The 26-28th of every month are hard for me. This month is especially hard. Yesterday marked six months since Callie’s due date and our trip to the hospital in the back of an ambulance…hearing her heart struggle to beat on the monitor. Six months ago today, Callie was born. She uttered one teeny cry and her heart stopped. For fifteen minutes, the doctors worked to resuscitate her while John and I looked on in shock and horror. We prayed, prayed so hard.
And tomorrow, six months ago tomorrow, our precious baby girl left our arms for God’s.
Sometimes I wonder if she was real…did that really happen? I’m wearing the same size I wore before I got pregnant. All of the pretty pink things have been packed away. The only proof left that Callie was here is my smiley shaped scar, a lock of her hair, the pictures we took to remember her and cherish her short life, and the huge hole in my heart.
But she is here. I see her soul everywhere lately. In the waves of the ocean. In the little yellow butterflies that I have encountered for days now. In the hot, shining sunsets that paint the sky.
She is with us. But I miss her something fierce.