It has been three weeks since I watched my baby take her last breath. During those last few moments I remember silently willing her to continue breathing. I would gladly have given every last breath in my body just to know that she would have had a chance. But that wasn't to be. Instead I am left here, left to mourn and to continue on even when I don't want to or feel like it.
Grieving is a brutal process. It knocks you down into pits of darkness only to let you grasp your way back up to the top and find that you are still surrounded by darkness. Occasionally, you catch a glimpse of light but it never seems to last for very long and it's never very bright. It is enough however to sometimes offer hope. Even the tiniest bit of hope can keep someone going. As you stumble through this journey called grief you find yourself thrown back into that pit over and over only to begin climbling again.
The light comes in many forms, sometimes a silly story from a two year old or the laughter of a 5 year old. Other times it is a message from a friend or that silly robin that loves to wake me up in the morning. Most often however, it is the memory of a baby fighting until the end. That memory forces me up and out of that hole, because if I can't continue fighting then I have failed her. Failing Georgia would leave me without hope and so I continue on.
Please keep forwarding the petition on. Failing Georgia is not an option.
Love to you all,
8 Years an Angel
2 weeks ago