1 year 6 months

Today is the 1 year and 6 month anniversary of Ansley's death or "Angel Date" as most bereaved parents like to refer to this extremely devastating date. 1 year and 6 months, for some who read this or who know me this will seem like a long time. I tell you it is and it is not. It feels like yesterday I entered into this hell I am forced to now call life (it does not actually resemble living compared to my previous life that included my Ansley). It feels like yesterday that my daughter ran around my house demanding I chase her saying "This way, this way mommy" and it seems like yesterday where that beautiful happy life was ripped away from me when I walked casually into her room at 8:15 am in the morning to wake that sleepy little girl up (she normally got up at 6:00-6:30) and found her dead. Not blue, not unconscious- but dead. That is what I screamed hysterically and that is what I told the 911 operator. As Shane was working vigorously to revive her I told the operator "She is dead! She is dead, send someone to save her!" As I type this my heart is RIPPING open as it does constantly. A wound that never heals. 1 year and 6 months when I focus on that amount of time my brain literally can not compute. It says impossible! She was 2 years 2 months and 25 days old. That is more than 1/2 the time you were blessed to be her mommy here on earth. Impossible that you have been in this much pain for so long. IMPOSSIBLE that you have not held her, changed her diaper, fed, her, made her snack, bathed her, dressed her, took her to the park, took her to Little Gym, played in her Dora kitchen, played dress up, played, played, played, watched Blues Clues Dora and Little Einsteins lived your life, was happy, was whole. I pray nightly that I see her in my dreams, I think she only comes and visits me on days where I feel like I can not go on. The last time she came was on New Years Day. She appeared and I looked at her and said "Come on big girl" hopefully wanting her to choose to come withe me and her daddy. She put her finger up to her chin as she often did to ponder my request. She did not choose to stay-I woke up. I would do anything to have her back no matter how brief the time. I would trade my life in a heartbeat for her to come and be with her daddy and have all of the experiences she should have had on this Earth. It would be easier for both he and I that way. As much as I ache he equally does. 

I was watching Oprah today that I Tivoed and there was a mother who had lost her son and his twin brother was on. The brother said that the best way he could explain the loss is looking at a picture on the wall of what your life is supposed to be. What you think it will be. Then, that pictures crashes to the ground shattering into a million pieces and you have no idea how to put it together again and it is too painful to even think about. So, you just look at the picture of your shattered life laying on the ground. He then said after a long time and after something gives you purpose again you try to start carefully putting that picture back together again and as you do you realize it is a different picture. A picture of the different life you will live from then on and the pain of loosing the other picture is always there when you look at the new picture hanging on the wall. But, there is a new picture where the old once was.

I stop where the shattered picture is laying on the ground. I DO NOT WANT A NEW PICTURE! I WANT MY OLD ONE BACK!

Mommy loves you Ansley.