Why do I look up March 16 and try to find out whatever I can about that date? It's her day and it's like, I want to know whatever I can about it.
Or, why do I google each month what a so-and-so month old baby would be doing, should be doing. This month, it's been seventeen months since I last held her. Seventeen months she should have been living and breathing on this earth with me and growing and loving and twirling and learning. This month, it's what your toddler may be doing. And oh, how my heart leaps to my throat and that word keeps resounding over and over again in my head...toddler. toddler. I would have, should have a toddler? Not a baby anymore. A toddler. I'm the mother of a should-be toddler. She should be walking up steps and speaking two-words? But, in my mind, in my heart, she will always be a baby. Even thirty years from now, when I wonder who she might be...would she have married? Had babies of her own? Gone on to be a voice for unborn life? Yet, even then, she will be my little baby girl.
Would you think I'm crazy if you knew all her newborn baby clothes haven't been put away yet? Her newborn baby diapers are still on her unused changing table, that's still in her room. And her decorations are all still there. It's like this room has been frozen still and is stuck on March 16. All these things are just waiting and waiting for a girl that will never come home. Yet, I can't find the gumption, can't work up the courage, to put these things away, let alone sell them. And even though I have a brand new car-seat, baby tub, and all-things-baby that are perfectly fine to sell, you know what, I could never sell them. And not only that, I can't imagine letting another baby one day use the stuff. Not even my own baby. And I wonder why, why, why is it still so hard to even think about putting all her stuff in storage? Not even getting rid of it, just storage. But, it's a thought where my mind doesn't want to go. And my heart can't detach itself from these feelings that I don't understand, yet they are still there.
And you know what else...I don't even know what seventeen-month old baby girls should be like. So, when I see one that I think could possibly be about her age, I find myself wondering if that baby might have been born in March of 2010. And if that mother knows how blessed she is to have her precious child. And I hate not knowing how she'd look, who'd she be.
Sometimes it feels like I'm expected to go on living as if she never was. When, really, I am who I am because of her life. I am going where I'm going because of how the Lord changed me through the blessing of knowing and carrying her.
The Lord has brought much healing to my heart and continues to mend the pieces of my heart...but, I also know that losing a child is a wound I will bear for the rest of my days on earth. And no amount of time will ever take that hurt away.