September 21, 2016

For so long (three years, but it honestly feels like so much longer) I’ve wanted days like this.

Days filled with pink laundry, a reason to shop in the girls’ section, making hair bows and pieces, dreaming of what princess she might favor the best at four years old. My hope? The Little Mermaid.

For years I wondered what it would have been like. Having a little girl around.

For years I questioned God.

For so long I avoided friends and acquaintances in real life who had daughters close in age to my daughter, when possible.

For years I wondered how life might never be complete this side of Heaven, but at least partially restored if we could have another girl.

Four weeks ago I realized a lot of these wonderings and questions when our newest daughter came five weeks early. My hampers had been filled for weeks with pink laundry awaiting her precious arrival.

I kept forgetting that I did have a reason to shop in the girls’ section again. It did not feel real!

I was becoming more and more ‘okay’ with being around other four year old girls, and baby girls.

And time would tell who her favorite princess would be…

but after a few weeks of her being here, I felt grief beginning to resurface. I feel grief strong lately. It’s almost like the force of nature, death, grief and birth reminding me of this forever-hole in my heart.

As the years slip on, and we near a fourth year without our firstborn, (and on the outside we look like a typical American family, with one boy and one girl) nothing makes me more satisfied than feeling this emptiness where she should have been.

Life is sweet. It is overflowing with joy – more than I ever dreamed or even wanted after losing Jenna. Sometimes life pushes through though, and there are days I wonder how on earth life can be so ‘okay’. So good. And here I am, a bereaved mother enjoying it.

But it’s times like this, when that forever-hole in my heart pulls at me, I know that it’s okay.

It’s okay to enjoy life again.

It’s okay to smile.

It’s okay if people naively assume that I’ve moved on.

Because I haven’t. This forever-hole that can move me to tears over my first child who I barely knew but loved more than life itself, only days after bringing home a precious new babe… it will always be there.

A gentle, yet forceful reminder of this life of a grieving… blessed… homesick mom.

You can read more about our second rainbow's homecoming here and here.

Franchesca Cox
Author Details
Franchesca Cox is the founder and Editor of Still Standing Magazine. She is currently seeking her Master’s in Occupational Therapy, a yogi and author of Celebrating Pregnancy Again and Facets of Grief, a creative workbook for grieving mothers. Learn more about her heartwork on her website.

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