Three Years Later and I Still Miss You

December 9, 2017

My heart may be healing, I may not be the same shattered person I was during those early days, but sweet girl I still miss you every single day.

When I see pictures of other mothers with their daughters, when I see girls your age with dark hair and blue eyes, when I look at your brothers, your Daddy, I miss you.

I wonder what you would be doing today if life had been different. Would you be a smart and sassy three-year-old giving your momma a hard time but just as loving as your twin brother? Would you have long hair that we would have a drawer full of bows for to match every outfit? Would you be talking up a storm, running around playing with dolls or would you play with cars like your brother?

Would you be head over heels for your little brothers and be mommy’s little helper? Would you want to cuddle them, hug them, love on them like they were your own? Would you grow up protective of them and their hearts like we would have been of yours?

Would you be a gymnast like your momma or play soccer like your Daddy? Would you love to read, to learn, to be social like me? Would you have my humor and your daddy’s loving heart?

Would you love all things girly and frilly or would you fight me on the many dresses I’m sure I would try to put you in? Maybe you would be my tomboy, my jeans girl, maybe you’d love a good pair of leggings like your momma.

I do know that you are still so loved, so precious to us and even death can’t take that away. You are our baby girl, our sweet gentle soul who has taught us so much and continue to daily.

Three years later and while I wish with every fiber of my being I had you here and that this nightmare was something I could wake up from and have you in my arms, I’m so thankful for you. I’m thankful for each moment I had with you. Each story I read to you, each time I got to hold you, to feel you against my chest, to tell you I loved you.

Three years later and not a moment goes by that I don’t think of you, see you in your brothers and Daddy, think about how different life should have been.

But sweet girl, you’re always with us aren’t you? You’re a part of our hearts, your name is spoken often. We pray for you nightly and thank God for you. You’re a ray of sunshine on the hard days. We think of you and while we may have tears in our eyes, we smile because you did exist. You lived. You are forever our child.

We love you so much my darling, and because of that, we grieve you. Yesterday, today, tomorrow, always until the day we see you again. People may find us confusing, they may not understand, but those people haven’t experienced child loss and we pray they never feel this heartache of not having their child here on earth with them.

As we approach the third anniversary of when we lost you, my love, I hope you’re proud of your mommy and daddy because we are doing our very best. We may not have grief figured out and we never will, but we try so hard to navigate this life without you and to honor your life through our actions.

So many families have been helped because of you, lives have been touched because you were here. People hold their children just a little tighter, appreciate them that much more because of your imprint on their hearts. You’ve made such an impact sweet girl, one that fills me with such pride and joy.

But please my love, please watch over your mommy and daddy as we miss you on these hard days. The day you took your last breath and as the holidays approach. Although we try so hard to be strong, we are so weak when it comes to you, our little girl, our precious Emma Rose.

Maybe in twenty years, we will have a better grasp on this. Maybe we will look back and be able to say that it is well with our souls. But not yet. Not today sweet girl. We aren’t there because you’re not here with us and it feels so foreign still, so wrong, so unnatural.

We will continue to look for you in the everyday moments, to find joy in our days because we know how fleeting they are. To live our lives to the fullest because you aren’t here to do the same. We will cherish your sibling’s day in and day out, and we will always, always remember you and will never stop loving you.

Each day is a day closer to having you in our arms forever. So, while we ache for you, we keep going because we know that we will hold you again. Oh, my love, I can’t wait for that day. I may never let you go again.

 

Image Courtesy of Blushing Rose Photography



  • 2 Comments

    • Danielle

      December 9, 2017 at 8:22 am

      I’m struggling with this as we are heading into our second year since losing our son stillborn. I feel like everyone assumes we have moved on. While the shattering sadness and grief aren’t like they were the months directly following our loss it’s still very much there. I don’t think as parents we can ever get over losing a child and all the things that could and should have been. Those thought will always be there.
      Thank you for writing this and expressing how you continue to mourn your sweet Emma Rose.

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      February 19, 2018 at 1:01 pm

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