Man, I’m dreading Saturday. I wish time could somehow just pause or skip over this one day so that I don’t have to do this. I don’t want to celebrate my baby’s birthday without her. I don’t want to blow out her candle for her. I don’t want to open up birthday cards for her. I don’t want to answer the door to trick-or-treaters in tears because it’s also Maya’s birthday and she’s not here for it. And I especially don’t want to sing happy birthday to a picture. This isn’t fair. Why did this have to happen to me? To my family? Why can’t we rewind six months and wake up to Maya crying for mommy and go on with our lives the way they were supposed to be? I should be getting things ready for her birthday party, not sitting alone crying and unable to sleep for the third time this week. I had this long list of toys that I wanted to buy for her and all these plans about what we were going to do. And an even longer list of people who I wanted to invite to her party. I even had her Halloween costume planned. And now what do I have? A long list of people who no longer talk to me and a hole that will never be filled. I can’t even count how many friends I’ve lost since Maya died. I finally have a friend and it’s my neighbor. Don’t get me wrong, she’s amazing and I’m so grateful that I have her. But I’m tired of being avoided because I’m “the girl whose baby died.” I don’t want to be marked for my entire life. I don’t want to have to keep telling new people that I meet that, yes, I do have a daughter, but no, she’s not here because she’s dead. I want to be up at night because Maya needs me, not because I don’t have her. I want to wake up early and play with her and watch her run across the yard. Make food together and cuddle for nap time. Maybe go on a walk to see Daddy at work. But now none of those things will happen. My Maya’s gone. I don’t want to do any of this.