In My Daughter's Eyes

When I was pregnant for the first time, I was considering staying home with my child after s/he was born. After 3 weeks of not working, I realized that wasn't something I was cut out for. I remember sitting on the sofa, holding my tiny baby and crying. I apologized to her for not being able to stay home with her, and wondering aloud what I would do. I didn't want to put her in daycare. I returned to work when she was 3 months old, and as I told my husband, I just couldn't imagine handing her over to some person, saying "Here's my tiny, defenseless person," and then having her be in one crib out of four or more 8 hours a day, 5 days a week.

In the end, we hired a nanny. I got to work from home and spent nearly every day of my daughter's (and her sister's) life with her. I am so grateful for that.

During those days when my girl and I were home alone, me recovering from an unexpected c-section with no family nearby and my husband working long hours, I would sometimes hold her and dance. A CD I often played was one by Martina McBride.

When my daughter passed away, I put one of the songs from that CD (She's a Butterfly) on the DVD played at her memorial. It contained pictures of her from throughout her life, and that song is the first one that plays. At the memorial, I was happy to see those pictures, and the songs I'd chosen fit so well. In the weeks that followed, we showed friends and family who weren't at the memorial that video and others.

After a while, I couldn't stand to see the memorial DVD, or any other videos of her. I also couldn't listen to that CD. I haven't listened to it since she passed away even though I liked most of the songs on it. It just reminds me so much of her, and of us dancing together, first with her in my arms, and then both of us standing in the old house together.

Last week, I heard a song from that CD, In My Daughter's Eyes, on the radio. I immediately wanted to change the station, but held strong and listened. And the first thing I thought of was my toddler. Somehow, I suddenly realized that the line "She was sent to rescue me" was about her, not my older daughter.

Well, it could be about either. They have both rescued me, from myself, and from other things. But in this case, my younger daughter has rescued me from the numbness, the shock, anything about her older sister's death that might have kept me from living. For her, I get up and don't just survive, I live. I run, I fight, I'm here writing. The whole song, suddenly made me think of her.

And it made me cry. I cried because I missed my big girl. I cried because I sometimes fear the weight of the world is on my baby girl's shoulders. And I cried because I felt as though suddenly life was what came to me first, before the death that has seemed to surround and drag me down for the past 18 months.