Tonight will be the one year anniversary of losing our baby girl, Julia. I'm at work today, and haven't done a single thing in the two hours I've been here. All I want to do is think about her, but the tears always come.
The moment that keeps coming into my head is when she was slipping through our fingers and I whispered for her to just open her eyes one last time. I had to see those gorgeous eyes one more time. She did it. It was like she was telling us that it was okay. That she was okay. But it's NOT okay. I would give anything to have her here with us now.
What do people do to get through days like this? And when does it start to get easier?? I think about the girls (Grace died at three weeks old and Julia at nine weeks old... Charlie is a happy 14 month old now) and it only takes a second or two for the tears to come up behind my eyes. Some times the tears come out, sometimes they don't- it just depends on the kind of day I'm having.
I wrote Julia a letter (just like I did for Gracies anniversary a month and a half ago) and I think it helped a little. I thought it would also help to talk (or email) with people who can relate like you guys. No one has even acknowledged today and what it means to me, as I'm sure most people have forgotten that it's Julia's anniversary. I am consumed by thoughts of one year ago today. I held her all day. I feel like the whole world should remember!

Today is my 3rd day back to work after losing our triplets 7 weeks and 6 days ago @ 22weeks due to preterm labor. I know how you feel about being at work! I read tear-jerking poems or verses online and fill tissue after tissue! Sometimes you just need to cry, and there is nothing wrong with that. I just don't understand how everyone around us can work like nothing has happened!!

I am so very sorry for your losses. I, too, wonder when it will get easier, but I look forward to when the good days outnumber the bad, and that's all I can do. For me anyway, talking out loud to someone about Avery, Oliver, and Thomas is so therapeutic. Some people avoid discussions about our precious angels, and I only wish they knew how much it means to me to be able to talk about them. I want everyone I know to share in their legacy. And I wish that today, I could steal you away from work for just a few hours so YOU could tell me all about Julia (and Grace too!) and how beautiful they are.

We have gone to an infant loss support group, and this is the poem we read aloud at the end of the session:

At the rising sun and at its going down we remember them.
At the blowing of the wind and in the chill of winter we remember them.
At the opening of the buds and in the rebirth of spring we remember them.
At the blueness of the skies and in the warmth of summer we remember them.
At the rustling of the leaves and in the beauty of the autumn we remember them.
At the beginning of the year and when it ends we remember them.
As long as we live, they too will live, for they are now a part of us. As we remember them.
When we are weary and in need of strength we remember them.
When we are lost and sick at heart we remember them.
When we have decisions that are difficult to make we remember them.
When we have joy we crave to share we remember them.
When we have achievements that are based on theirs we remember them.
For as long as we live, they too will live,
For they are now a part of us, as we remember them.

God Bless you, and take comfort in Him.