• The second Halloween



    The girls missed you this Halloween, just like they did last year. They talk about you all the time – and they ask where you are. Especially Brooklyn. She was just 2 years old when  you passed away last year and she really, truly misses you. She rubs my belly and asks “is that baby Morgan?”. She is so young and doesn’t quite understand that you are not coming back – that she will not see you for (hopefully) a VERY long time.

    Halloween was low key. We didn’t want it to be much more than that. It was great to have grandma and the girls and just go trick or treating together. I still have your owl costume that I bought just before you left us. It is still hanging in our closet. Even now, as I purchase new baby items and hang them up next to your little blue dress and your Halloween costume. I see those little reminders of you and, somehow, they have become more comforting than painful. I’ve come to appreciate what I do have of you – while it still does hurt – but more of acceptance and how I can hold onto these “things” as part of the gift of you.

    The little sister you sent our way is getting bigger and bigger every day. She is already kicking me pretty hard, and throwing elbows to my bladder. I had to laugh that you chose a little girl. You knew that would be hard for me – at least that is what I think. I can only have visions of what I think I might feel like when your sister is born. I’ve had some pretty vivid dreams about that. About the birth and she is born and how I feel so much love, joy and heartbreak all at once. It is an overwhelming feeling – and it wakes me up every time in tears.

    So many days go by that I think of you now but without tears. I went from not being able to go a day without crying to going several days at a time without having to. I think I’ve learned to internalize my grief so much more in the past year. Don’t get me wrong, there are days (or moments) where I just break down uncontrollably and yell at God asking “why”. But there is a level of understanding now, if you can call it that. I understand now that I am a mother to an angel – who is no longer here on earth, but I am still your mother. You were here. You existed. You had an incredible presence and touched our lives in a way no one will ever understand.

    You are, and always will be, our sweet little Morgan Avery.

    I miss you like crazy <3


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