Dig the grave

Wow. Tonight was rough. 

Let’s start by me telling you a little story.

When I went to the medium she told told me, when you see a feather, loved ones are near. I see feathers ALL the time now. Like all the time. In the most random places to. 

Sometimes I think I see them to remind myself, “to take a step back. Take a breath. Everything’s gonna be alright.” I’m a survivor. I fought the hardest damn battle I could and survived. Tonight, I don’t feel so tough. 

I got thinking so hard about Holland tonight I just burst to tears. I have such an urge to dig her right up. Take her home with me and love her forever and ever. (Okay, that might be a little morbid. But I just NEED my baby.) 

I just cried. 

And cried.

And cried.

I got out her diaper bag. 

I did it. I really did it. I got it out.

When I went to the medium she kept bringing up, “you did hand prints, and foot prints of her?” “No. I just did molds of her hands.” She brought it up every time I’ve seen her. Guess what I found tonight? 

Her hand prints. Just like she showed the medium. I literally had NO CLUE these were in her bag. None. Even though she told me every single time. I guess I was in so much shock half my life is a blur. 

As I’m going through her bag tonight tears just kept flowing. No control. All these tiny details. All the memories. All the cuteness. Everything. It killed me. 

The stuff we used to bathe her the night she passed. Her soap. Her scrubby. Her wipes I used to wipe her bum. The tiny, tiny, diapers we used that were still just to big for her tiny, tiny bum. The bows we picked out. I took it all.one of the outfits I chose. The beanie she wore most the time. The tiny little booties all the people made for her. Just for her. The tape measure they used on her. I took it. That cute purple blanket with the white edging that her sweet, sweet nurse made & gave to her. She was wrapped in it every single day. It’s now next to my night stand. So that every night I know she’s near. Her name tags for her bed. The binky that was way to big for her tiny mouth. Her oxygen cuff. Yes, I took that too. 
The tiniest details that I will forever cherish. We take so many things for granted sometimes we forget about all the little things that mean the very most to us. 

I added more details to her shadow box. (Man, I really need a bigger one.)
Her diaper bag will stay packed. Her keep sake box with all the memories of her will stay full. Her flowers will forever bloom. 

Most of my nights are spent talking to her. Telling her stories, asking her questions, and singing her songs. (Yes, I’m the crazy person that sings to ghosts.) 

She knows I love her. She has to know. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt any less. 

We get so used to the pain that we don’t even realize we’re hurting anymore. Time doesn’t heal wounds. Memories do. 

The only thing that helps me is thinking of all the sweet memories I had with her. Even in my belly. All the videos I have of her kicking me. All the belly pictures I took with her. Those are what make my days a little brighter. 

This world is so disgusting. I’m so glad she doesn’t have to live in it. 

It’s nearly been 8 months. HOW is this even possible? Literally, how? 8 freaking months. In 4 months it’ll be a year. A whole flipping year without my baby. Without my sweet, sweet, Holland Rhaye. This is not real life. 

Sometimes I feel so guilty because I feel like it didn’t even happen. Did I really give birth to another baby? Am I really a mom to two girls? It doesn’t even seem real. I suppose just because she isn’t here that’s why it seems so crazy. 

There as not been one single day that I have not thought about Holland. Not one. Every day I wonder what it would be like with two kids. Sometimes I want to rip my hair out so I can’t even imagine doubling that. I’d probably be bald. Honestly. 

Hold your babies close. Love them just a little bit longer. Even when you want to hide in the closet and eat chocolate. Just love them. When they’re screaming and throwing a fit. Just love them. I’d give anything for Holland to be screaming right now, throwing a fit, driving me crazy. Because at least she’d be here. 
Thank you for letting me share all these memories with you. Thank you for the support. 


Tasia; mrsmommaduncan 

“A feather from an angel is one we rarely see. But this one is quite different and is special as can be. This feather is a reminder of a special persons love. Who is now your guardian angel, watching and protecting from above.” 

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