This year I finally have that “memory” thing showing up on my Facebook feed. And it kinda sucks…

I’m seeing reminders of all kinds of things – Samantha’s one-month picture popped up today. She wasn’t sick yet, or at least, not that we could tell.

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We had made this bunny at Build-a-Bear before she was born, and planned to take her developmental pictures each month with it. As it turns out, we only got to take them for four months…

She was so tiny. I’m still not comfortable with holding tiny babies. Newborns tug at the fragile threads that keep my heart in place, and I’m still worried it will burst open at any moment.

Even today, in a meeting talking about the local children’s hospital and ways to get involved, I felt that tug, and I was nearly ready to shatter. This year is hard, after a few years of doing okay, and I’m not sure why…

Maybe it’s because I’ve finally committed to putting this book together. Some of it is the fear rising up in new ways, keeping me from working on it. Some of it is the old emotions coming to the surface. For all I know, some of it could be hormonal… I’m approaching 40, so who knows what is going on inside of me?

Whatever it is, I know I’m not alone. I walk with an army of other moms, women who have walked a similar path and can guide me (or be guided by me). I have my husband who knows these feelings all too well. I have my sister who loved our little girl almost as much as we did. And I have a God who is intimately acquainted with the pain of watching His child die.

As we pass through another Holy Week, I remember my daughter’s life and legacy, grateful to know that she is safe and secure in heaven.

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