Mia died on June 24, 2010.  Laine always slept in the middle, between Anna (or me) and Mia.  Mia’s side of the bed was never slept on by Laine for the duration of her life.  She kept two large pillows stacked on top of each other in Mia’s spot.  Laine slept in the middle, on a hello kitty pillow, and a parent slept on the other side near the window on a regular pillow (limited room!) as we needed to take care of Mia medically throughout the night (bubbles in the TPN central line, medications, diaper changes and general care).  These were hard days, and Laine’s presence was invaluable.  She would smile lovingly when we arose to take care of Mia, and we would sometimes muster a smile back.

Laine honored Mia, always.  Whether telling people about Mia at random and unexpected moments (I have a sister Mia – she died and she is in heaven), or talking about her all the time at home “Mia liked it when I kissed her”, or not occupying the spot where Mia slept.   The last point was particularly emotional for us.  Laine piled two pillows in the precise spot where Mia slept.  She never let anyone sleep there after Mia died.  Putatively the pillows at an early age were also there to prevent her from falling off the bed, but Laine was rabid at times if someone tried to move them.  If a pillow fell off, as sometimes happened, in the middle of the night, Laine would invariably get up, hunt for it in the dark, replace it, then return to sleep.  Laine and Mia loved each other.  In many ways we believe they were connected souls.  Laine arrived three years after Mia arrived, and left three years after Mia left.   The entwined spirits of our daughters make for a powerful duo.   They were profoundly life altering for us and for many around us.

When at the park, sometimes a mom or dad would ask me about siblings.  I would never know how to respond, always pausing as I tried to determine who the questioner was, and whether they really wanted to know.  The vast majority of the time, I would respond that we have a son and a daughter, and omit Mia.  Then that night I would feel a tremendous weight, and guilt.  I did not want to dishonor Mia, but I did not know how to respond in a way that made any sense in the situation.  But if Laine was with me, I would be saved:   Laine would say, in one breath “I have a brother who is 11 (or 12 or whatever age Mathew was at the time), and a sister Mia who died and is in heaven.  I don’t have any younger brothers or sisters… because my mom does not like wiping baby’s butts”.  They would be speechless.  Should they respond to the point about the late sister, or the mom not liking baby poop, or what?!  Most would nod, and back away slowing saying “it was very nice meeting you.”.  Some would laugh at the wiping of butts, and a few would ask about Mia’s death.  Laine never dishonored her sister.  She loved Mia, and is connected to Mia.