6 years ago right now, I was in labor. I remember every otherwise mundane moment of that day.
We watched a reality show on the WE network about a wedding. It was awful. My dad brought back Red Robin for everybody there (aside from me, I wasn't allowed to eat). I wore pink slip on tennis shoes, a gray tank top, and black zip up shirt/pants to arrive. When I told the receptionist I was there for an induction, she looked at me with a most confused expression and said "YOU are being induced?". And then she looked at her records...
So many little details that I remember so vividly and I'm not sure I ever recorded. For some reason, this year it feels important to write it all down. 6 years is a long time.
Usually, the days and weeks leading up to the actual anniversaries (of death and birth) are harder than the actual day. Usually, the actual day is a bit of a relief. Not this year.
This year, the sky opened up with rain, the sun hasn't peeked out all day and I feel so tired. I wanted badly to go to sleep last night and wake up tomorrow.
As we left school from walking my oldest son in, a very excited little girl and her mother were hurrying into school. They were carrying cupcakes with the number 6 on them.
We got lovely flowers from my mom and dad, to be planted in a garden just for Keely once our home construction is completed in a couple of months. I so wish she were here to smell them and feel like a big girl for receiving flowers.
But her reward is much greater than pride and more fragrant than azaleas.
Missing my little girl so much today. Every day, but especially on this day, the 6th anniversary of the first and last day I held her earthly body, saw those toes cross like my own, held her tiny hand. 6 years too long.