“There’s a hole in my heart that’s the shape of you.
My firstborn.
My first answered prayer.
My first miracle.
My first daughter.
Just because you’re gone doesn’t mean our connection is.
Your heart was once beating inside of me and my blood flowed through your tiny veins.
You were literally a part of me and you always will be.
I often wonder how rich Zara’s life would be with you as her big sister.
I imagine you laughing and playing together, and sharing an unbreakable bond like I have with my big sister.
My heart aches at the thought of you, yet I can’t stop thinking about you.
This Mama’s soul still yearns for her baby girl. Kisses, cuddles and all.
Although I KNOW you’re in good hands, it still hurts.
What I would give just cradle your petite, warm body one more time.
If I had another minute with you in that room I’d tell the nurses, ‘Just a few more minutes, please.’
I’d kiss your rosy cheeks and button nose.
I’d stroke your silky hair and fiddle with your itty-bitty fingers and toes.
I’d whisper, ‘I love you’ in your ear a million times, as if you were listening.
I’d stare at your face so intensely that it would be etched into my mind forever.
The medication, pure exhaustion and trauma kept me from being fully present in those moments.
So now all I have are memories and vague ones at that.
A few pictures and a heart shaped urn with your ashes to hold on to.
And sometimes I think that if I close my eyes tight enough, maybe I’ll remember your face more clearly.
But then it hurts too bad that I shut off my mind to keep my heart from shattering into a million pieces all over again.
This is what child loss grief looks like. A pain that can be numbed but never goes away.
Oh, Eva. There’s a hole in my heart that’s the shape of you that no other child can ever fill, and no amount of time can ever heal.”
This story was submitted to Love What Matters by Ericka Watson. Submit your own story here, and be sure to subscribe to our free email newsletter for our best stories, and YouTube for our best videos.
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