We had spent the last 6 months of my pregnancy building up how great it would be to be a big sister.
Telling her all the great things she would get to do with her, how she would be our big girl helper and how her baby sister would love her more an anyone else in the world. Eli was even practising her reading so that she could read to her baby sister when she was unsettled.
She was one of the only people who knew the baby was a girl, she was so proud to have that secret and she kept it so well. (The only person she told was my friend's baby who was about 9 months old at the time- of course this was while we were in the car so my friend overheard by that is beside the point).
She was excited.
Everyone we saw was greeted with "do you know I'm going to have a baby soon?"
It was the hardest thing I have ever contemplated having to do, telling Eli that her baby sister wasn't going to be coming home with us after all. In the end Steve told her and afterward she ran into my arms crying "but I really really wanted a baby sister" I think my heart broke many many times that day, but this was one of the toughest blows. As mummies all we want to do is save our children from heartache and I felt like the worlds biggest heel for setting her up for such a catastrophic fall.
The following day she came in to meet Melinda. Such a bittersweet moment, she was so careful with her and so accepting of her dark "lipstick" and purple "nail polish". We made sure that she understood that although she had been born Melinda was not going home with us. It's very hard to explain to a four year old who has no concept of death that even though she was "here" now it didn't mean she was here to stay. Eli had a listen to Melinda's heart with the stethoscope and we talked to her about what she couldn't hear and what that meant. And then she went off to play and draw pictures.
She is amazing and I think we adults could definitely learn a lot about grieving from children.
She accepted it from the get go, she was (and still is at times) sad that Melinda isn't here, but that doesn't stop her from enjoying the things that have always given her pleasure. She doesn't have the problems of guilt that so many bereaved parents feel when they find themselves smiling or laughing after such a tragic loss. To Elianna it is perfectly acceptable to be happy about life and sad about Melinda at the same time. To Elianna it's ok to cry when your sad, there are no societal expectations that influence her behaviour and as a result I think she processes her grief much better than we do.
At first i was concerned that she hadnt processed what had happened at all or that it wasn't important to her.
Now when she meets someone for the first time Elianna says to them "did you know my baby sister is in heaven"
and I know that is her way of telling us that she loves Melinda, a little sign that her sister is still in the forefront of her mind. I wish I could have delivered her sister safely into her arms for years of cuddles and fights and whispered conversations. But I am so proud of the beautiful way she has of sharing her sister with the world.
We have had a lot of discussions about heaven lately. I can see her trying to process the idea that we are happy that Melinda is in heaven at the same time as we are sad that shes not with us. She has often asked when she gets to go, once even saying that she wished she had got to go to heaven straight away as a baby like Melinda and Jonathon did. I have explained (through teary eyes) that we don't get to decide when and who gets to go to heaven, that our job is to live our life as well as we can and know that one day we will meet there altogether again.
We are so lucky to have Elianna, to remind us of our blessings, to remind us to stop and appreciate the little things in life and to remind us how to live without Melinda with sadness that is tempered by love and joy.
Thank you God for Elianna, she is truly a blessing to this world
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