Selective Memory

I so wish I had a selective memory. 

Isn't it strange though, how our memory works?  Why do I forget where I put my keys, my cell phone, or a piece of important paper at work?  Yet, today at a birthday party, I remembered that my friend had a cousin who had baby girl right before Adelyn was due, September of 2010.

Maybe it was seeing them that triggered it, I don't know.  But it's something I wish I had forgotten.  It's not something I need to know or that is important to me, yet I remember.

So the whole time we were at the party, I couldn't help but watch this little girl.  She was so cute.  All I kept thinking about was that was exactly what Adelyn would be like now.

I don't know what it was about this particular little girl that got me.  I see my neighbor's daughter, who was born three months after Adelyn, and I have seen another little girl who was born 2 months after her, and I talk to a coworker whose daughter was born a month before Adelyn.  At first of course all three of these baby girls were VERY hard for me (why did everyone have to have girls around that time - ugh).  But lately I have been just fine with them.

Not this one, no.  I can't explain my thoughts.  For the first time, I think I saw/imagined Adelyn as a toddler.  I don't think I ever really pictured her, although I had thought of what she would be like.  Many things were going through my head - in a way I sort of liked "seeing" what Adelyn would be like, so I kept looking at the little girl.  Maybe it helped me imagine?  Maybe I was curious?  On the other hand, it made me realize a little more what we would be doing now, what we are missing out on, and how much I wanted another daughter.  It made me realize just how much it still hurts.  Coen has  kind of pushed away those feelings the past 3 months.

There has been a lot that has been triggering memories for me the past week or two.  I have heard about a few acquaintances having a second daughter, and that is by far the hardest thing for me.  Then it seems like everyone around me is having or just had their 3rd child, and that just makes me realize more that one of my 3 children isn't here and I will constantly be reminded of that when I see these families with their 3 kids or hear them talk about how hard it is having 3.  I know in my head I will be thinking, "not as hard as having one of those 3 kids die."  But I probably won't say it, although sometimes I think I should.  A little reality check can't hurt sometimes.  I know even I need to be reminded to count my blessings.

Another thing that has been on my mind is someone I work with had a baby girl this week, delivered by the same doctor who delivered Adelyn and Coen.  It's kind of weird how things work out, that my doctor delivered her daughter - because I actually gave her something of Adelyn's for her baby, because I knew she would appreciate it.  I know she prayed for us a lot and she is a very sweet person.  I think this is why I have been totally okay talking to her about it all.  It just got me thinking a lot.  My mind keeps remembering the day Adelyn was born, instead of remembering the day my first daughter was born, which would make more sense since this is my friend's first child.

So anyway, all these things have been on my mind and seeing that little girl today was the final straw.  I felt the tears welling up as soon as I got in the car to leave the birthday party.  Wouldn't you know soon after, Sierra's song - Bruno Mars "Just the Way You Are" - came on the radio. We played this song at Adelyn's funeral for Sierra and it always reminded me of her even before Adelyn died.  That didn't help my emotional state.  But I made it home without crying - until nap time when both kids were sleeping.  I was laying in bed, catching some rare alone time with the hubby, when out of the corner of my eye I saw Adelyn's urn on our chest of drawers.  And that was it - for the first time since this post when I sat rocking Coen to sleep right after he was born and looked at all the traces of Adelyn in the room - I cried for my baby girl.

I just miss her, and even more so, I miss all that could have been.