There are just a few weeks left until what SHOULD have been Hannah’s 5th birthday.
I’m still trying to sort out how I’m feeling about this. Obviously, that is why I continue to blog when I need to get something off of my mind. I’m waist-deep into planning for our big fundraising event on July 24th, which along with working full time, has been a great distraction from me focusing on it as much as I was last year when I wasn’t working and so new at this foundation stuff.
But as the days get closer, it seems to be getting harder. Maybe it is because the closer we get to the event, the more I share about Hannah with people who don’t know her – which is wonderful. But in the same respect, there is a part of me that still feels crushed because I would rather have her with me than just talk about her.
We chose the date because we wanted to do it to celebrate her birthday. (This year, it is the day before her birthday). It goes back to my fear of not wanting Hannah to be forgotten, I guess. She has been gone more than 18 months now and life continues. Our family has created so many new memories since she has passed away, memories that she is not a part of. And I feel guilty for that, and angry.
She is still in my mind hundreds of times a day, every…single…day. I still watch videos of her, look at my online photo albums, and have my little Hannah reminders in many different places in the house. I have a Mickie and Minnie snowglobe on my desk, a craft angel given to me by another rare mom who lost two young children, her 20 or so stuffed animals on a table in our living room, and so many more things. I am surrounded by members and things that remind me of her. Every time I go shopping, I find myself looking for things that remind me of her just so I can have that connection.
Moms are not supposed to lose their children. We aren’t supposed to watch them suffer while we are so damn helpless to do anything because medical research is just not there for us. We aren’t supposed to watch them pass away in our arms. We shouldn’t have to say goodbye forever before our babies even have a chance to live.
Hannah was 3 years old when she passed away. 3 years, 4 months old. Yet, what should be her 5th birthday is coming up in just a few weeks. So much time has passed it seems, yet I feel waves of grief just as strong (and stronger sometimes) than when I said goodbye to her that night.