As I went to bed tonight, memories of Amelia's funeral came flooding in. I am still trying to understand how we had to bury our little girl just seven days after she was born. Instead of a lifetime together, we got a lifetime apart. It hurts me how quickly her life ended, how cruel was this dream.
It often feels like a dream, a really scary, surreal dream. But on nights like this they become all too real. I'd say it hurts more now than it did before, because now I understand how "forever" it is. Nothing else is more permanent than death.
The flashbacks that I get are moments in time that my brain simply couldn't handle six months ago. These memories are safely stored in my head and usually come back around the same dates as the events. Like the feeling of leaving the hospital without my baby; the week leading up to her funeral, all the arrangements we had to make instead of staying in bed with our newborn; the day we laid her to rest.
For her, it was the end of her time here on Earth with us. For us, it was the beginning of our lives without her.
I would like to share some pictures with you, although they are not easy to look at. If you are wondering, it really does help me to go through these, look at them, see them, have them. This is just another angle of the same memories my brain throws at me at all times of day and night. This is also a memory of our physical time here with Amelia.