After Anabelle

It is a photo of my Grandma, Dad, myself and Alexander. My Dad is my Grandparents eldest child, I'm my parents eldest child, Alexander however is not my eldest child.  What is wrong with this photograph, as lovely as it is, is its in theory the 'wrong' baby.  Alexander didn't make us four generations of Villars; Anabelle did. 

As in many things since he arrived, Alexander has taken the place of his sister and we've shared 'firsts' with him that should never have been rightfully his. Such as this photograph. 

Its a painfully conflicted place to be in. He has bought us such immeasurable joy; but he hasn't dampened the sadness that lives alongside him. Every now and again missing what should've been with Anabelle gets all too much.  

Yesterday evening I was particularly teary, probably because we'd spent time decorating her garden for Christmas. Jon told me not to be sad, but once again the forever reality hit hard; for Christmas we decorate our child's grave. Despite how wonderful each Christmas will be with Alexander that reality remains.  

We enjoy all Alexander's firsts; there are so many that belong soley to him, the most special so far being his smile. Ten days on since that first smile and each and every time it still melts us. He is so beautiful. Now all we have to do is capture the biggest brightest smile on the camera to share; a surprisingly difficult feat! 

His first's acutely remind us that Anabelle never opened her eyes, looked at us, smiled at us, cooed at us. Anabelle never recognised us like her brother does. I suppose in essence we are grieving and re-grieving for all the things we lost with Anabelle as we journey along with Alexander. 

I sometimes feel so guilty for enjoying him so much when I miss and hurt for her so much.  And then I feel angry; angry that this precious time can be so easily tainted by our forever grief and that I feel guilty at all. It should've been better. Somehow we should've had them both   Both of our babies deserved a much better deal.

Anabelle should've lived; Alexander should've got to live without our sadness.