The sadness in my eyes here will always haunt me. I’ve never shared this Picture publicly before. But this is the face of still birth. I am a completely different person than I had been 24 hours before. Your precious little life has taught so many people about families like ours, seeing pictures of you important.
Three years ago you made me a mother. I held my breath and hoped that against all odds I would hear your cry and prove them wrong. But the room was silent, and you took my breath away. Three long years learning to be a mother without you. I wonder every day who you would be, what you would look like, the things you would love… Questions never answered, dreams never realized and a lifetime of what ifs. But I do know this, in three years your short little life has touched more people than some people could ever hope for. You have changed my world Everlee. Thank you for making me a mother, and for making me proud every single day that despite the sadness and the heartache that you will forever be my baby. Happy third birthday sweet baby girl.
Three years ago I heard Everlee’s heartbeat for the last time, only to find out an hour later that it was gone forever. Life has changed forever since that moment, and I’ve struggled every day since to learn to be a mother without the beautiful little girl who made me one. I will miss you every second of every day as long as I live. So today I’ll mourn your death little girl, and tomorrow we’ll celebrate your birthday, because as utterly devastated as I am to not have you, I am forever grateful that I had you, and that you are my daughter. I love you Everlee.
It hit me smack in the face at 5am this morning. That hot, tight feeling in my chest. The fight or flight feeling. How I loathe you, February.
It’s occurred to me that this is the first time I’ll be working through this month. Her first birthday I was on bed rest. Her second I was on maternity leave. Her third birthday and life is “normal” again. As if anything in this life could ever be normal again.
There’s no wiggly baby in my belly this year. There’s no florida sunshine and disney magic. There’s just bleak, cold, unforgiving February. I guess mother nature knows how I feel.
It’s going to take some coaxing to get through this. Lots of deep breaths. Lots of snuggles from my little man. Lots of time with friends and as many distractions as I can find.
One foot in front of the other, one step at a time.