One Year Later

One year...
How is that possible? It feels like only yesterday I was sitting in that hospital room, receiving the news that I thought would end my world. That my Mia was gone.
I was broken. Something inside of me snapped.
For months I crumbled, continuing my darkest decent.
It was in December when I decided I didn't want to live anymore.
It was in February when the strings inside of me broke and I was sitting in a pew at my church and sobbing.
Ever since that day in February, things began to change.
And now I'm here, a year later, something I didn't even imagine possible at month one, or six months.
And I'm doing ok.
Of course I think about how things could have been different, but I have days now when I can think clearly and realize that it was never not going to be like this.
The journey of losing Mia has made me a different person than I would have been if she was here. Maybe I would have liked that person better, but I'm not here.
Instead of changing diapers, I'm going back to school.
Instead of scheduling birthday parties and play dates, I'm scheduling counseling appointments and trips to the grocery store, where I buy enough food to feed only one.
Mia's death broke me, but her life saved me. Because of her short, beautiful existence, I am a different woman than I would have been otherwise.
 I'm stronger, and gentler. The impact of her short life is making ripples, spreading out.
She makes me beautiful. She makes me strong. She makes me a mother.
And yes, even though the pain of losing her has been unspeakably awful, and while I would have given anything for it not to have happened, her short life forever changed mine, and I am grateful. I wouldn't change a thing.
So here I am, one year later, blessed.

I love you, baby girl. The light of your life will not go out, and your life forever changed mine.