At the suggestion of a stranger on someone else's Facebook page, I started tracking my moods in relation to the moon's phases. I know it sounds crazy, but there is a clear pattern between the new moon and my sadness. The full moon, too, but not as much. That new moon floods me with grief.
When you learn your baby's gender during the pregnancy, you start to bond in a new way. It's a little glimpse into who they might be someday. The clothes they will wear, the name you will choose, how they might bond with their sibling(s) and fit into the family all fall into place, at least in your dreams. As I am getting to know our rainbow in this way, I was realizing that there was never really a time that I "knew" Violet and didn't know her diagnosis, or at least that something was very, very wrong. The two facts, the essence of who she was (is) as a girl, our second daughter, a little sister, Violet, and her problems came at the same time.
And yet, it seems incorrect to type that something was wrong, even though it clearly was, at least physically. Once I got to meet her face to face, look at all of her, and say, "Ohhhh, it's YOU," it hit me that her abnormalities made her who she was which was part of the reason why I loved her so fiercely. Just as every part of E and our rainbow will make us love them as individuals, every chromosome of Violet made her the sweet little fighter that we met.
I am so proud of her. No matter what my other children accomplish in their whole (hopefully long and normal) lives, I have no doubt that I am as proud of Violet for all she was able to achieve as I will be of them for all they can do.
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