Day 4: Treasured Item Day 5: Memorial

One of my most treasured items through loss, aside from time, was a sleeper that Ainslee last slept in. When she passed away, I had this sleeper which was unwashed. It still had her spit up on it, her smell. The smell of my breast milk made especially for her. It was a simple brown fleece sleeper with little flowers on it. When she passed away, I clung to that sleeper. It had her smell on it and I could pretend she was still her. I started sleeping with it the day she passed away and slept with it every day. I would make sure not to roll over on it at night. If it accidentally fell on the floor at night, I would cry and feel like I dropped her. When I'd make my bed, I'd put it laid out on my pillow so I could grab it anytime I needed to. When I was preparing for Hadlee's arrival, I knew I couldn't be sleeping with her sleeper anymore. Mentally, it was difficult with the sleeper because a part of me felt like it was really her. A few weeks before Hadlee's arrival I started to move it onto a chair in our room and then the week before, I put it in Ainslee's trunk at the foot of our bed. Up and away. I had to wean myself from the sleeper and to be honest, I sometimes still want it out. But, for now, it's best put up. Day 5...Memorial. I was just flipping through the pictures from the day of her funeral. I'm glad to have them to reflect back on what was going on that day because it's hard to remember. But, I also hate looking at my daughter in the tiniest casket I've ever seen. They shouldn't make caskets that small. I don't want to share the pictures of her in her casket because they are very private, but I will share her grave site when she was just buried and the way my sister in law and I decorated it for Ainslee. I'm having a rough night tonight. I could tell a change in my mood upon gathering things for our walk to remember tomorrow. Hadlee woke up and I ran into the room to rock her. I held her and cried, imagining having a 2 year old needing me to put her to bed as well. I can imagine what she'd look like. Dark brown hair, wispy to her shoulders, beautiful brown eyes staring at me, and arms wrapped around me ready for books and bedtime prayers. Oh how I hate the grief. I miss Ainslee terribly.