Not in a million years would I have believed you if you told me I would be writing this post. This photo sums it all up - it's the urn that holds Lily's ashes. I must look at it and talk to her at least ten times a day. We picked it out with our children, they liked the beautiful angel. I see more than just the angel, I see the four stars she is holding - each one represents one of my children. The last thing I do at the end of the day is run my finger over the four stars and tell her I love her.
My first Mother's Day without Lily was pure hell, we had just lost her a few weeks earlier. I was still in and out of the hospital - I was physically and emotionally checked out. I was barely hanging on, the emotions were raw and the emptiness was massive.
I unwrapped the pink blanket and placed her ashes on the table. Tears streamed down our faces as we gently etched a cross on her with Holy Water.
I "gathered" myself in the car before we saw family - and I wore my smile, the one that was expected of me as if I was coping. Lily was never mentioned. I know Mother's Day isn't only about Lily, but it certainly will never be the same. I'm not sure that outsiders realize how difficult Mother's Day is for anyone who has lost a baby or a child. It's isolating - I am beyond grateful for my healthy children but I am so torn with Lily in Heaven.
Mother's Day isn't just about Lily and I don't need anyone to remind me of that. I do celebrate the amazing children that I have here with me. As their Mother I need to continue to show them that through the darkness there is light. It's okay to cry - it's okay to miss her. It's not a weakness, it's being human. I am strong enough to show them that it still hurts - some days more than others but it always will. I have to know that Lily is in a place more beautiful than here. Not "a better" place - because there is no better place for her but here with us.