21 months

21 months since we last heard your little heart beat, 21 months since I felt you move inside me.   It feels like yesterday that we found out you were gone.  But at the same time, it seems like a different lifetime ago.

I feel like I am losing her.  The memories are fading in some ways.  Not too long ago, I looked at her picture atop my blog and saw a stranger.  Like that song that is always on the radio:  "now you're just somebody that I used to know."  Every time I hear it, I think of Adelyn. 

I realized that I don't really even know her, and I certainly don't know her the way I know my other two kids.  But then again, all there was to know about her, I knew and only me.  I knew how her kicks felt, how it felt when she pushed her head up against my ribs when she was breech.  I still recall one day lying on the couch watching TV, and she was kicking me like crazy.  I remember texting a friend and saying maybe she was going to be a soccer player, or better yet a dancer :)  She was SO active earlier on in the pregnancy, but not so much towards the end.  I wonder if I missed a sign that something wasn't right?  I will always wonder..... about that and so many things.  What would she have been like? 

I think it's pretty safe to say what she would have looked like though.  I don't think I ever posted these pictures on my blog, but here are Sierra and Coen, wearing the same outfit:

They are both 5 months old here.  So I'm guessing Adelyn would have looked similar.

21 months and I still struggle.  Probably no one can tell, except those who REALLY know me, or my few "Adelyn" friends who have always been open to me talking about her whenever I feel like it.  Anytime someone has a baby girl, it makes me miss her so much.  And today, the first baby girl in our extended family since Adelyn was born.  On the 29th of a month to boot.  It was hard, it made me sad.  And jealous....their baby girl lived.  I know they got just what they wanted, and sometimes that is hard for me to handle.  I didn't get what I wanted.  It's not fair!

I came so close to getting out her memory box today, just to look through it, to prove to myself that yes, she did exist, she was here.  But I couldn't bring myself to do it.  I was already feeling sad, and I know that would have made it worse.  Sometimes though I feel like I need to do it and let myself be sad and cry.  But, her memory box is still in Coen's closet (and he was napping) because I couldn't bear to move her from that room, that should have been hers.  I feel like it would be ok now, and I think I am ready to keep it next to me.  I have a bin under our bed that has everything I made or bought for her - Christmas ornaments, wreaths, candles, etc.  I think that would be a good place to keep her boxes too - but I may need another under-the-bed bin!

What I wouldn't give to hold her, touch her, smell her just one more time.  It's hard to undertand how you can miss someone you hardly knew, that you never really had - but I do.  I guess I miss all that she would have been.  As time goes on, I feel like the number of people that I can talk to about it and that understand, are dwindling, and that is why I am thankful to have this place, her place.

I love you, baby girl.