One year,
one month, and sixteen days.
That is how
long it has been since I first and last felt my daughter grab my finger. So very long. So very very long without
her. Medically, Mira was so very
imperfect. She had abnormalities in her
kidneys, stomach, umbilical cord, heart, brain, lungs and more. She had no ears. Her eyes were not symmetrical. But oh, my, was my little girl perfect
anyway. She managed to react to sound
without her ears. She had the softest
skin I have ever felt. Her grip on my
finger felt so strong even though they said she was so weak. Her cheeks were round and chubby. Her clubbed feet were so adorable and
tiny. She filled those around her with
so much love.
One year,
one month, and sixteen days.
That is how
long I have missed my girl. That is how
long I have spent learning how to breathe without my perfectly loved baby. It’s a long to time to miss her, but it turns
out not long enough to learn to get by without her. I read all the infant loss books (I mean ALL
of them), I know they say it take much longer than a year to be able to say you
are healing. But, it sometimes feels so
damn overwhelming that over a year later, the pain still knocks me all the way
down some nights.
