More, from Eli

Yesterday was a hard day (none of them are easy days but some are easier and some are hard). Yesterday fit in the hard category.

I actually had a really fantastic time with Eli.

And therein lies the problem. I am so conflicted.

In 2009 I wrote this post about our stroller breaking. It wasn't really about our stroller. I wrote it to express my sadness at things changing, at the boys growing and wanting more independence. I wrote to Isaac, to tell him that it was OK to take change slowly, that we would do it together.

Isaac learned how to ride his bike. In fact, he is really good at riding bikes and has moved on from training wheels. He's on to bigger and better things. I found a way to move on too, to let change into our lives. A year after that post, I remember another walk we took as a family. My children were riding their bikes, Mike was walking next to me with the dog, and I was lamenting yet another change to happen in our family. We were discussing seriously the possibility of having another baby. I distinctly remember thinking, "But things are so good now. Why do we have to change things?" But it was time and I knew it was time so I opened my self to change and just as always happens, it was good--fantastic, fulfilling, and right.

Now Laila is gone and I can't help but think about that walk and that conversation I had with myself. Now our lives are back to the way we were before she came. When she was first born, I found myself in some silly situations where I forgot to bring a diaper bag--I was just so used to walking out the door without anything. There were at least two times when I had no diaper and a seriously poopy baby. Now we are back to leaving the house with no diapers. The kids are all potty trained, they all get themselves dressed. Two of the three go to school and the mornings are all quiet and easy.

And it's not supposed to be that way.

Yesterday found Eli and me at a fun, new park close to Isaac's school. We spent a great time racing each other down the slides, pushing Eli on the swings, going for a walk around the park, and helping Eli climb the rock wall. He was beyond happy. He just kept saying, "I love being with you." My heart was so happy to spend time with him too.

The ache for Laila was there but my happiness for Eli was there too.

And then Eli asked, "Mom, why does Heavenly Father want to take babies away from their mommy's and daddy's and their families?" I tried to explain as best I could that Laila was perfect and that Heavenly Father took her back so that she didn't have to be tested and live on this imperfect and sometimes unhappy world. His next question shows that he doesn't understand that one single bit, "Well, what if I changed this world? What if I gave her all our toys and we played all happy music for her? Then she would be happy and He would let her stay with us."

It's hard to have these discussions with Eli (they happen every day and the questions are always similar) because I know why Laila was taken from us but part of me wants to say, "You're right, Eli. I don't know why Heavenly Father wanted to take her from us. Wasn't our house happy enough? Didn't we love her enough?" But I know that's not true. I know that's not why she is gone. I know that even if Will made that time machine he keeps talking about to go back in time and figure out what happened to her so he could change it and fix it and stop her from dying, something else would happen. Heavenly Father would still take her from us.

So I just pushed Eli on the swings higher, and listened to him sing, "Heavenly Father didn't want Laila to stay with us, so he took her. Why did he take her?"

Then we came home and I got in the shower and cried.

And I'm conflicted. I'm conflicted because I miss Laila and I love my boys. I'm trying to give them all my love and attention when I can. I'm trying to appreciate this time I have with Eli where my attention is completely his. I'm trying to appreciate the ease of our lives as far as going places and doing things.

But this isn't how things are supposed to be right now. This was not part of the plan. I'm not supposed to be at the park at 8:15 AM pushing Eli on the swings. I'm supposed to be rushing home from Isaac's school, pulling a crying baby out of the car seat to feed her and put her down for a nap.

I feel like I'm being untrue to Eli and untrue to Laila. If I appreciate him fully and all the time I have with him, I feel untrue to her and if I mourn her absence then I'm being untrue to him. I know Laila would want me to be happy and to be the best mother possible to Eli and I am trying. I hope one day when he grows up and reads this he will say, "I had no idea mom felt like this. All I knew is that she loved her time with me and we had so much fun together."

I'm not sure why I was doing this but I was trying to find someone who understood what I was feeling and I did a search on the internet, trying to find a blog or something to read that described my feelings. Instead, my search led me to a video on youtube of a baby who died of SIDS. The creator of the video had written things like, "This is unfair. We don't deserve this pain."

I had to stop the video early because I realized that she didn't feel the way I did, she didn't understand what I understand. I felt so much pain for her because I realize her pain is worse than mine. We do deserve this pain because we chose this pain. Life is fair because we are promised everything will be made up to us. We chose to be tested, we chose to accept what God would give us. Right now I wish this wasn't the trial God thought I needed in my life but, it is, and I'm willing to accept it.

In the meantime, I'm trying to trudge through the hard days, hoping for more easy ones, and enjoying the time I get with Eli. I'm telling myself that Laila wants me to spend time with Eli, free from guilt that I'm truly enjoying myself.