I love these ladies so much. I've known each one of them since high school. It's amazing to have friends like this. In high school we were so silly and naive. We dealt with teenage angst and broken hearts. We all went on to different things after high school...some of us had a four year plan, some of us didn't, but we all danced to the beat of our own drum.
At one point we all lived in different states and didn't see each other very often. Almost 8 years ago we started our annual camping weekend. This one weekend a year has bonded us more than I ever could have imagined.
I adore these ladies.
I adore these ladies.
I love to laugh with these ladies and I know I can cry with them too. I needed this weekend so much. For a brief fleeting moment, I almost felt like the me I used to be. Almost.
But the truth is, even on this wonderful weekend laughing with my favorite Iowa girls and Ted getting another chance to know his cousins...all I can think about is how it should be.
As great as it was to have my parents watch Ted for the weekend, all I could think about was that I should be making this trip with Lily...a girls' weekend with my baby girl and Ted should be having a boys' weekend with his dad.
And the truth is, this isn't a thought that just pops up on the 12th of every month...it happens every single moment of every single day.
I think about how it should be all the time. It hasn't gotten any easier, in fact, it's harder than I ever imagined it would be. I miss her more today than I did four months ago.
I think about all the milestones that she's missed. When Ted was four months old, he was rolling over, sleeping through the night, and full of smiles and coos. And then I realize once again, I don't get any of these moments with Lily. I don't get to see her chest rise and fall as she peacefully slumbers in my arms. I don't get to cheer her on for those sweet moments of accomplishment and new discovery. Worst of all, I miss those smiles and coos I will never get to see.
I think about what Ted would be like with her. He's talking and babbling and such a toddler now. He squeezes and kisses his "Lily Bear". When I think about how it should be...how Ted should be giving kisses and squeezes to his sister and not a bear. How he should be fighting for my attention, not getting me all to himself. How I should have a million pictures of them together instead of a scattered few from the hospital and her funeral.
And the truth is, this isn't a thought that just pops up on the 12th of every month...it happens every single moment of every single day.
I think about how it should be all the time. It hasn't gotten any easier, in fact, it's harder than I ever imagined it would be. I miss her more today than I did four months ago.
I think about all the milestones that she's missed. When Ted was four months old, he was rolling over, sleeping through the night, and full of smiles and coos. And then I realize once again, I don't get any of these moments with Lily. I don't get to see her chest rise and fall as she peacefully slumbers in my arms. I don't get to cheer her on for those sweet moments of accomplishment and new discovery. Worst of all, I miss those smiles and coos I will never get to see.
I think about what Ted would be like with her. He's talking and babbling and such a toddler now. He squeezes and kisses his "Lily Bear". When I think about how it should be...how Ted should be giving kisses and squeezes to his sister and not a bear. How he should be fighting for my attention, not getting me all to himself. How I should have a million pictures of them together instead of a scattered few from the hospital and her funeral.
How she should be in my arms instead of being able to write this blog. She should be rolling over, laughing at her brother. She should be resting in her dad's arms right now.
How it should be...every minute of every day I think of how it should be...how she should be nestled in her mother's arms, instead of my arms aching without her.
How it should be...I shouldn't have to miss her at all.
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