So when I finally get to a point where I have time to gather my thoughts and write, all I am thinking about is marshmallows, they're white, fluffy, soft, and sweet, but like most anything in life, too many of them will leave one feeling saturated and weighed down...that's how I've been feeling lately. I have enjoyed the white, fluffy, soft, and sweet aspects of life with our Rainbow Baby, but I feel weighed down and saturated with the sick feelings that come along with not having her brother here.
Living in the smiling, cooing, gurgling, giggling, peaceful, happily active moments with our daughter is easy. It's when the sweet saturation is over, whether she's asleep or I am without her, that the sickness sets in. I start wondering how those same moments I enjoy so much with her would play out with Trey, I'll never know, hence the sickly stomach feeling anyone can get after diving into too much sweetness. I am so grateful for our daughter and the marshmallow goodness she feeds to my heart and soul, I used to have that solely with Trey, I still do remember him fondly, but I don't have the sweet living moments that I have with his sister...and that creates a sickly sadness.
Someone once said to me that now that I have our little girl, I can create new dreams, that the nightmare of losing our son is in the past. I beg to differ, it is ever present and ever changing with each new day, especially with each new milestone we get enjoy with LL. Losing him will ALWAYS be a nightmare, but having her proves that even in nightmares, there is a point when we are awakened to find that it is only a nightmare and not all encompassing.
Such is the truth with my marshmallow metaphor, or lame attempt at one anyway...by diving into the sweet moments with our daughter, there's bound to be some not so sweet moments of remembering Trey as he was, never enjoying those same moments with him.
I can only hope I am not robbing LL of anything by lamenting over her big brother, I can't help it, he still is my child, and doesn't every parent think on their child, not matter what state of life?
I am immediately reminded of that pendulum concept, which me not remembering what it's called would drive my husband nuts, but it's when they say "each action has and equal and opposite reaction", that's what it's like. As much as we enjoy and love our daughter and all of her growth and health, when the pendulum swings back to Trey, it's an equal reaction, just a different feeling, and opposite feeling. Whereas my heart warms and fills with our daughter, it seems like it breaks all over again for my son. The silence in mid swing is deafening, I wish I could enjoy them both the same...maybe 100 years from now in Heaven, when I hold all of my babies together, until then I am the pendulum, or is it the marshmallow?