Hello 2014. A new year, and fresh start. Time is moving forward at a nearly uncomfortable pace. I want to scream, “SLOW DOWN ALREADY!” But time listens to no one.
So 2013, I overcame the terror of the first year without Zoë. It was one of the hardest days of my life, but with Esmée’s fast arrival I sneaked past that date distracted.
Then came Esmée’s time to grow older than Zoë. I felt like I was holding my breath the entire day before. I wanted to check in on her every 20 minutes the night before just to make sure that she was still breathing. But the morning came, and she popped awake happy and HEALTHY.
Zoë’s birthday, Thanksgiving, and Christmas stack up upon each other all at the end of the year, Boom, Boom, BOOM. I barely have enough time to recover from one before another one hits me.
My silence this past Holiday season was mostly due to my constant state of feeling like I was trying to glue my world together with bits of sap, and gum. We brought Esmée to have her photograph taken with Santa. It hit me as we were standing in line that I only had one of my daughters with me. I think the only reason I managed to not run out of the mall was because I had Zeppo there with me. I wanted to scream out that I was missing my daughter.
I was relieved in a way that the Santa was not the same man from two years prior. Then that thought, two years ago. T-W-O years. It would have been Zoë’s third Christmas. This just echoed over, and over, and over, and over again in my head that whole day, week, and month.
Christmas day came, and I did my best to hold myself together amidst the revelry. All I wanted was to lay down where I was and sleep. To dream away the day. But Esmée would turn to me, and grin with those bright gray eyes, and I would smile and know that she is my glue, my bits of sap, and gum. She kept me together.
What pressure to place on your child (whither or not they are aware).
So here I am in 2014.
I am on the brink of having a nine month old. In only a few more days (January 18) Esmée will have been on the outside longer than I carried her on the inside. She is growing and changing so quickly I can barely keep up. With this I know that I need to work on me, before she realizes how much I lean on her.
I cannot use her to glue me together. She is a great source of comfort, and healing, but I also need to stand up on my own, and pull myself together a bit more for both of our sakes.