Learning to Dance Again pt. I

The grass is turning. The leaves on the trees are about the size of a mouse's ear. The Spring flowers are putting on their show. (about a month behind schedule...) Lilacs are my favorite flower of all times. There is one particular place I go every Spring where I am surrounded by lilacs. It is the cemetery.As I posted yesterday, I was gone. To the cemetery. We have a few graves to visit. Grandparents, and my mother-in-law I was never fortunate enough to meet. But, there is one reason we head that way - it is to visit my daughter.

You probably know by now that we have four children. A boy, girl, boy and ohhhh boy. However, what most don't know is that we have had five children total (in five years time - yikes!). My girly girl was an identical twin. A mono-amniotic twin. (The two babies are in the same amniotic sack.) Without getting into details, let's just say this can lead to complications such as cords tangling - which is what happened. Our girls were taken by emergency C section one February afternoon. One came out wiggling and one didn't.

Portrait drawn by T.Halverson
from photo taken in delivery room

All I will say today is that as a parent it is very hard not to just lie down and die right next to your child. To hold your lifeless child's body is something that rips the life right out of you. This was 8 + years ago.

Each day since has been a journey. I have been learning to live again. To get up each day and not have it be the first thing on my mind, to not go to bed with a heavy heart. Learning how to make it through each day....and finally, learning how to dance through life again. Our journey has been a bit different since we look at the child we lost everyday. What I mean is the girls were identical. How one looks the other would have too. I know lots of people lose children but very few of them wake in the middle of the night to a little girl standing beside their bed and get confused. Is this real or is it a visit from the other side. If you lose a child you go through the process of , I wonder what they would have looked like or what they would be doing - it is almost more torturous to witness exactly what you are missing every day. Yet, it is a gift. A fine line to walk - trying not to teeter over the edge you are balancing on.

handprints from Alyse
taken at the hospital

I am not on this walk alone, I have my mate. My partner, my dearest... statistically we should not have made it through this struggle, most couples don't. It should have been too much, yet we survived. Together we are relearning the steps to this dance of life. We still step on each others toes sometimes - but we are learning the steps together, hopefully taking more steps forward then back.
We have since then had two other babies. A boy that we very much wanted and a gift in the package of a very unexpected boy. Who really plans on having 5 babies in 5 years time? Not me... but, I did it.


I love this cemetery. It is the Leaf Lake Finnish Cemetery. All the old head stones are printed in Finnish. It is peaceful, up on a hill, surrounded by fields on one side and a pine stand on the other. There are random flowers and bulbs that bloom from mourners of the ages past. Eagles, pheasant, humming birds, deer, and other critters make their way through. The wind blows and the sunset casts lovely shadow. The only traffic going by are family and friends heading home down the dirt road.

Beside being lovely we chose this cemetery for three other reasons 1) it was free, there were already a row of family plots available 2) there is family buried there already 3) it is 2 hours away from my house. I didn't want to be that mom that spent all her time staring at a headstone - I needed to move on... to step forward, not stay in that moment. There are still some days that it is hard to breath. Only the last two years have I been able to help plan my girly's birthday, and there will be days that will be joyous and unbearable all the same. I am no longer the same person I was, nor will I be again. But, I have learned how to dance again, something I always found joy in before.