Lily's month

As I said before, when we received Lily's diagnosis, I feared every day she would come early. I remember being so happy when we made it to October, we made it to her birth month...and then all of a sudden it was October 31st and she made it quite known she was not ready. I wasn't either, but honestly, I was never going to be ready.

And almost one year later...I'm still not ready for this. I'm still not ready to live the rest of this life without her.

We are painfully aware every single day of all the milestones we are missing. If you have kids, you know. If you've filled a baby book, you know how overstuffed it should be right now...overflowing with all of your child's firsts. Her first roll over, first scoot, first crawl. Her first foods, teeth, and car rides. Her first smile,  her first giggle and words...her first "mama" and "dada".

All of these firsts that we've missed are so painful and heart wrenching, but the one I'm really not ready for is coming up fast. In 11 days it will be Lily's first birthday and I'm really not ready for that. I feel the world nudging me, telling me "it's been a year, you should be better now." While it feels like eternity since she's been in my arms, the pain and raw emotions feel very fresh. This wound hasn't even began to scab over.

Somehow, by the grace of God, we made it back here. Back to her birth month, one year later. I know people will want it to get easier for us from here on out. After all, we've already had our first everythings without her. We've had a first Thanksgiving, Christmas, our birthdays, and trips to Iowa, but it doesn't feel that way. Not even a little bit. It all still feels like the first day she was missing from my arms. It feels like that every day.

This morning I woke up dreading this month. This month that I once loved because it almost finally feels like Fall. A month that reminds us of all that we have to be thankful for. A month that begins with recognizing all the wonderful saints of our Church. The month I finally held my daughter in my arms after waiting so long.

But it's also the month I had to hand her over to a stranger. The month where I watched my husband smile through tears as he held his little girl. The month where Ted peeked over to get his only glimpse of his sister in this life. The month where the casket closed much too quickly. A month where I pretend to be thankful for all these precious moments, but truthfully I'm screaming inside at how unfair it all really is. 

And for the rest of my life, a month where I will be decorating a grave instead of a cake. A month where I will be picking out flowers instead of a birthday dress. A month where I only get to remember the few firsts I got instead of watching new ones each year. A month where I will be celebrating my daughter's first birthday without her in my arms...and everyone after.

How is it possible to ever be ready for that?