The Closet

Dear Genevieve, 

I started to clean out the closet of what would have been your nursery. I put off doing it for 15, almost 16 months, and I had this lingering feeling that it was time to start organizing it. Today I went into the nursery and put the yarn blocking the closet into the crib that was meant for you. Then I opened the closet door and proceeded to take the clothes meant for you off the hangers and pack them away. 

As I took off little outfit after little outfit, I thought about how these clothes didn't touch your skin. I thought about how I had picked out many of those clothes over a year ago and I would never get to see you wear them. I took the Illinios outfit off the hanger and remembered how I wanted to do a family picture of us all wearing our Illini gear. Tears rolled down my face as I thought about how we would never get to take that picture. I thought about all the things we wouldn't get to do together. 

The past week or so, I have been scaring myself. I read an article about reliving the beginning grief with a new baby. It terrifies me and of course I put myself in my own personal hell. I'm not pregnant and already I have myself scared about having a rainbow baby. I was afraid I would resent a rainbow baby for not being you. I asked other loss moms about their experiences with their rainbows and how they felt after. What I've learned: the feelings are complicated.  I created this fear in my head that I wouldn't be happy with a rainbow because I would go back to the raw, scary place I was in right after you died.  As much as I love you, I really don't want to go back there. 

So as I folded the tiny clothes I had hoped you would wear, I started to wonder if I would ever get to bring home a baby. The thought of your daddy and I not getting to raise and hold a living baby was unbearable. After I folded all that my heart would allow, I went into my room and cried. Eventually your daddy went in there to comfort me. And that's when the lightbulb went off. That's when it all made sense. Resenting your sibling for not being you would be similar to resenting you for dying. It hurts. A lot. But I could never resent you for it. I will love a new baby and ache for your simultaneously. I'm sure it will be bittersweet. And I'm sure at first it will be more intense until I cope with it. 

I know I can do it. I'm ready to. 

I love you and miss you always. 

Love,

Mommy