It’s her color. Ruby — her birthstone. I wear red and the ruby necklace Grant got me and the earrings that Sarah and Steve got me. And my mommy charm bracelet with little tiny memorials for each of our babies, on Earth and in Heaven.<\/p>\n
As he was sorting through our files, Grant found pictures that he hadn’t seen in years. We were really picture happy in June, 2001 and July. On her due date (3rd) and on the Fourth. You can see them below here. And then nothing. It’s like we dropped off the face of the Earth. And we did, sorta, for awhile.<\/p>\n
I’ve still got pictures from her birth that I haven’t looked at yet. My SIL took them and gave them to us in a little book. Grant looked at them and said, “Honey — there’s too much grief on your face. I don’t think you should look at them right now.” That was 4 years ago. I still haven’t looked at them. Someday I will.<\/p>\n
Grief’s a funny thing. I think God doles it out in dribbles and drabs so that you’re not overwhelmed. I’ve had mamas of stillborns who are now grandmothers themselves say that they wept bitterly when they heard about Elise. And I guess this week of sad is just another way of working through the grief. Last year I was still on a prolactin buzz with Isaac. The year before I had just passed the 1st-trimester milestone with him and was focused on him. The year before was her first birthday in Heaven, and my darling Grant took us to the Magic Kingdom to remember. I cried the whole day but it seemed like such a perfect place to remember a little princess — with parades and fireworks next to a castle.<\/p>\n
My boss awkwardly but sweetly checks on me this week. It’s raining buckets outside. I still cry easily. I miss her. I can’t wait to make up for all those birthday parties in Heaven.<\/p>\n
Oh, how glad and happy when we meet. It’s her color. Ruby — her birthstone. I wear red and the ruby necklace Grant<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[14,17],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-100","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-family","category-remember"],"yoast_head":"\n
\nI’ll fly away.
\nNo more cold, iron shackles on my feet.
\nI’ll fly away.<\/em><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"