Seven. Do you love Moana like your brothers do? Are you riding a bike down the street to see your friend? Would we be going to your dance recital this weekend? Or would you prefer soccer because you watch the games every Saturday morning with your dad instead of cartoons? Would you still enjoy holding my hand? Would you still snuggle next to me to read? I imagine we’d have moved on from “If You Give a Mouse a Cookie” by now. Would it be too early to introduce you to Harry Potter?
Everyday I wonder what my daughter would be doing now. But in the days leading up to her birthday, those thoughts overwhelm me. Every moment I wonder just how different life would be if she was here. When I think about Zoey being alive, I don’t picture life with a child with Trisomy 18. I picture her healthy and active. I don’t imagine the hospital stays and constant appointments that I know would have been part of her life.
And I picture her as our only child.
I know that we would not have adopted two babies if Zoey were alive. It’s part of the dance between grief and joy. My boys bring immeasurable joy to our lives and I don’t want to imagine life without them. But if I imagine life with Zoey, they aren’t there.
Today we celebrated Zoey’s 7th birthday by taking the boys to the Zoo and for ice cream. I hope she’s watching over us and celebrating with those surrounding her. There was a book I often read to Zoey and read to Sebastian tonight. It’s called Wherever You Are: My Love Will Find You. On the final page of that book is my message to her on her 7th birthday and every day:
“You are my angel, my darling, my star… And my love will find you wherever you are”
Happy birthday my beautiful Zoey. We love you.
A few other notes: I often start writing days before I post. I’ll put thoughts down and then add, change, delete. I think most people who enjoy writing do the same. And that’s what I did with this post. Then, two days ago I read a blog post from a friend. She wrote about her daughter’s birthday which was April 29th. Many of her thoughts were very similar to mine—in fact I was worried that if I wrote more about Zoey’s birthday, she’d think I’d stolen her writing. But it also reminded me why I often go to other moms who have lost children for support. Even though our journeys are different, and we process our grief differently, many of our feelings mirror one another. There’s comfort in understanding that someone else has similar fears and anxiety. There’s comfort in knowing I’m not alone. I’d love for you to read her blog post. You can find the link below. And while you’re there, you can learn more about Genny, her daughter, June, and the June Jessee Memorial Foundation.
It’s been awhile since I’ve written about what’s going on in our lives. I looked back and my last blog post was from Jordan’s adoption day more than a year ago. Mostly I think I’ve stayed away because I’m just exhausted at the end of the day. These two little humans have boundless energy. I’m thankful for the bonus time I had with them last year. But it also meant that I’ve focused nearly all my energy on them. And that’s 100% where my energy belonged. But now I need to spend a little time on me. I love these boys and have no regrets, but I also realize I will be a better mother to them if I spend some time handling the complicated emotions that come with parenting two living sons along with a daughter that died. There has also been so much pain, suffering and conflict in the world, and much of it has left me struggling to process it all. I need to spend a little time writing and a little time focusing on my health as well. I’m slowing finding my way back to taking care of me. Finding time and balance is often a challenge. But long story short, I’d like to try blogging again and I hope I still have a useful message for someone out there!
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