A New Year

It's a new year - another year without my sweet Briana. I can't believe she's been gone for so long; that two new years have now begun without her. Two Thanksgiving's, two Christmas holidays, two New Year's, two of mommy's birthdays, two of daddy's...Over 18 long months. She would be approaching her second birthday in March, accomplishing so many milestones. We're missing out on so much. I just hope that she's not missing out on anything in Heaven - that she is as happy as can be with her Heavenly Father; that she knows nothing on this earch can come remotely close to what's in Heaven - the love, happiness, the joy.

Her sister is now 16 weeks old, just eclipsing the age Briana was when she died. It's becoming exciting to see her grow; soon she'll grow like Briana never did. We will soon be able to experience a 4-month-old, we've never had a 4-month old. So it brings some excitement, yet also some sadness along with it. She will be doing what Briana never got the chance to do; sit up, crawl, walk, talk. How I wish Briana had that chance. Still, while I watch Aavalyn grow and learn, in a way I will be able to see Briana through her, growing and learning the same. They are sisters; of the same flesh and blood. So when I smile because Avalyn took her first step, I will see Briana taking her first step. And when I laugh because Avalyn said 'mama' for the first time, I will hear Briana saying 'mama' for the first time. And, for sure, right behind those smiles and laughter, there will be tears - because I miss Briana so, so much.

My Fishy

Avalyn is 15 weeks old today...an age I've been dreading. Briana was 15 weeks 2 days old on that dreary July morning. I remember the night before, taking our night time bath together, Brian sitting on the ledge of the tub, counting how many days old she was...106 days. We couldn't believe it had been that many days since our little sweets had been born; since we first laid our tired eyes on her, since we first took her in our long awaiting arms. 106 days...we thought about it for a bit, remembering our journey, mesmerized at how incredibly awesome it is to be parents and to have such a happy baby girl in the house.

How ignorant we were...how naieve...how just plain human we were I guess. Little did we know that the door would come screaming shut that very night.

Briana saw fishies the night before...she held her tiny hands up to the cold glass, gold fins darting from one end to the other. She looked amazed at all of the life inside the tiny glass box. She was hypnotized, her eyes trying feverishly to follow the panicky fish, and she just silently fell into a deep smile. She loved the fish, they were terrified of her. She saw the little freshwater turtles, the same kind Brian and I had in our makeshift freshwater tank when we were dating. She saw a plethora of beautiful birds, fluttering around in cages. She saw hamsters, guinea pigs, even ferrets. But she just loved the fish.

We ate at Panera Bread. She sat calmly, wide-eyed in her car seat, staring at me as I ate. Not a peep, not a stir. When I finished, I hurried to pick her up and wrap her in my arms. I was so proud to hold her, especially that night. I was so proud to be her mommy.

In the bath that night, she moved her hands under the running faucet for the first time. My heart sank. My sweet baby, doing something new every day...always managing to amaze me. She loved the water, she loved bath time.

Thinking back to that night is like taking a knife to my already bleeding heart. But it's a place I have to go...I have no choice. Yes, it hurts, but I love remembering how I felt with my little fishy that night. It was magical. How ironic.