My second child and our first daughter, Camille, died and was born on June, 30 2011 when I was full term at 38 weeks pregnant. I gave birth to my rainbow baby, a second daughter, on August 31, 2012. This is me trying to figure out how to be a mother to my living son and daughter and function in society after our tragic loss.
It was one of those fantastic days. We woke up and went for a walk as a family down on the beach. We walked to the lighthouse, let the waves chase us, watched Kai chase seaguls and then did family meditation on the sand and talked about all we were grateful for: eachother, the sun, the sand and ocean. Kai even added that he was NOT grateful for the pokey sticks that hurt his feet while walking on the sand which I thought was pretty darn cute.
We went home and made kale chips and smoothies and we did some water color painting and blew bubbles, then I put little down for his nap. Daryl left to go hang out with a friend for a couple hours. He never does this and so I am always very supportive of him spending time with friends. After he returned we headed off to FallCreek (where I grew up) to go hiking in the redwoods. On our way to the forest Daryl told me that while he was driving home from hanging out with his friend he wanted to switch lanes; there was a black car approaching and so he was waiting for them to pass, only they didn't pass him, they just drove next to him. He looked over and it was a car full of highschool aged girls holding up a sign that read: "Show Me Your Penis". Daryl said, "Can you imagine if that was your daughter, driving around holding up a sign saying "show me your penis"? I started to cry, my heart caught in my throat...my daughter will never be able to do anything that stupid and adolescent because SHE'S DEAD. Then I started laughing because I was crying that my daughter would never be able to hold up a sign that read "Show me your penis"..that sounds silly...I know, that is why I was laughing. BUT, I think you get what I mean here. I was not crying about the sign, it is all the things she will never be able to do, see, learn, experience...and my husband said "can you imagine if that was your daughter" Oh those words just pierced my heart. I imagine my daughter being alive ALL THE TIME. Not one of those imaginings included that sign- haha -but I am sure she would end up doing some dumb shit thing or another and we would have to talk it through and hope she made better choices in the future. Damn...I wish we got the opportunity to go through all of it. Stupid girls!
We had a really lovely time in the forest. It was my backyard stomping grounds and the air smells so good. Ferns and redwoods growing along a creek. Autumn leaves falling onto the forest floor, Kai talking about wanting to build a forest house out of ferns. We did some walking meditation and discussed how peaceful and full of love we felt in the forest. We said thank you to the forest for growing beautiful things for us to look at and making the air clean for us to breathe. Walking across logs and finding mushrooms. This is the childhood I had. I love watching my son thrive in the surroundings that helped mold who I have become.
I wish our amazing day at the beach and walking in the forest was not tainted with the missing of Camille. I wish she was in my ergo kicking her little feet along the walk with us. I feel like the sweetest of days have just this side note of bitterness. I try and be present, fully present for my son, my husband, myself, BUT how can I COMPLETELY enjoy when a piece of my heart is constantly longing. A piece of my mind is always wondering and wishing. My whole heart WISHING. Do we ever stop wishing? Will I ever be able to be fully present, completely enjoy something? And now in 30 minutes it will be 4 months of wishing it was different. Wishing my daughter hadn't died. How could this have happened? It just breaks my heart over and over again.