“Is she your first?”
The woman behind me in line watches Hope, who bats her beautiful baby lashes back. This smiling stranger asks a question I’ve never once answered dishonestly but still grips my insides when posed.
“No, she’s not,” I smile and say back.
I turn the conversation toward her in a practiced maneuver to prevent further questioning.
“How about you? Do you have children?”
The Gerber puffs and Pampers wipes in her cart lead me to believe the question is safe, but twenty-eight months and a burst-wide-open awareness has taught me better than to assume when it comes to pregnancy and babies. Thankfully, her eyes light up.
“I do,” she said. “I have two. My youngest just turned two.”
I smile and wish her and her family a happy holiday.
We have commonalities, this friendly stranger and I. Both having to do with the number two.
Two years ago, I went to bed on the night of December 8th, anxious and excited about how my life would change in the next few hours. A precious life wiggled around the warm space she’d inhabited for thirty-nine weeks. I closed my eyes, loving her every movement and eager to meet our precious baby, our Eva.
At 8:44 on the morning of December 9th, my world changed forever as a piece of us—our love, our lives, our hearts—let out a blessed cry of resilient strength and endless promise.
Two years later, and my longing for Eva has not subsided but intensified; my love is constant, and my mind’s eye pictures what should be (second birthday candles for her to blow out, calling me “mama,” pushing her boundaries), and what could be (a party on cotton candy clouds, gleeful laughing with her family and friends, playing dress-up with Jesus). My reality is filled with what is: Family Day- Year Two, this year— blessedly— with Baby #2.
Amidst the seemingly endless, inexplicable hardships we experienced in the unexpected, first year of “Life with Eva,” waiting for Baby A #2 was among the very hardest. Hysterical longing, crippling worry, and post-traumatic stress led me to cling somewhat desperately to hope: initially difficult to come by. It was on this journey, as Hope grew and grew, that certain questions began.
“Is this your first?”
“Oh, no? How old is your first?”
And the ever-foolish- “what do you want- a boy or a girl?”
People are inquisitive. People are conversive. People are kind. But, again, that burst-wide-open awareness… yet another way life, and interactions with others, will never be the same.
How very fortunate we are to have our rainbow baby here as we celebrate her big sister’s second birthday. My heart hurts for those who long and wait; we know this journey, too, and we know it’s longer for some than for others.
I have those grieving and longing on my mind and in my heart this season, especially. Over the course of two years, we’ve learned how very difficult the holiday season can be. This December, in honor of Eva’s birthday, love.
Love others. Our friends and family are wonderful at this, and we have been recipients of this love countless times over. Find someone who may be lonely or mourning. There is so much power and comfort in mere recognition. See them. Be with them in their grief. Let them be.
Love yourself. God loves you. Please let us know how we can pray for and care for you. We want to know your story. Experience honesty. Let us pay forward the love and care that continues to surround us.
On the day we celebrate Eva “turning two,” we’ll dress our beautiful Hope in one of her many “Little Sister” outfits. I’ll envision, with a deep and familiar soul-longing, how beautiful Eva would look in a “Big Sister” one to match. We’ll release balloons by her grave, a symbolic “hello” that never fails to make me cry. We’ll visit the zoo and admire God’s creatures. If God has given us such fascinating surroundings here on Earth, what beauty must Eva see in Heaven?
I’ll hold Hope extra, extra tight. Child loss has given me a constant, biting fear, but Eva’s precious time with us has given me an immense appreciation, and God and Pat and love have given me Hope.
Amidst questions and longings and the ‘how’s and the ‘why’s, there are truths.
Our first-born, Eva, forever changed us and gave us a permanent “Eva space” in our hearts and lives. Our second-born, Hope, filled a grief-ridden abyss with her unique light, giving me an incredible, restored joy I wish for all grieving, longing mothers.
Our Eva “is” two. I don’t know how Heaven’s time-table operates; I keep asking God to send me a “burning bush,” a personal, unmistakable message explaining this and Eva’s life now and so many other things. Nervertheless, we are celebrating the two-year anniversary of that remarkable cry, the birth of our daughter, the birth of our Eva.
Thank you to the many friends and family who remember and celebrate Eva’s life with us. Thank you for recognizing us as the parents of two. Thank you for loving us and our two girls…
The beautiful girl I’m beyond-words-grateful to hold in my two arms.
And the one I must trust Jesus to hold in His. To her, to my Eva, I wish the most spectacular, Heavenly birthday number two.