Happy six-month birthday, Monkey. It’s hard to believe half a year has gone by since you were born. It feels like yesterday, which is strange to me because after you died, six months seemed like a lifetime away.
I feel like I’ve been going through the motions for most of this time. Sometimes I feel like I’m watching my life happen from the outside. It all seems so surreal that it’s difficult to grasp that this is really my life. You are such an important part of my life that I have trouble understanding that you’ve been gone longer than you were alive – from the time you were conceived until the moment you slipped away. Then again, you’re still in my heart, so you’re not really gone.
This summer is not at all what Daddy and I had planned. It is certainly not as happy as we expected, and that’s because you’re not here. I kind of picture our lives like a board game. We were moving along, and somehow, our game pieces got knocked backed several spaces. Those were the most important spaces of all. We’re trying so hard to move forward again, but our pieces are broken and it feels like everything has been left up to chance.
I’m a self-admitted control freak, and nothing about your short life was in my control. I had never felt so helpless as I did watching you as you fought to grow and get healthy. I wanted to reach into your isolette and make everything okay, but I was completely powerless. The only thing Daddy and I could do was let you know we were there and love you as much as possible. That’s pretty much all we can do now, too. I don’t think there’s a minute that goes by that you’re not on my mind, and my heart is so full of love for you that it’s amazing that there’s room for anything else. We’re still trying to keep our promises to you to try to be happy again. I think it’s safe to say we’re both happy, but there will always be something missing: you.
We miss you and love you so much, Jilly. You are the best thing that has ever happened to us, and we’re still the luckiest parents in the world.