6 months.

Six months ago today, Maggie Ann was born.

It's hard to believe that it has already been six months.
It sometimes doesn't even feel real.
Like all of this never really happened.

But then.
I see our guest room closet hanging full of baby clothes.
Unworn and covered in plastic.
And the door to the would-be nursery is now just constantly shut.
And all that I have to show for her life is a dresser drawer full of
sympathy cards
and
memory boxes
and
pictures of her
living
and
pictures of her
not living.

Life has gone back to, what I would call, normal.
But, don't get me wrong.
I still think of Maggie daily.
Hourly, probably.
I don't talk about her anymore.
I hardly ever mention her.
Or my pregnancy.
I don't want to be that person.  
The Debbie Downer.
But, just know
that just because I don't mention my daughter
my Maggie-
or her sweet toes
or her sweet lips
or her precious little belly-
doesn't mean
that I have moved on.
And I don't think about her.

Because I do.
More than anyone knows.

I think of her every time I see
a baby
or a pregnant woman
or a mother
or a carseat
or the baby aisle in a store.
And I think of her
when I'm driving
and reading
and teaching
and
breathing.

And all of you who told me that I'll never stop missing her?
And loving her?
And it doesn't ever really get easier?
And you just learn to live with it?
You were right.
I've never stopped.
I think I've just learned how to live with that
hole inside my heart.

6 months.
With my baby.
And without.

Happy 6 month birthday, Maggie.
I love you and
wish you were here with
your mommy and daddy.