Too beautiful for earth

Today is a day that always brings so many emotions for me.  And it always will.  Today marks six years since I last held Sophia in my arms and felt her breathing against me, warm against my skin.  Today is the day I learned the hard truth of loss.  The day I had to start to learn how to live with a gaping hole in my heart.  I had to begin the process of letting go of all the hopes and dreams and ideas of what I had envisioned for her and for her and Ava combined. 

The first year was such a  struggle, a mess of self blame and such horrible, pressing guilt.  What could I have done to keep this from happening?  Why wasn't I more forceful at the OB the week before when I knew in my gut something was wrong?  Why? Why? Why?  It was a question that haunted me day in and day out for the first full year and probably 2 years after that.  Occasionally, that old self blame and guilt arise.  I've worked hard for my head and my heart to KNOW there was nothing I could have done.  Sophia's story was written by God's hand long before she came to be...I have often had people tell me I should be grateful for the time I had with her.  And I am.  But oh, how I wanted so much more.  More time, more cuddles, more time to love.  Just more. 

This is the first year that I haven't been horribly depressed on this day.  Sad, without a shadow of a doubt.  But not the do nothing, say nothing, hear nothing, BE nothing kind of sad.  I still wish for more time with her and for everything to have turned out differently...I do know that if I change one thing, I change everything.  And who knows what that would mean...would it have meant Sophia was saved, for Ava to pass?  This is something I won't know until I ask God face to face one day. 

I think grieving the loss of a twin, while the other survives is tricky and I think it slows the process down.  I have a friend that lost a single baby (a few months old) many years ago and she recently told me that after all of her other children left the house, she was finally able to come full circle with the grief process.  And I believe her.  I have so many responsibilities and my children need me to be here in this moment with them...my own personal needs, including my grief, are often put on the back burner. 

Here in our house we talk about Sophia.  Ava tells everyone she's a twin, but her sister was sick and went to heaven with Jesus and she isn't in anymore pain now.  It's bittersweet.  I wish Ava would have had the opportunity to know her more...and their link that was severed that day, well, I can never know how much that cost Ava.  The day Sophia died was the WORST day Ava had in her entire NICU stay.  So many what ifs...

I do know that she is in a better place and I also know that God has interesting ways of weaving sorrow and joy together.  I was reminded of that today when I realized, this, the 6th anniversary of Sophia's death is also Levi's 6 month "birthday"  Joy and pain all mingled together, just like all other parts of life.  Joy and pain, Happiness and Sorrow, the past and the future...

God promises me in Psalm 30:5 "Weeping may last through the night, but joy comes with the morning."  Some nights are so long they feel never ending, but the sun always rises.  Some days partly cloudy, but many, many days the sky is a brilliant blue and the sun is shining.  Hope for a wounded, beaten heart. 


And in that bruised heart, I'd like to believe that these next words are true:

"An Angel with the book of life wrote down my baby's birth, and whispered as she closed the book,
  'too beautiful for earth'! "