The end of summer

Generally speaking, I like summer.

I like the freedom, the nice weather. Something about summer feels so free compared to other seasons. The long days are something to be thankful for.

But this summer has been one of the best and worst of my life.
It's the first summer I was a mom.
It's the summer my daughter was diagnosed with SMA.
It's the summer my daughter was dying.
The summer she died.
The summer we had to lay her to rest and buy her headstone.

Truthfully, I haven't been able to enjoy much of this summer. Most of it was spent either caring full time for my daughter, making arrangements for her funeral, or dealing with intense and unrelenting grief.

I miss my sweet Millie. I miss her every moment of every day. There isn't anything I wouldn't give to have her back in my arms. Nothing about this situation is normal or OK. Parents are not supposed to bury their children. Somehow, I've lived through my three month old daughter's death, funeral, and burial. I have survived something I never wanted to. And it's an ongoing process. You can't ever really say that you're "done" with it. This type of grief is an lifelong process.

My daughter was the happiest person I have ever known. I know that SMA is a terrible disease, especially when the child is so very little, as Millie was. We did everything we could, absolutely everything, to prevent her from suffering more than she should. Even with the medications, she did suffer some, but I don't lose sleep over it. She didn't know life any other way, and we protected her from what we could. She passed away very peacefully. We made sure of it.

So, while it's sad to have to let go of summer, it's been full of heartbreak. I am not really sorry to see it end. I find the changes of the seasons oddly comforting at times.

All I know is that I will continue to miss her. I miss terribly. I long for the day that we can be with her again, but trusting in God to know what my time is. With the days I have left on this earth, I will strive to honor Millie and her memory. I hope to be able to use my experiences to help others.

Missing my smiley blue eyed baby girl.