Sometimes I struggle with the fact that I still grieve over Madelyn. I feel like I am not supposed to. It's like since she never took a breath in this world, because she died before I really knew her, I should be over it by now. So when I get into these funks, my first thought isn't Madelyn. I always try to explain it away with something else. On Wednesday, all I wanted to do was be down town. In fact, I wanted to live down there again. It was so strange. I feel depressed that I lived in my awesome apartment in the cutest suburb you ever saw. I just wanted to live down town and I felt homesick for it. I loaded Sadie into the car and went down town. We found ourselves at Liberty park, and as I walked around and tried sorting through my feelings, I realized it wasn't necessarily down town I was missing.
It's what I was supposed to have there two summers ago.
The summer of 2013. The lost summer. The stolen summer. Is it possible to feel homesick for something you never got to experience? Because that's how I feel. I ache for the summer I never got. I would be a little embarrassed to admit how often I still think about it.
Summer has always been my favorite season. Growing up in Southern California, my summers were filled with perfect 80 degree weather, beaches, pools, sunsets, bike rides, friends, family, and non-stop sunshine. They were magical. Even though Salt Lake lacks the beach and it's much hotter here, I still love summer. Nathan and I pack our summers full of road trips and hikes and picnics. When we first found out we were pregnant, I was so excited to realize our baby would be there at the very start of summer. She wouldn't be able to do much, but I would spend my favorite season with my baby, and we would have a new adventure partner. I planned than summer out in my mind over and over. I fell asleep at night thinking about those first few months of her life. I bought her tiny rompers and sundresses. I found her a tiny bathing suit and googled tips for camping with babies. I dreamed about walking from our down town apartment, to have lunch with Nathan. We had baby sunscreen and a little hat to keep the summer sun off her face. We had her blessing date set. We were so ready for that summer. I knew it would be the best one of my life.
The hardest part of losing Madelyn, was losing what may have been. We hadn't lived life with her yet. We didn't have memories to look back on; we had the pain of memories-that-never-were. We didn't have to change the way we lived our daily lives, we had to adjust to the fact that our lives wouldn't be changing at all. I cried when I thought about the summer. I had obviously thought about her life beyond summertime, but I hadn't mapped it out. I didn't have specific events planned. I didn't have specific outfits ready for her to wear. The loss of that summer, the loss of what may have been, is something I can't really explain. Still, to this day, it makes my heart ache. I feel hollow and angry some days. I feel robbed. I think I always will. My aunt lost her baby at just a few days old almost 20 years ago. She recently told me it never goes away. It's both a sad and comforting thought. I don't want to forget Madelyn. But it's hard to wrestle with the emotions on the days they hit hard.
We left down town because the pain of the broken dreams we had built there, specifically in that apartment, were too much. I miss down town. Sometimes I get mad that her death ruined our perfect apartment and our city life. It was stolen from me, just like the summer. So something as easy as the thought of missing down town, can trigger a whole mess of emotions.
I have an amazing life right now. I really do love where we live. I love the people and things happening in my life right now. I love my husband. He was there with me when we lost our dream summer, and tried to have a happy one anyway. He held me when I cried on the days when our efforts failed. He is the best decision I ever made. I love our ward. I love our stupid cat. And I love my sweet Sadie.
It's no secret that she has healed me and filled every inch of my heart. I have no doubt that Madelyn hand-picked Sadie, and gave her specific instructions on what to do when she got down here to Earth. She is so mellow, so well-behaved, the best sleeper, always happy, and probably the cutest thing that has ever existed. We have been doubly blessed by having her. We lost one daughter, but we were blessed with one that's as close to perfect as I can imagine.
On the mornings I wake up with grief sitting on my chest, and thoughts of my stolen summer occupying my mind, I get to take my sweet Sadie, and live out the stolen adventures with her. I know how happy that makes Madelyn. I am more grateful than words can express that I now can have Sadie with me on those days when the "what ifs" are consuming.
They say time heals all wounds, but I don't think that's true. Time lessens the sting, but it doesn't heal. At least not completely. But I have the promise of the Gospel. I will get to see Madelyn again and be with her. And all the pain I felt will be healed.
Until then, I will take her little sister with me, and shower her with the love that broke my heart on April 13, 2013. And together we will live out all the "may have beens" until Madelyn can join us.
"The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."
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