Missing her Ruby

The last time Kate held her baby sister. It was a very special moment, and one I will never forget.

Every morning I walking into Ruby's nursery, and opening up the blinds, and say,
"Good morning Rubes!"
Most of the time Kate is with me, and she says it too.
At night we close her blinds and turn on the lights in her room.
It just makes us feel good.
This morning when Kate and I walked into her room, Kate saw the box of Ruby's clothing and blankets that was just returned to us. Her whole demeanor changed. She ran her hands across the box, and gently touched her clothes. She looked up at a picture of Ruby and then back down to her things. I asked her, "What are you feeling Kate?" She looked at me and very quietly said, "I am feeling very.....I am feeling like I really want to see her."
So we sat down on the floor and went through her things and talked about Ruby. I pulled her into my lap, and we just rocked and were quiet until Kate said, "I really miss that Ruby."
Me too Kate, me too.

Nap on my chest

I remember this perfect day, it was about 8 months ago. Ruby was so tiny. Kate was so thrilled about her baby sister. Matt had gone back to work. I was feeling a little more like myself again, and so content with my role as a mother and wife. I was proud of myself because I had gotten ready that morning, and gone to the park with the girls. After a fun morning, I put Kate down for a nap, and nursed Ruby Jane.


I was about to lay her down in her cradle, but I just couldn't! She feel asleep on my chest. She was so sound asleep, and was curled right into me. She also had my necklace in the palm of her hand. She loved playing with my necklace. I thought I would just enjoy holding her for a bit, and then lay her down and get things done. But, I had a little voice tell me to just hold her. So I did. I held her for 3 straight hours while she slept. Kate slept the whole time. So it was just me, and my sleeping newborn on my chest. Oh how thankful I am that I did not go lay her down. I would not be sitting here recalling that perfect afternoon. Oh how I wish I could go back to that day.

Preschool

Kate has been excited for Preschool for months and months.
I actually remember taking a walk with her when she was probably 20 months old, and she heard a school bell, and said, "I want to go to school!" We have been counting down to this day, and it finally came. We laid out her clothes the night before, and talked about how to be a friend, and she was beaming! She was so excited all morning, but then got really shy when we walked in. It was so fun to see her in a school setting, and interacting with all the kids. I am so thankful for my big preschooler!













This girl is impossible to get a normal picture of! But I sure love her silly faces.

One Month

It has been one month. One month since my world changed forever. Well, to be more accurate, it has been 8 months, and 2 weeks since my world changed forever.
We spent the weekend being spiritually nourished. The feelings of peace were welcomed, and the things I have learned have given me much to think about.
I feel stuck. I don't want time to move forward, because it means it was been that much longer since we were with our girl. But, I want time to move forward, bringing us closer to her. I am just not ready to do anything. I am functioning. I am getting up, I am getting dressed, and I am staying busy with friends and family. I am eating. I am drinking. I am running. I am breathing. But that is really it. I am going though the motions, and trying to avoid the emotions.
Last night, when all was quiet in our home, we ended up on the couch watching little videos of Ruby on our phones. That is when it hits me the hardest. Pictures or videos of us with her. She was REAL. She was our baby. We held her and bathed her and sang to her. She knew us, and loved us, and smiled and laughed at us. That is when the reality of our life hits me. We won't get that back for a long time. We have our memories. We have thousands of pictures (thank goodness I was obsessed with taking pictures of her). We even have videos. We have read books, and talks. We have talked to other families in our situation. We have talked to a general authority even. We have testimonies. We have SO much. But, we at the end of the day, we still don't have her in our arms. It doesn't matter what we do, how much we suffer, how much we learn, how much we cry or scream...she is still away from us.
So, one month out...where are we? We are here. We are just here. The longing and missing are worse. The memories of those last 48 hours, are getting foggier, thankfully. We have strengthened testimonies. We are closer as a family. But we have a huge gaping whole in our home right now.

Today I am missing Ruby so much I feel like I am slowly dying inside. We went to Target today, and just being there, walking the isles, just felt wrong. To me, going to Target was always my way of show myself that we were a normal family. We might have been hooked up to pumps, and have Ruby hidden away in her seat, but gosh darn it, we were normal.
Today I didn't feel normal. I felt like I had a big black X on my forehead. I felt so wrong to be acting like a normal little family shopping around, when all I wanted to do was cry. I could not look at the baby section. I almost went down one of the isle by habit, and when I realized I wouldn't be needing anything, it felt like a huge pit in my stomach, and a fresh wave of grief washed over my whole body.
You know where I feel the most normal these days? The cemetery, at Ruby's place. If I look sad, or I am crying, whoever is watching knows the reason why. If I am smiling and happy, whoever is watching knows I must be remembering a sweet moment.
I haven't accepted that she is gone. I am realizing this. When I allow myself to really think about what has happened, I can't describe what goes on inside of me. Sometimes I honestly think it is a dream. How could it NOT be a dream. Oh please be a bad dream. But, it is not. This is my life now.
I have moments where I think everything makes some sort of sense, and I relish those moments. I know I will get to the point where I will be more healed, and more at peace, but I am just not there yet. I feel my Father in Heaven. I feel His arms around me. But, I know there are times that he has to back up a little bit, let me feel, let me grieve, let me ask "WHY!!!?". He knows that I need those moments to heal. But he is there. He is there when I need him.

She would have been 8 months today. You know what? I am not strong. I am not doing this well. How does one grieve the lost of a child well? You don't. You survive. One excruciating second at a time. I just want her in my arms. I want to stare into her eyes, and have her look back, straight into my soul so she can feel how much I love her.