8 Golden Days

I was blessed to have my Emme for as long as I did, eight days outside the womb. Although those eight days held the deadliest storm I have ever wavered, they also allowed me to experience love like never before. They allowed my daughter to touch hearts and bring the Healer to many homes, including my own.

The past eight days have been a whirlwind of emotions. I remember everything like it happened yesterday. I remember sitting in my mothers living room, clutching Nathan so tight, while I sobbed. I remember feeling the heaviness in my heart. The physical ache in my chest that weighed tons. I remember living in the NICU and wanting nothing more than to wake up from my nightmare. I remember the awful feeling of trying to feel and ingrain every second of the days into my memory. I remember believing that I would have Emme longer. I remember her beautiful cry for me and the touch of her skin against mine as she nursed. The sound she made when she swallowed my milk. How her little body felt against mine, as she slept all night snuggled on my chest.

Natey loving on Emme

 I remember how awful it felt when I began to realize that that Sunday would be my last Sunday with her. I remember calling her name after each breathe she took, wanting her to hold on just a little longer. I remember hating the blue marks that the morphine was leaving on her lips, as we tried to soothe her. I remember feeling like I was outside my body and this was not happening to me. I remember holding her tightly for hours after she was gone. I remember changing her one last time with my mothers help, getting her ready to go into the white wicker basket they took her in. I remember running my fingers through every part of her body, trying to memorize everything about it. Her little nose, her lips, her straight silky black hair, her little round tummy, her perfect little toes.

I remember not understanding how completely broken I felt but how everything outside the window continued to look so perfect. The trees, the flowers, the green grass, the neighbors walking their dogs, all while a van sat in my drive way waiting for me to give them my little girl. Even as I write this, my body aches from the heaviness of it all.

This year has definitely been a journey. A journey where everything I knew and believed in was called to question and rebuilding from ashes was all there was left. I am glad that I have come to a period in my journey where I can focus on the positive things that came out from this tragedy. I can appreciate things that I missed in the darkness. I can find joy in these eight days, in the midst of the darkness.

Elea Mackenzie

As the eighth day comes to an end tonight, and I sit here covered in tears and snot, I know that my Father sits next to me, holding me, mourning with me, healing my heart one day at a time.