Right Where I Am: 2 years, 3 months, 27 days

It has been 2 years, 3 months, and 27 days since February 10, 2009. Such a short time, yet such a very, very long time.

When I think about where I am in my grief, this quote stands out to me:
"Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle
Everything I do is stitched with its color."
~W.S. Merwin

Today, I am still missing Sydney. I will always miss her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her every moment. She is a part of my life every moment of everyday. She has taught me to be a better mother and wife, to be more compassionate, and to appreciate the little things more.

There are so many times when it still hits me like a ton of bricks. She's gone. Dead. Forever. I won't see her sweet little face, kiss her cheeks, or smell her skin this side of Heaven. I never got to see her open her eyes. The weight of my grief can still bring me to my knees. The physical pain of Sydney's absence isn't as strong anymore, since her sister is here and fills my arms. There are still moments that I crave her and would give anything just to see her.

She would be 2 years, 3 months, and 27 days old. I'm a mother to older children, so I know what she would be doing right now. Toddling around and getting into everything. I wish I knew what she looked like right now. A few days ago, I was going through her pictures and noticed that Kelsey resembles Sydney a lot. I wish I knew what color her eyes would've been and if her hair would've been straight or curly. I saw a picture in a book that made me think of her. I think it is similar to what she would've looked like as a young child.

My sweet Kelsey has eased my grief in many ways. She's an amazing baby. She can never replace Sydney--nor would I want her to--but her birth gave me hope and a certain healing that I couldn't have achieved otherwise. I've said it before, I truly believe that my girls' lives are completely intertwined. I know that Sydney comes to play with Kelsey. When Kelsey was in the NICU, I felt Sydney's presence so strongly when I was at the hospital.

Two years, three months, and 27 days ago, I didn't think I could live through the pain of losing Sydney. It was debilitating. Every moment of the day, my heart cried out for her. I don't think it gets better. I think you just learn to cope with it. You learn how to live with a broken heart. And for me, I've made it a large part of my life to honor her life. I want people to remember that she LIVED. She made an impact on this world. Her life was so much greater than the 2 hours her heart beat on Earth. I can look back now and see the blessings that we were given with Sydney. I am so lucky that I had 2 amazing precious hours with Sydney. She knew only love for her entire life. At 20 weeks, they told us she most likely wouldn't live through labor and delivery. And if she did, we'd only have a few minutes before she passed away. We got TWO HOURS. I wish it had been so many more, but if she had to die, I have no regrets about how she did. She knew she was loved. She knew our touch, our voices, and the warmth of my chest. After having a preemie before, I knew the importance of skin to skin contact and that's where she stayed--on my bare chest, hearing my heartbeat just as she had for the 20 weeks she was inside of me.

I can talk about Sydney now without crying. Not all the time, but most of the time. I want to help others. I want her life to continue to have meaning and impact others. I want her to continue to live on--through her brother and sisters, through her daddy, and through me.