I have healed an amazing amount since then, but this day still hits me like a bag of rocks to the face.
Most days it is not on the forefront of my mind. I of course think about Emma and Connor, but thoughts of them are in passing moments. The other day I went to hang clothes in Sam's closet and it hit me. Eight years ago I had baby clothes in that closet. I left them there for over a year in hopes of having someone to wear them. That closet haunted me for years. Then it became a bag of clothes. Which stayed with me for months.
Then I decided to let it go. Literally and figuratively. I donated everything. I emptied it.
Since that point Wy and Meech have both had clothes in that closet. They have both slept in that room. But, it was not until yesterday. Really looking and seeing Sam's clothes where the pain of loss once hung. This amazing feeling of triumph.
A feeling of complete blessings from above. Of pride that I survived. The realization of how far I have come since this awful day eight years ago.
We will never forget the moments of this day. We never want to forget, but are so thankful that the pain has lessened so much.
It is hard to imagine her as anything but a tiny baby, because she will always be or tiny baby. Each year that passes I think of who she would have been, what she would be like, but she is and will always be