In My Now

December 6, 2010 I left the hospital without my girl.  She had gone on ahead of me... in more ways than one.  

I've wanted to make a shadow box since that first December, but they were always out of my reach money wise.  In November this year, while I was at Michael's buying items for her care packages, I saw a 40% off sale and I sprung for it.

I set it up the day Matt & I got back from our weekend away, but there were a few missing things I wanted to add.  Her little cross necklace (she is wearing an identical one in her grave) and her hospital bracelet.  

I finally got them out of the basement today.

It was hard to decide what to put in since I have a few outfits I put on her that I like... and the one she is actually buried in that I would love to have out - but this little dress is the one that makes me smile most.  

I also wanted a safe place to display her hand and foot molds where I knew they'd be safe from my crazy boys and all the things they throw around.

I didn't plan it on purpose, but it so turns out that I just finished the shadow box - on December 6th - 4 years from the day I first left the hospital with only her things and a cut in my womb to show for the fact that I had just given birth to a beautiful baby girl.  (and of course, it *just happens* to be #4433 in my camera files)

I miss her so much.

I LOVE this shadow box.  I love that I can see her things any time I want without having to schedule time to cry.  I could never just peek in her box - it always required so much more of me.  Having her things on display on my wall will make it possible for me to reminisce easier...  

I look at these things and I smile.

I look at these things and I cry.

I look at these things and I try to remember what she felt like...what she looked like....

I wonder what her voice would sound like.  What she would like to play with and which sibling would be her rival... and which her best friend.

I wonder if she would be a cuddle bug or if she would be hard to pin down, like the boys.

I look and I wish I had more from her... and I'm thankful I have what I do...

I look at the stains all over the little lamb (that Rachel did *not* put there) and I wish she did.

I read the words "Little Sister" and I wish when I referenced 'sister' that the boys knew there was another option besides Desirae... but they don't really grasp that... and I can see why.  

She's not here.

Just her things are.

And they don't even smell like her anymore.  Everything tangible begins a far off dream of what was once here for but a short time - or what will one day be for all of eternity.

But neither bring her back to my now.  Not the past and not the future.  My now will always feel incomplete with this little girl missing from it.

And I will never grow comfortable with that reality.  I want her now.  Right now.  Just the same as I wanted her on December 6, 2010 as I left Maine Med without her.  Time does not heal all wounds.  Only Jesus can.

I'm okay with waiting, knowing he has clothed her with so much more than what I ever could.  I know she is safe.  I know she is cared for.  I know she will be there when I arrive.  I'm thankful to know that her 'now' is amazing.

But I just wish that somehow relieved the pain of my now.  My each and every day... every hour... every moment without her in my here and now.