It’s been 14 days since I lost my daughter. It seems like yesterday but at the same time it feels like I’ve been living without her forever. I sit and wonder, how can I possibly live with this misery? How can my heart still beat with this pain? It feels so wrong to move on without her.
Mother’s and fathers aren’t supposed to out live their children. We aren’t supposed to bring home a box of memorial keepsakes. We aren’t supposed to take down a crib we desperately wanted to use.
But instead someone else is dressing their baby girl in her clothes, someone else is laying their child down in her bed. Someone else is using HER things. Her things we donated to babies who really need them. If that’s the right thing to do, then why does it feel so wrong?
There’s a purpose for all of this, right? There is rest for the weary? He is close to the broken hearted?
Whatever the purpose may be, I would have rather her be here. I wanted to raise her. I wanted to take care of her. I wanted all those things that a mother desires to do for their child.
How can a mother have breast milk but no baby?! How can a mother live without her child? How can I move on when all I want to do is live in the moments you were here? God, where are you?
I am eat up with angry jealousy. I’m jealous of every woman I see holding their baby. I’m jealous of all the gender reveal videos, the pregnancy announcements.
I know I’m not the first woman to lose a child and I won’t be the last. I know that she’s being held in the arms of Jesus, but I’m jealous of him too. I want to hold her.
I beg him answers that I will probably never get.
But I do rest in knowing that I will see her beautiful face again. I will hold her. I will always love her, and miss her. When she died, a part of me did too. That’s something I’ll never get back. I’ll never be the old me. I’ll never go back to my “normal”. I’ll learn how to live a new normal. I’ll have to find myself again. I’ll have to learn to live without her.
I love you sweet Elliott 💕
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