Friday, September 23, 2011

Still missing Addison

My laptop crashed somewhere around June. My desktop picture for the past 18 months or so had been one of Addison. When I got my replacement laptop, I put a photo of Calvin and Ryder on it. A couple of weeks ago, Calvin (now 5) asked why I threw the picture of Addison away. I told him I didn't throw it away--I just replaced it with a picture of him and his baby brother. He said I should have Addison there instead, so I let him pick a photo of her. He did, and it was the same one I had for all those months. She has her pink blanket with an "A" on it--the same one Calvin has in his room.

Fast forward to this past Saturday night. Calvin was very tired. It was warm that day, and he had his first soccer game, and there was a lot of excitement surrounding that. He snuggled up on the couch with me and, out of the blue, started talking about Addison and how sad he was that she doesn't get to grow up. He said,
"sometimes I think if Addison could have grown up, she would look like A [his 5-year-old cousin]." I told him I thought maybe she would have, too, and said that I was sad along with him. I reminded him how lucky we are that we have Ryder now. And a few minutes later he snuggled up against me and started wimpering, and said something I couldn't understand. He repeated it: "I want Addison." When I put Calvin to bed soon thereafter, he was adamant that his A blanket was on his pillow, with the "A" against his cheek.

I wonder if Calvin gets as pissed with me as I get with other people when I tell him that everything is okay because we have our baby brother now. I sure hope not, because I hate those stupid platitudes still.

I live in a strange place now. I'm coming up on Addison's 2 year birthday, and I've been an emotional mess again (or still--depending on who you ask). I have been through so much in the past 2 years, and am SO VERY GRATEFUL to have my sweet baby Ryder, but he just doesn't replace Addison. And I knew he wouldn't. It's just that I didn't know I would still have moments of such raw emotion this far out from her birth and death. I thought I would feel better and more healed than I do at the 2 year mark.

I wish I could scrap 2009 from my memory completely. Truly, I wish I never got pregnant with Addison, and that's the horrible truth. I would happily take it all away from my personal life experience if I could, because nothing good has come from it. I haven't started any societies or charities or 5ks in memory of her. I'm not a better, kinder, gentler person because of watching my baby die. I still sweat the small stuff because that's what I like to think I can control. I know even more vividly now that nothing I say can take the pain away from people who are suffering personal tragedies. And I know that losing Addison has in no way granted me amnesty from future loss and heartache. And that is probably the worst part.

So since I'm stuck with the reality that she WAS born and she DID die, I want to share her. But being almost 2 years out, it's probably expected that I should be performing at 100%. I should pretty much be "over it," especially since I was lucky enough to have my rainbow baby. I wish I could be over the really painful part, but I'm not. I still miss her, and I still want her, too. And I wish someone--anyone--would ask me how I'm doing and say her name out loud. Addison. She did exist and she did have a name.


  1. Oh Rebecca - this is almost so true for me as well. I can't bring myself to say I wish 2009 never happened but I catch myself referring to 'the awful time we went through to bring a baby home'. Is that really what my first born baby was? 'the awful time I had to get through'

    No but I want to remind people she existed and she matters and I feel emotional as her 2nd birthday approaches and wonder if it will always be like this. The forever nature of living with this still scares me.

    Remembering beautiful Addison with you and sending my love. xx

  2. And I've just realised I didn't even mention her name in the comment - my beautiful precious Matilda. xx

  3. Rebecca, this is such an honest and brave post. I feel like wiping away the last nine months, on top of the pregnant 9 months because then I could be 'back to normal' again. No matter how much time passes, we still miss our babies, we still want them back, they still existed and we'll never, ever get over it. All we can hope for is integration and I guess even that will go out the window sometimes. I'm missing Addison with you (and your Matilda Maddie). Addison is beautiful. x
    Oh, and I think it's beautiful that your little boy speaks of Addison and misses her so. My 5 (nearly 6) year old rarely mentions his baby brother. I guess children handle this loss differently.

  4. What a sad but beautiful post Rebecca. I can relate.
    If I hadn't lost my first baby J wouldn't be the exact baby he is. That's the only reason I wouldn't change things if I could.

    It's heartbreaking to read how he wants her blanket but I'm glad he does, that he wants that connection with his sister.

    And I hate too that going through pain and grief don't protect you from it in the future.


  5. I just found your blog through another I follow. I understand the desire to wish it all away. That has crossed my mind occasionally, but then I remember that then I'd never know that my husband and I *could* have children and we'd have never seen them with our own eyes and felt the love we still feel today, even though they are gone.

    And because it happened to you, and because you're writing about it, you're helping others understand the grief of babyloss.

    Hugs to you...and thank you for that.