Okay, I have to admit, I'm getting a bit obsessed. The other day, I "caught" Paul recycling a piece of paper from the granite company with a draft of Felicity's headstone on it. I scolded him for wanting to recycle it and rescued it. I'm obsessed with saving anything that has her name on it, to put in her baby book. I also saved the insurance cards we will never use, because her name was on them as well as the letter from the county medical examiner confirming cause of death.
I've saved all the cards we've received (we both agreed on that). And everything from the hospital that touched her body. I am in the process of framing pictures, so that just about every room in the house has a picture of her in it. Minus the bathrooms of course, I'm not that weird.
I also have a new obsession for the color pink. I never much liked the color pink after about two years of having my bedroom painted pink as a child. My birthstone is pink, which I disliked too. But when I got pregnant, I started to get my pink groove on, thinking about the 50/50 chance of having a girl. I bought a few pink things so that if we did have a girl, she could wear pink from the get-go, not yellow and green, which is what Elijah wore as a newborn. (I jokingly referred to these items of clothing as "my stash.") Now I find myself, searching out the color pink. I've even purchased two pink post-pregnancy shirts, adding that color to my wardrobe for the first time in a long time. I'm so sad my little girl is not here to dress in pink. So like Julia Roberts said (with a southern accent) in Steel Magnolias, "Pink is my signature color." It's just another way I can remember Felicity and feel close to her.
I can't believe tomorrow will be seven weeks since she died and was born. I want her here so badly! Everything we do as a family seems lacking since she's not here. I should be struggling to get everything done because I have to nurse her or change her or hold her because she's fussy. She should be sleeping in our bed every night. Ethan and Elijah should be asking to hold her every morning. We should be in awe over our first little girl. Instead we're looking at the only pictures we'll ever have and missing her so much it hurts.
I wish I knew God's plan in this pain. I am comforted by how he worked in my life after my divorce. I thought my life was over then and yet in time, God restored what had been taken away. He gave me Paul, the greatest husband, and more children. So even though I hurt now, I will continue to praise Him through this storm!
Parenting Books A Mom of 7 Reads
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