The first year it had been about 5 and a half months since we had lost Madeline. That year I was still fresh in my grief. I was still lost in the thoughts of "How is this my real life?" I also had just found out I was pregnant with Alice. So I was sitting there grieving for Madeline, thinking about the fact that I had her sibling growing inside me, worrying about my current pregnancy, feeling guilty that already my entire focus wasn't on Madeline, wondering if it was too soon, wondering how I was going to make it through the holidays, still at a loss for why this happened to us and so much more. It was a lot. And while it may sound like I just sat there being overwhelmed (and for a bit I did), I left feeling better than when I got there. I allowed myself to feel everything and let some of it out. I was surrounded by people who understood and I felt safe with. She was remembered by everyone who attended and that meant so much. One of my biggest fears/worries is that she'll be lost some day. When those of us who knew her or knew of her are gone, who will remember her?
The second year, last year, I had Alice, my Mom and a close family friend with me. It was important for me to go alone the first year (Adam has to work during the time of the service or he would have come too). I still can't explain why to this day. I just knew I needed to do it on my own. But the next year I was fine with other people coming with me. I know there are others who would get something out of the service too and I want them to have that opportunity. That year I kept thinking about how lucky we were to have Alice and that she was healthy and happy. I spent a lot of time comparing and thinking about what our holidays would look like if Madeline were there too. I thought about how this was now becoming a tradition and that hopefully it will help Alice feel some sort of connection to her sister someday. I thought about how much can change in a year. I thought about how it's possible to be so happy and so sad all at the same time. I thought about how it's possible to love two children and give them your time and emotions at different times even when one isn't with you. I thought about the balance I was trying to find in motherhood to living child and one who has passed away. Mostly I just snuggled Alice (who was still small enough to be OK with that) and cried tears of sadness and joy.
This year my Mom came with Alice and I again. As we went to the service I was feeling OK. I'd had a few "Madeline Days" in the past couple weeks, but was feeling better. I was feeling more like usual in that the grief wasn't close at hand. During the service there is a slide show with all of the names of the babies we are remembering and honoring. Whoever submits the name can also include whatever else they would like. Birth date, stats, quotes, poems, letters, anything really. As the slide show was rolling by, one letter caught my eye and struck me. It started with, "It's hard to believe you would be 11 years old this year!" I read that and the reality of, "This is my life. For the rest of my life. I will always not have her. I will always think about the 'what ifs' the 'should have beens' the 'if you were heres'" came crashing down on me. It's not like I ever think it will go away. But sometimes I either delude myself or get so caught up in the day to day of life that I don't really think about it. This is forever. For the rest of my life I will always be without her. It was powerful. Afterwards we spent time with some friends we've made through support group and it was so good to share these feelings with them. To feel like you're not crazy. To know you're not alone. That we're all still on this journey. All of us have now had children since our losses and it was also nice to share stories of them as well as assuage some of the Mommy guilt. The reminders that every parent gets frustrated and not to get too down on yourself because you know what the other side is like.
While these services are emotional and have moments of making the grief fresh again, they are worth all of it. I always feel more at ease when I leave. I feel closer to Madeline. I feel better that others thought of her too, most that had never met her. I still hope it will be a way for us to help Alice feel a connection to her sister. I leave feeling more filled with hope and love. I leave feeling lighter, some of the weight I had been carrying and didn't even realize (because I didn't let myself deal with it) is gone. Letting myself have that time to let things out, to cry, to feel everything helps. It lets me feel more positive as we move into Christmas. And most of all it reminds me of the love I had and still have for Madeline. And always will.
Madeline Claire Browne
6/26/13 - 6/26/13
"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart." -A.A. Milne
We love and miss you baby girl. Love, Mommy, Daddy and Alice
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