Six Months

I am usually able to hold myself together pretty well on a day-to-day basis. Some days, I probably even seem downright normal. Hell, some days I might even feel downright normal. But I can tell you, there is not a day that goes by where I don't spend hours and hours thinking about and missing my baby. Most of the time, I hold it in and disguise my grief. Other times, I have days like today where I allow it to come out to the surface.

Naya would have been six months old today. She would be sitting up by herself, eating solid food and possibly crawling. She would be laughing and babbling and probably drooling up a storm because of little teeth that were pushing their way through her gums. She would have been adorable. She would have been happy. We all would have been happy.

Instead, I spent her 6 month mark today looking at her picture of when she was a newborn. She will never change from this picture. She will eternally be a newborn baby to me and I will never get to see her grow and change and become the beautiful person that I know she would have if so many god damn things hadn't gone wrong.

Sometimes, it all just still seems so surreal. I look at her picture and I truly can't believe that she is dead. I mean, how could that beautiful little baby girl really not exist anymore. The really sad thing is that sometimes, I really can't believe she ever existed. I can't remember holding her and kissing her or reading her stories. I can't remember her cry. Oh, god I wish I could just remember what she sounded like. I kick myself everyday for not taking video of her during those 5 days we had her at home. I would give anything to just be able to see her again, moving around and gazing up at us. I wish I could see her eyes. I didn't realize at the time that those five days were the only time that I was ever going to have to make positive memories. Yes, I had 7 more weeks in the hospital but she was so sick and sedated, that those weren't really the memories I want to hold on to.

I wish I could smell her again. Before we got home from LA, friends and family came and cleaned our house and put all of her stuff (after washing it) in her room and shut the door. But they missed a onesie and a blanket of hers. This may sound pathetic but I have it sitting in a plastic bag in my dresser. I am afraid to open it because I don't want the scent to go away to quickly. I am literally rationing her smell.

I wish she could hear me when I tell her I love her. I wish I could tell her how much I miss her. I wish she was here.