#Sorrynotsorry

7.21.14

      During the week that my extended family is in New Braunfels, we spend a lot of time floating down the river. Again, its one of those defining moments in my childhood that got repeated each year and brought all sorts of coming-of-age stories that I won't share here (maybe in the future, who really knows).
       Ash's youngest daughter, who was just 7 months old when we lost Kaitlyn, had really blossomed into her own little personality. She was about 18 months old now, and so different from her sister who had just turned 4 in March. Presley (the older sister) is very much a showboat and absolutely LOVES to have your undivided attention. She is very silly and we have several quotes from her that still make us laugh. Right now, she is exploring her vocabulary and told my uncle that his shirt looked "suspicious."
       Brenna (the younger of the two), is very serious. She looks like she is always just taking everything in and processing it, trying to figure out exactly what is going on and why it is happening so close to her. She likes to have this little crease right between her eyebrows when you talk to her, as if she's trying to figure out why in the heck you are even bothering her this moment. It's so funny to see the two of them together because their personalities are so extremely different.
        That first afternoon after we got discharged from the hospital, my whole family had made it to Dallas to be with us and we all met back over at our house after Alex and I had taken a detour to pick up my meds from Walgreens.
        I remember sitting in the living room when we got home and my cousin Sam, at the time 7 months pregnant with Sir William, had Brenna with her sitting by the fireplace. At the time, I wasn't able to look at Brenna for very long without crying. I missed everything she represented that I would miss out on with Kaitlyn. I missed having a baby with my cousins. I missed having those sweet baby toes to kiss on whenever I wanted.
       When we were sitting in the living room, Brenna had started to cry. I couldn't handle it. I went outside on the porch and just sobbed. Over time, though, being around Brenna has brought me a lot of joy and healing. It probably started around Christmas time when I loved on her for truly the first time. I was able to hold Brenna in my lap and talk to her, that frown appearing between her eyebrows even at 10 months old.
        Back to the present- Brenna in her 18 months of wisdom had figured out that her momma was the only person she really wanted to be with, so she spent the majority of the time following Ash around or constantly looking for her. One time, when Ash was getting her husband to put sunscreen on her back, Brenna decided it was time for Ash to pick her up. Brenna got about a foot in front of Ash and stuck her hands straight up in the air, the universal sign for "hold me." When Ash didn't immediately respond, Brenna's face started to turn that pink shade of red that comes right before a meltdown.
         I was standing a good 3 feet away and said, "Come here, Brenna! I'll hold you!" and she came toddling over to me to let me pick her up. I held on to her and talked to her while Ash finished up, but it didn't stop sweet girl from crying loudly until Ash was ready to take her.
        "Thanks Ames," Ash said as she took Brenna from my arms. "Sorry about that."
        I kinda made a face at her, "Sorry about what?"
        "For her being fussy," she replied.
        "Um Ash, it means she's breathing and okay. It's totally fine." I responded. I thought it was so funny how Ash would think that would bother me in the slightest, but I guess people don't have the perspective that I do now. In the beginning, babies crying reminded me of what I didn't have. It reminded me of the pain I was going through and how hard it is to know that I won't hear Kaitlyn's sweet voice on this side of Heaven.
        But now, babies crying reminds me of how precious and fragile life is. The sound reminds me of how blessed those moms are, even if they're in the middle of the grocery store and frazzled because their baby has been crying non-stop for the last 20 minutes. I can tell you honestly, I doubt that Baby Munoz #2's cries will bother me. And honestly, I can't wait to hear that voice crying out in the operating room, upset at being removed from my nice warm space so abruptly and rudely. I look forward to my child telling me that he/she needs me. I look forward to comforting him/her. I'm beyond ready to have that child attached to me as I already am to him/her.