Monday, April 12, 2010
Lauren and Noelle
April 25th is coming up and it is a significant day in my life. It is the 3rd anniversary of Lauren’s funeral services. It is also the day that I started writing again. I didn’t even realize that until, in preparation for this week’s blog, I pulled out my journal of three years ago and read that first entry on April 25th. Reading it again for the first time was interesting for me. It was like reading the writing of someone else. I was struck by the rawness of the emotions and I was saddened for the woman that lost her baby girl. As emotional as it was, I was glad I read it. The odd thing about losing a baby - losing Lauren - is that for everyone else, her life is forgotten. What is remembered is my experience, but Lauren as her own entity, as her own person, is long gone in the minds of most. That will never be my reality. And I don’t want it to be. The words remind me of her life.
Here is a portion of what I wrote on that day. And although I was seeking meaning to my loss, much of this still rings true for me.
April 25th, 2007.
I had a profound moment today at the burial site/ceremony for my baby Lauren Marie. I missed her. Terribly. So terrible it physically hurt, Even though I never experienced her life on this side of my womb, she was still mine. I still knew her intimately and although I only knew her for a few months, I knew her.
I still turn my eyes away when I see twins.
Let me tell you about Lauren Marie Poindexter. She was the calm one. She was peaceful and relatively quiet. She was an observer. Noelle was the doer, always moving, always doing.
Whenever we looked for Lauren – Baby A – she was there. Steadfast and predictable. Noelle would dodge and move. Never wanting to be monitored or spied on. But Lauren, she was the anchor during my pregnancy. I’ve entertained the idea that Lauren was so still and anchored because their cords were so twisted and entangled. But when I sit with that thought, my heart – my core tells me otherwise.
What do I believe about Lauren’s life? I believe she came to do what she was supposed to do – help me bring my Noelle, my joy, my laughter into this world. Could it have turned out differently? Of course. I could have two beautiful healthy identical baby girls. Right here, right now. But it is what it is.
Maybe when the “crisis “ came, Lauren realized they were in trouble and she – the anchor – decided to loosen herself from the only person she already loved. She loved Noelle, she protected her, she covered her, she saved her. If Lauren had not slipped away, they both would have died.
I love you Lauren. I miss you so much. My only regret is that I will not see you grow-up. But Noelle shows me you every single day. When I look at her sleeping – I remember my only experience holding you after delivery. When she laughs I see what would be your smile. When she cries, it your wrinkled forehead I see. I know she rolls under the sofa, or tries so desperately to crawl, that you would be right there watching her every move. But you – you would do everything in your own time.
I’m sorry you left me. I waited so desperately to have you with me too. But I thank you. And no matter what - I am still your mama.
Baby, I did the best I could. April 25th will always be for you.