The Story of Pie

[BonBon]

I'm not entirely sure DH remembers what my name is. He refers to me as "Pie."

I was gearing up to print some photos and came across these from last summer.

A baby vignette:



Alex is the pusher, and Catie is the pushee. The middle picture of Alex's huge grin just kills me! I had to share.

[BonBon]

Re: The Story of Pie

So...generally speaking, I'm not one to share anything too deep about myself. But, I find a need to write.

Tomorrow is the second anniversary of Mari's death. So few people in my life ever acknowledged her death - they just smoothly transitioned into calling my daughters "twins." My dad never said a word, nor did my brother. Out of my entire extended family (my mom has 6 siblings and I have a ton of first cousins) only one cousin and two aunts expressed sympathy. We opted not to have a service for her because it was too private and personal. Our pain was too great. I wasn't willing to put my grief on display when I knew her death affected no one but our little family.

I have never felt like I was allowed to talk about it - who wants to hear about dead babies? Whenever I brought her up, I was chastised because my other two survived the pregnancy and I should be grateful. She is still my child - I have every right to grieve for her! It's as if were she a singleton, then I would be allowed to cry. But since I have the other two? Forget it.

I am aware of her absence every hour of every day. I see her two sisters grow and hit their milestones, and my joy at seeing them is tempered by my sadness that she isn't here too. Sometimes when I hug Catherine I try to imagine that she is Mari, I try to see Mari in her but I can't. I can't imagine a different personality behind her sweet face. It kills me not knowing what she would be like. I can see her face, hear her husky little voice, hear her laugh, but it's Catherine. Would she be just like her? Or would she be laid-back like Alex? I'll never know.

I grieve for all the things she'll never do, the person she will never become. I will never see a first step, hear the first "mama", see her off for her first day of school. There will be no high school graduation, no prom dresses to buy, no going off to college, no wedding, no children of her own. Nothing. All I've got is photographs, footprints, her hat and her blanket. And an urn. The urn I chose is perfect - it's got three birds on it. Two are together and the third is flying away.

Lest anyone think I need to get over it, move on, whatever...this is how mothers of dead babies feel. You can't know it until you're there. Most days are normal, sometimes I feel almost happy again. But there will always be an empty seat at our table.

Kevin and I are going to spend the day at a park in Ithaca. We did it last year, and it was a peaceful way to spend a sad day.

Mari Anneliese...forever loved, never forgotten.