My sweet girl was born with wings, weighting 1lb 2oz and around 7 inches long. I was 22 weeks. The cutest button nose and looking just like her big sisters. She had Turner Syndrome, a genetic flaw that can effect the reproductive organs, heart and kidneys. She was so very beautiful, perfect, and tiny. I spent 6 hours after delivery with her, not nearly enough time.
All we have left of our sweet baby girl is what you see in the picture above, her angel gown the hospital gave us, a few small things from the memory box, her foot prints, ashes, baptism certificate and a weighted bear. It’s hung on the wall next to my bed.
She sleeps on a shelf next to our bed, instead of in my arms; my baby is on a shelf.
I know it sounds blunt, cold and distant. But it’s my reality.
The hardest part of loosing a child can not be narrowed down to one part, the hardest part of loosing a child is everything and every day. You wake up with a broken heart that will never heal, and then you go to sleep knowing a piece of you is missing. The rest in between waking and sleeping is spent being numb, exhausted and trying to do your best with out your child.
When you lose a partner your widowed, when you lose a parent your an orphan, but when you lose a child there is no name for you. The mourning never really stops, the grief never gets easier to handle and your heart, well it never really heals.
#PartyOfSix 