My perfect girl

I came across a little pink frame this morning while organizing my kitchen, a favor from my baby shower last April. This little frame...it brought me to pieces, made me rush to her memory box to look at her photos - those perfect little hands and feet, that beautiful face! How can she be gone?

Sometimes I tell myself I can live like this, with this overwhelming, impossible-to-contemplate loss. I remind myself that I am healing and that I will go on with my life, however reluctant I am to do so. This morning I am suffocated with the enormity of her death. The pain in my heart, the tightening of my throat, the lack of air suddenly overwhelms me and I am once again brought to my knees with grief. My precious little baby is gone and there is nothing in the world I can do to make it better. I will live with this recurring heartache for the rest of my life. It seems impossible at times.

What is it like to actually give birth to a live baby? I can't imagine. All I know of motherhood is pain and heartache, helplessness in the face of death. It is a dream beyond imagining for me. I miss her so much, I would give my life to have her alive and well.