My family

We took some photos of the three of us the other night. Lolly was so rapt we both got down and put our heads next to her. I think she even struck a funny photo smile, the kind that becomes a little kid's trademark (mine was always a very demure cocked head, like Lady Di used to do - it's difficult to find a photo of me pre-15 years old without it). She turned from Steve to me, over and over, and made all those breathy, awestruck baby sounds I've waited years to hear from my own baby but have always made do with getting close to nieces/nephews, kids at Creches where I worked in my younger days, etc.

When we uploaded the photos to the computer, I was so overwhelmed by them. To me, they are awesome. To anyone looking at them, we are the picture of a happy family with their first little bub. All the time in the world to actually get down there and take that snap. And here's where the familiar taste of bittersweetness hits me.

Do I ever have to let go the fact that this is not my whole family? The sum total of "us" is there physically on that play mat in that picture, for all anyone who doesn't know us or our story knows or cares. But there is one very special, achingly distant big ol' soul who is a part of us yet never there, forever just out of tangible reach. Will I ever get to a point where I introduce me, Steve and Lauryn as "my family" and drop the explanation that we also have a big sister, Ellanor, who died as a baby? It pains me every time I have to bring her into it, do I add her to cards at Christmas time especially now we have Lauryn? I feel like, to make her existence real to Lolly, I would surely have to include her as a part of our family.

But it's also uncomfortable to do so. I am certain there are some people (probably through their own discomfort) who would assume it's me "not coping" - that ridiculous turn of phrase which I despise so much in the way it's used as a blanket term - and not letting go. And yes, it is true I shouldn't worry about what other people think. It's not that I worry so much as the fact that I would dearly hope everyone gets the fact that Ella is ALWAYS going to be included in our everyday lives (although she's not spoken of very often, as such, but she's just interwoven into our family just like any family member whether or not you spend your days talking or thinking about them). That it is always going to be extremely difficult on holiday/family occasions for us, despite the fact we have a second child now. I am keenly aware of Father's Day coming up. A day I have said before that, like Mother's Day, is not an important day in this household - it's a gimmick day if you ask me or Steve - but we recognise it as special to other parents in the family and also feel the pressure to attend celebration of those two days.

I'm suspecting the assumption this year will be that we'll be so ecstatic that we now have Lauryn to share these days with. But to try and explain that it just makes them so very much harder because we should be receiving hand made cards from an excited 2 1/2 year old now would make me sound like I'm a glass half empty kind of person.

If I look hard enough, I see Ellanor all over this photo. In the whole series of them we snapped giddily with our little Lolly so excitedly looking at our faces so close to hers. Every time a moment like this happens, I will be jerked back to a feeling of loss. Of immense pride and love. And loss. It will never be shaken or grown out of. Not distance nor years nor new memories will ever erase it. Ella lives alongside us. Forever 4 weeks old. But also forever Lauryn's older sister. As Lolly gets older and older, day by day clocking up new milestones, so too does my feeling of Ellanor - I think of her as being older than Lauryn despite the fact that she is now almost two weeks older than her sister was before she left this Earth.

And here endeth the ramble. Before I overthink it all.

These are the posts which get me thinking I really, really need to make my lunch date with Alliecat. Soon.