The butterfly

We are approaching Mother’s Day and we have a tradition of going to the butterfly conservatory to hang out with the beautiful butterflies and to have brunch.  It’s a tradition that started three years ago after I lost a baby at twelve weeks. In all the literature surrounding miscarriage and loss there were pictures of butterflies, it’s why we go, so she can be a part of it too. I can’t see a butterfly without thinking of her and yes, in my mind it was a girl.  I love butterflies for that reason and those who know me well know that a gift with any kind of butterfly on it to me in one I cherish deeply. They bring me happiness, as if she was right here with me.

She would have been born in May three years ago around this time.  I don’t grieve as often as I had once but every once and a while a deep sadness shadows me and I think I should be sitting here with three children instead of  two.  Sometimes I allow myself to live there, asking how this was fair? In truth I know it wasn’t her time, and her purpose was to help raise me to another level, help me be aware, help me to connect with me.

She’s always there, with me.  Sometimes I think if I have another child maybe it can be her chance, but her chance has passed and her purpose has and is being fulfilled. The truth is I want her here with us, and another pregnancy will not bring her here, the past cannot be undone.  

I often think I failed to bring her here and I did but my failure was her success, it was my success too because in that failure I learned, I grew, I loved, I was aware, I found connection, I found source, I woke up.  I grieve for her today, I’ll greive for her all weekend, I will greive for her always, and will always remember her but I cannot bring her here and I need to accept that.  Grief is natural and I must let it flow but I cannot change or live in the past. 

This is where I am, this is who I am and she is a part of that. 


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