Sweet Sister

Today Clara played empty Mama's purse, her current favorite activity. She loves to open this little plastic envelope I carry that has photos of her and of Olivia and Ellery in it. I just about never open it, but I love having the photos with me. She spread the photos all out on the floor and picked up one of the twins.

"Sisters!" she exclaimed. It sort of blew me away--I don't talk to her much about Elle and Livi, other than to name them in photos around the house if she points to one. It was such a cherished moment for me, this instant and enthusiastic recognition on Clara's part. She then looked over the other photos on the floor, picked one up and said, "Livia." Our oldest girls look so different and distinct to me, but others who look at their photos often ask how I can tell them apart. Clara chose a photo of Olivia when she named her, and then said Ellery's name when I handed her Ellery's photo next.

I'm sure it was just chance for her to choose the right photo for the right sister, but it still was such a meaningful moment for me, filled with hope that we will find a way to explain this crazy family she's come into, so full of love and so broken and incomplete at the same time. It made be believe that we will be able to help her understand how we can love her so completely and be grateful for what time and circumstance has brought to us in her, while still always longing for the little girls who came before her. I know there will be times she wishes our family could just be like everyone else's, but I also hope that when those days pass she will be grateful for the rich and hard-fought identity that is ours.

I recently wrote a Mother's Day piece for our infant loss support group newsletter on the legacy we've become a part of as mothers. Click to read.