Easter ruffles scrunch beneath her car seat straps.
As I click her last buckle the silver tear drop at my neck dangles near pink painted fingers.
-What is this for Mommy?
-This is for Hadley honey, to remember her by.
-You’re wearing it to Nana’s house, Mommy? For Easter?
-Yep, I’m wearing it for Easter.
-Can we take Hadley with us Mommy?
-I wish we could, we will take her in our hearts, okay?
I brush hair back from her face, careful not to look up at her again as my tears well.
-But can we just pick her up, she’s waiting at the baby hospital.
And I can’t answer anymore.
I feel unprepared and overemotional and helpless.
Climbing into the drivers seat I fight the urge to head back into the house and begin my search for books on children and grief.
This is the part I had dreaded.
My daughter, wishing for a sister she will never have.
The grief of losing my daughter is never going to end.
Sadness will come in waves and sometimes, it may take my children away from shore too.
But it will always bring them back
because they can’t go far if I am holding their hands.
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