One More Day

One more sleep and I will wake to another March 16th. The most tragic, yet most beautiful day I've known. I'm living life from behind my March veil of tears, my broken heart still in disbelief that she's gone forever. I never thought I'd feel like I did that first March 16th...the first March 16th that would ever mean anything to me. Now, it means so much to me. Now, I will picture my little girl each year on March 16th and wonder who she might have been, how she might have looked. What a lovely little girl she'd become. How we might be celebrating her special day.

I carried this precious life within my womb for nine months. My heart bonded with her heart. So, how am I supposed to give birth to my stillborn child, look into her precious face, hold her tiny body, and then separate myself from this little one after months united in the same body?

I should be planning a first birthday party right now. I should be thrilled to be the mother of a one-year-old rascal. A one year old that's learning to walk and is showing more and more signs of her unique personality each day.

Instead, I sit here writing a blog about how wrong this feels. How much my heart hurts.

I'm sure I will decide what to do in honor of her tomorrow for her 1st birthday. And I'll share about it here later. I ask that tomorrow, March 16th, you honor my girl Lily in some small way. Light a candle for her, sing her happy birthday, release a balloon...anything to remember her life and acknowledge that she mattered. That she made an imprint on this world. And if you do something, please let me know. It would mean so much to me. I'd also love to have a picture of Lily's name somewhere or the candle you light for her or the balloon you release for her.

To all of you who read this, thank you for remembering my girl and me. Thank you for joining me in this journey of sorrow and joy.

This journey of learning to live without her...