To my darling daughter,
Never in a million years did I think that I would be writing THIS sort of letter to you. I imagined, when we found out we were expecting your sister, that I would be blogging sometime after her birth about the struggle of looking after two babies. I am sorry that I am not struggling with looking after you and your living sister, I really, really am sorry for that.
Instead I am struggling between looking after you and keeping things 'normal' whilst trying so very hard to keep the memory of your sister alive within me and creating a 'new normal' for us. I am sorry that our 'normal' has changed and although you are small, I know you feel the shift too.
I am sorry that there is a dullness behind my eyes. My face knows how to smile for you and my body knows how to comfort you but I am sorry that part of me has gone. Know that it has gone somewhere very special and I hope one day that you will understand that.
I am sorry that sometimes I cry and it makes you come over and put a hand on my shoulder. I wish you never had to know the reason why I cry because it means that one day you will feel some of this pain too. Know that I would have done anything to protect you from a pain like this, as I would have done for your sister.
I am sorry that you wont remember meeting your baby sister. I have photographs of you pointing at her and calling her 'baby' (a memory which will last with me for a lifetime) but I am sorry that for you, it will only ever be memories from photographs. Know that when I had you both in the same room together, even though it was just for such a short time, in that moment, my life was complete and I felt whole again.
I am sorry that you will be known as 'the girl whose sister died.' I too now carry a title but know that I will show you to become proud of that title. I will show you to embrace the title for its better to have loved and lost than never have loved at all.
My darling, I am just sorry that your sister is not here. I am sorry that the sister you were suppose to have wont be here to play with you, to annoy you and to love you in person. Know that I will help you to create memories with her, even though she isn't here. Know that she will still be a part of your life, for you DO still have a sister. Know that she loves you and that love will become a very, very special part of you.
My Eleni, right now it might not seem clear why I am here but my mind is not. You might wonder where it has gone and when it will come back. It must seem strange that my heart is divided although you can't see the presence that has caused it. You are so little still. So know that we have a lifetime ahead of us to love, learn and be together. Know that I will help you as you are helping me each and every day to live.
Know that I love you with all my heart.
I always will.
On the 7th September 2016 at 25 weeks gestation, Holly was born, still after a battle with complete heart block.