Thursday, September 16, 2010

That Time of the Year

It’s that time of year for me. I am nearing the anniversary of Noelle’s birth and Lauren’s death. Every year it creeps up on me and I have to remind myself why I may be moving slower and am more introspective than usual. Overall, I am feeling pretty good, but the truth of the matter is I know my emotions are brewing. I can’t help wonder about what could have been as Noelle grows and changes. She is my big girl. Despite her little size, I finally have stopped thinking of her as a baby. Noelle is in school now. She goes to a great Cooperative Nursery School nearby and loves it. She doesn’t go every day, so on the mornings I tell her she is going to school she lets out a loud, “Yippeeee!” complete with fist pumping. This morning I felt a familiar emotional tug as I watched Noelle skip and twirl down the hallway of our apartment building towards the elevator. I marveled at how agile she was, how sure she was on her feet, and I couldn’t believe that she was going to be 4 in a matter of days.

I watch her black backpack with the pink and fuchsia hearts bounce up and down as she skips, I take it all in; her tiny curly ponytails with tiny bows, her skinny splotchy legs, and her sparkly sneakers, so worn down there is barely any sparkle left. “I must throw them out soon.” I think to myself. I happily gaze at her smile that is so broad it causes her eyes to squint. I catch that rare glimpse of myself.

Noelle reaches up to press the elevator button which she knows is way too high, when she can’t reach, she hunches her shoulders, feigns exhaustion and says with big dramatic breathes, “I…can’t….reach…it.” I press the button and she giggles. For a minute I see two. I see the shadow of Lauren behind her, and I can sense the presence of those sneaky, “what ifs…” They aren’t concrete thoughts, but I know they are there. Quietly I usher Noelle onto the elevator and wonder what it would be like trying to rustle identical twins around during the day. Would she cry when Noelle cries? Would they fight? Would they talk in unison or finish each other’s sentences? My older son insists that Lauren would be “nicer” than Noelle. I can’t help but wonder.

Around this time of year, I have learned to let myself be. Not try to over analyze how I am feeling at any given time. I have stopped beating myself up, adding more suffering on top of my sadness. It is what it is, while it is.


  1. Hi,

    Im your newest follower from Mom Blogger Club. Have a great weekend.

  2. Beautiful writing and ((hugs)) to you. Found you from MBC and so glad I did! Come on over and visit me when you have time.

  3. How beautiful... I found you on MBC and very glad I did.

    Please stop by my site and visit

    Have a wonderful weekend with your wonderful family :)


  4. My sympathies for you at this time. Delightfully sweet story though.

  5. From MBC as well! I am so sorry to hear your pain, as I remember all too well, losing my precious angel Alexandra Christine on the day of her birth.

    I don't think anyone can really understand that feeling of void, loss and emptiness that rushes in, during what is supposed to be one of the most joyous times, motherhood. I picture little Lauren and Alexandra holding hands playing together in Heaven.

    Take care, you will always carry the memory in your heart of a blessed angel that God chose to take care of and cradle in His~

    Blessings, Lisa

  6. Hey CJ,

    I can only imagine what it must be like to have this little thing bouncing around your life, constantly reminding you of what you have and constantly reminding you of what you've lost. It must cause such dissonance. As usual, you express it beautifully and with such detail. I feel like I was at the elevator with you.

    I came down the stairs the other morning, and my son jumped up and ran toward me saying, "Nananana!" Sort of an excited, happy jibberish thing, since he's 7 and can obviously talk. But he jumped into my arms and just clung to me for about 30 seconds and said, "That's the stuff." I kind of, in a weird way, feel like I was channeling my mom for him for a minute. Isn't that odd? I don't know why these things happen. Anyway, I figured you would understand. . .