A Sunny Day Without You

It's another sunny day without my River girl and I miss her more than I ever thought I could. It’s been over a week now and sometimes I still cannot believe she isn’t here with us. I find myself in quiet moments with my arms pulled to my chest, eyes closed, dreaming of what it would have been like to hold her, to kiss her, to smell her sweetly fragranced skin and to stroke her fine, dark hair. Every time I leave the house, I keep thinking, “She should be going with us.” The car seat is gone, taken out of the car more quickly than it was put in. No baby things to greet us when we came home. Just emptiness. And flowers. Flowers not for a “hello” but for a “goodbye.” I miss her.

For nine months I carried her with me everywhere and now, as I sit in the cool grass beneath the blue sky, I feel strange. My body isn’t sure what to do. I have no child to give my milk to or to spend sleepless night rocking, no child to dream for. Never did I think I would be planning her memorial service rather than making her birth announcements, or thinking about what I will do next May when she’s been gone for a year instead of planning her first birthday. It’s so painful to think about those things.

Each day brings a struggle for me. Not a struggle to believe in God and His goodness but a struggle to believe in myself—to believe I am worthy of this life, that I am worthy to be called a mother…to be called River’s mother. She was so perfect. Everything about her was perfect—her eyes, her nose, her ears, her hair, her hands and feet…and those lips. She looked like an angel, full of wisdom and peace.

 I know God is good, that He is near me, but I have no idea what He is doing in my life right now. I do not understand how I could be so close, to come this far to having a child only to have plans change. Her room was ready, filled with meaningful artwork and love. All of the time spent in that place, only to come home to it just the way it was before…without River. Now we are no longer waiting for her in this lifetime but the next. We are waiting for the day when we can see our daughter’s face shine with life for the first time. How l long to see her and to touch her, to hold her and look into her eyes.  I know I will meet her in Heaven but now it seems so far away.

As I look past my tears, I do see a glimmer of hope. River has already touched my heart and I know she has touched many more. She has inspired me to give my all. Before I was pregnant and even during my time with her, I didn’t really give 100%. I struggle with that guilt, wishing I could have done more for my daughter when I had the chance to but I know that ultimately, she was always God’s to begin with. Nothing I could do would ever compare to the heavenly riches our God could bestow upon her. I promised the Lord that I would dedicate her to Him all the days of her life…and I did. All 37 Weeks and 5 Days belonged to the Lord and I cherish them now more than ever. Each morning I wake up, amidst the sadness and reality that she is gone from this earth, I will choose to live for Christ. I will commit to being the best wife I can be and, for now, the best mother I can be to my only baby, River. I resolve to be pressed but not crushed, struck down but not destroyed.  I am determined to live with the life of Jesus Christ within me and I am determined to share His love with everyone. River’s life will not be wasted. Her life will forever be a living testimony to God’s love and goodness.