We celebrated Sonny's birthday this past Wednesday. My rainbow boy is a year old.
Psalm feels so far away sometimes, and this is one of them. My darling, my daughter, I can feel her slight weight on my chest still (or maybe I'm deluding myself, but I have tried very hard to remember that feeling), and I look at her pictures often enough I can remember what she looks like but she has been gone for a very long time which is also absolutely no time at all.
And my heart breaks.
This is one more thing we never got to do with her. The second birthday of hers that she hasn't been cuddled for, hasn't been kissed for.
When I got pregnant with Psalm, I thought about how she was due late enough in October that she just might be born in November. Douglas was 11 days overdue; Psalm might have been that long overdue, or she might have been just nine days overdue and born on Esther's birthday, or maybe she would have been born on Halloween. And I remember saying on Facebook that I wanted to make a wee Halloween costume but that would surely jinx the baby to come after that holiday.
That worry seems so...naïve now. So many things from after I knew I was pregnant but before I knew her problems do, and always will. Some part of me hurts to see them, but sometimes I like being reminded of the eighteen weeks of happiness I had instead of the eighteen weeks of dread.
We celebrated her birthday again last year. I guess we always will, even though I never really planned to. I let Duncan, who was nearly seven months, smash some cake for her.
I have said this before. I keep this mental list of things she never got to do. This is the extra sadness of the rainbow child; watching them mark off all the milestones the one who is gone missed out on. I think having Duncan help out on her birthday stacked up with his celebration to make it feel as though he's now had two and she's had none. And he will only, God willing, continue adding things to that list. And the more he grows, the more out of reach she is. And my heart hungers for her.
