Year Three

As I approach year three without Ella, I find that December once again has brought great joy and great sadness and once again, they coexist in a way that is so delicate and so complex that I still find that words fall short of describing it.

I am changed. There is a time before Ella and a time since Ella. Those days each year that are the days she was with us are so sacred. And so few.

My grief is a part of who I am. I am the sister, the friend, the daughter, the wife and the mother that I am because I carried her, I held her, and because she lives in me. I carry her forward still and there is not a moment in my life that I am not acutely aware of her absence. It is painful and at times it feels like a boulder on my chest, but it is no longer lonely. I can no longer find loneliness in my grief. Instead I find my mom, my dad, and my sister. I find Lennox and Iris. And I come here and I find all of you. Thank you for all of your kindness. Thank you for sharing her with me.

I have met many other loss parents this year. I am grateful for each of them and I am proud of their determination, their vulnerability and their courage. Each of them has helped me just by taking their next breath, but many have done so much more. I wrote this past fall that the platform of Ella’s Soapbox does not belong to me and with love, I have asked to share their babies and their stories. The first six are ready for the world.

I would like to share with you Clive, Winnie, Rebecca, Faith, Kenley, and Arley.