"One of the worst things that you can do to a bereaved parent is to stop using their child's name. Once they feel as if everyone else has forgotten about their child or expects them to "move on", an entire new wave of anguish takes over."
I borrowed this quote from a friend that knows my pain and misery. It is such a true and meaningful quote. Our daughters actually died on the same day.
I am always writing that I just want people to remember her. Maybe I need to be more specific with people. Don't just remember her, speak of her. Say her name. Say it Out loud where others can hear it.
It doesn't have be a long drawn out memory. It could be a simple, "Megan would have liked that" "Megan was such a sweet baby" "Megan had such a cute quirky laugh". Thats it. Just one little sentence. Then you can go on and talk about whatever you want. I don't expect huge conversations, just a little bit of "hey, I remember."
We have all moved on. It is inevitable, it was going to happen no matter how hard I try to hold onto the past. She is the past, but it feels disrespectful for people to never say her name. The only time she is ever mentioned, Is when I do it. I often feel like If I'm going to be the only one to talk about her, then maybe no one wants to hear about her. Megan this, Megan that. Once in awhile I'd like someone else besides Emily to bring her up.
Its easier to forget.
Its easier to keep that door shut, the feelings it might awaken.
Its harder to remember. To remember her smile and her joy and the little stories and memories we all have of her.
She is my daughter and she was here and she was alive and she was loved.
So many times I will sit on the couch and just ache for someone to remember her. To speak of her, when I sit on the couch I remember her crawling on the floor, cruising the furniture. I can see her little face peeking around the corner. Am I alone in this?
Sometimes when I speak of her it feels like a dirty word. A "she who must not be named" kind of feeling washes over me. I mention her and in a blink of an eye the conversation has changed. Safer topics. Lets not mention the unmentionables.
Its part of grief, its going to happen. Its already happened. It just gets lonely sometimes. Went to the cemetery today to make sure she didn't have a bunch of dead crackly flowers and my heart was so happy to see someone had already been there. Someone had already cared.
One time my sister in law texted me and asked about Megan's bottom. Diaper rash. Specifically Megan not my kids in general. I saved that message on my phone. It might not have been a great conversation but it mentioned her. My advice about how I took care of her. Seems silly but it meant so much to me.
I'm going to have another baby and I can only imagine this gets worse. New babies make everything better right? Doesn't matter that I keep dreaming that while in the hospital I won't even hold the baby won't even look at it because its not her. In my dream everyone hates me, "How dare she?" I want this baby to be a boy because I don't want people to look at pictures of Emily and Megan and make assumptions. At least with a boy, people might ask questions.
The dreaded "How many kids do you have?" question is such a crappy one. At first I tried out the "1" because at the time it was just so much easier than having to explain everything. I knew I couldn't talk about it without crying. Then came the guilt. I have 2 kids.
So then my answer became, "I have a 6 year old and another who will forever be 18 months old." Sometimes people asked questions, sometimes they don't. I tried the "I have a 6 year old and 1 angel" but everyone just assumed I had a miscarriage and would tell me their miscarriage stories. Its so hard to find the right answer, the balanced answer.
Do you remember that time Megan did......
Is this pregnancy different than it was with Megan?......
Are you scared?.....