I hate going out in public anymore. I especially hate going places where people don’t know our story…Kenley’s story. I feel like everyone should just know what happened to our family. Can’t they see the pain and hurt that I wear across my face day in and day out? Maybe I’m just expecting them to be able to see how terrible I feel. Maybe I don’t look as bad as I feel?
Landon had t-ball practice yesterday. I took him alone because Shane worked. I knew that I was feeling anxious about going alone, but what other choice do I have? When we got there one of the other families was unloading their car too. Of course. It’s the family who has perfectly spaced children (+ 1 on the way ). I know, I know. People are going to be pregnant around me- I get it. It’s not their fault Kenley died. But it still fucking stings.
Before K, we had two miscarriages. Of course those hurt; they were soul crushing at the time and still sting. But, they never made me lose hope that I would be able to give Landon a sibling. I always felt like no matter what we would still get our rainbow baby (a child born after a loss). When we ended up getting pregnant with Kenley after many failed fertility treatments, I just KNEW she was it. This was my sweet rainbow girl! Boy, was I in for a huge smack in the face.
I was pretty happy that the hugely pregnant woman decided to sit on the other side of the baseball diamond, completely out of my sight. The practice went on perfectly fine, and we were finished about 45 minutes later. When we made it to the car, I found myself trying to hold back tears. What would Landon think if I just started sobbing after he had a pretty awesome practice? I let a few tears roll down my face as he happily told me about the practice (like I wasn’t there and hadn’t seen it) from the backseat.
It just hits me at odd times, anymore. I realized I wouldn’t ever be able to bring Kenley to Landon’s t-ball games. I had seen that vision in my mind so many times. How cute she would look in a little dress, and hat to keep the sun off of her sweet head. How Landon would run over to us between innings to give her a little kiss, or touch her hand and say something cute. I knew how proud he would have been to have his sister there. Now I notice him looking around at everyone else’s siblings there.
Quite frankly it breaks my already broken heart into a million more pieces. I told Shane later that night that I just wanted someone to say her name. Just ask me how we’re doing, or say you’re thinking of Kenley. Just say her name. She was real. She is my daughter. Say something. Anything. Talk about her.
Someday Landon will understand the lengths to which we are going to give him a sibling. To add another member to our family. Seeing him grieving is the hardest part of this whole process, I think. He’s only 5, but he wanted her so much. It does make my heart happy to see how much he loved and still loves her. He’s such an amazing big brother.
Thank god t-ball practice was canceled today…