Memories can sometimes be a burden

Everything reminds me of you. Our house. Our car. The park. The grocery store. Daddy’s work. Grandma’s house. Walmart. Denny’s. KFC. The hospital where you were born. The ER we had to take you to a few times. The clinic where your pediatrician works. Everything. Your clothes make me cry. The smell of your soap breaks my heart. Your things scatter the house still and they’re little reminders of everything that I’ve lost. All I can see when I go into your room is you lying in your crib the morning we found you. You had flipped around sideways and were lying on your belly. Your wubbanub was tucked under your arm. Your mouth was open and your eyes were closed because you were sleeping. Your little booty was poking up in the air a little bit. You looked so cute and sweet. But I can’t get the image out of my head. Because you weren’t just sleeping. You were dead. And that hurts me so bad. How can my baby be dead? That’s just not possible. And that image of you will never leave my head. It is going to haunt me forever.

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