given, we live life together, we grow together and my love for them grows.
We visit Lucy’s grave at least a few times each year. Her birthday, her half birthday and Christmas. She is a part of our family and we love her. We celebrate and remember what she means to us and how her little life changed us all.
I get to interact with the boys, we bond, we experience life together. I love Lucy with all that I am. I love her a whole lot; so much so that words will never capture it. One day I hope to get to know her, but for now all that I have are the dimming memories of her in my womb, the cherished moments that we held her in our arms and the photographs of her sweet little features. It feels uneven and unfair. She is my child too.
As hard as it is to admit, my love for Oliver and for Ezra grows, but my love for Lucy just is.
It doesn’t blossom with time and experiences, because those are not things that we get with her. There is no cheek kissing and life lessons, no giggles and hugs. It’s difficult to say out loud, it’s not easy to admit. I desperately wish my love for her grew. I wish I could make it grow, but for now, I can’t. One day I envision us, in heaven, locking eyes and embracing so tight, for so long. That’s the way I always see it in my head. I long for the chance to get to know her and for her to get to know me, and for our love to grow.