I knew today was August 1st, but I didn’t even remember the significance of this date until I was reminded by a shared article on Facebook of a somewhat artsy description of going through miscarriage. The author described her vision of her baby she had so early on, who she knew was a girl named Eleanor.
I have an Eleanor. She also was going to have curls and big brown eyes. I could picture her as a toddler so clearly in my head, laughing and playing in the grass. She was my first baby, and I miscarried her on August 1st, 7 years ago.
I feel guilty that I didn’t remember until this evening. I know in part it’s because I’m in such a better place now, since M, and prefer not to dwell on the grief I had to live with for too long. I also have so many dates to remember. But I am thankful for having seen that article so that I was reminded to spend some time remembering my Eleanor. I am the only one who can remember her.