My Heart

A piece of my heart is buried underground about 20 minutes from here.

And all I can think about is how cold it's going to get tonight.  And how she is all alone there.

Her sweet aunties picked out a warm blanket and sewed it to be just her size.  They gave the funeral home specific instructions on how to wrap her up in the blanket - just so I wouldn't worry about her being cold.

I know that she is not really there.  I know she's safe.  She's whole.  She's not struggling to breathe anymore.  Levi's sweetest words today - 'Jesus is keeping her safe.'

Even though I know these things, it's taking every rational part of my being to fight the 'mommy' urge in me to just get in the car and go to be with her.

And today, when she would have been 5 days old, my body physically longs for her.  Aches for her.  And there is no relief from it until I return to my pre-pregnant, pre-baby state.

When I close my eyes, I can still feel the weight of her laying on my chest.

I can feel the softness of her hair under my fingers.

And I can hear her trying to breathe.

Her blanket still smells like her.

I miss her so much.  And I wonder if my heart will ever feel whole again.