Sometimes I feel like this is the only place where I can lament my sweet, non-existent Olivia. Most of the time I don’t want to share anywhere anymore. Yet, I continue to be surprised by the reminders, the things that sneak in my heart and hurt a little more than normal.
Like, Valentine’s Day, for instance. Not typically a day meant for children, other than the cute little Valentine cards they share at school. Today’s spark didn’t start with that, though. I was filling in some family info on ancestry.com for my mom and paused on whether to add all my children. I almost didn’t because I didn’t want my mom to be sad the next time she logged in, but that’s no reason not to acknowledge a life so I went ahead and filled in my sibling’s kids, too, to make Olivia’s date of death a little less shocking.
What struck me was the imagery of father and mother with 2 girls beneath our names. The little pink profiles of what should’ve been my family. Although I love the sweet little pink profile asleep in her bed right now, there should be another one nearby.
Oh how it hurts to be reminded so casually of what should’ve been. It’s so cruel, what happened to us. I of course had to go look at her photos and they’re just so…horrible. So ugly. So the opposite of that adorable pink profile on ancestry.com. It’s such an unbearable thing we’ve learned to live with, and I’m struck by how easy it’s become to just go about my day like nothing ever happened until something just sticks. And pokes at me until I’m curled up in a ball trying to remember how to forget again.
This is who I am.