My daughter, Neveya Ann was born November 7, 2017 and went to fly with the angels 4 days later, her life was far too short but her purpose was far bigger than we will ever know. She got a rare bacterial infection and unfortunately developed meningitis from it and God called her home. I think of her every moment of every day. Sometimes I feel alone, like I’m the only person to have ever gone through this or feel the pain that I feel in my heart, the ache in my arms to hold her, the ache in my body to smell her, kiss her chubby cheeks, touch her soft, dark beautiful hair. She is our world. She changed our life’s forever. She made us parents. Yesterday was one month that she has been with Jesus. As I laid in bed thinking of her, skimming through the only pictures and videos I have of her, the realization that my daughter is gone hits me like a brick wall. My daughter is GONE from this earth and all I have left is clothes that will never be worn by her, an empty car seat, an empty crib, tons of boxes of diapers and wipes unused and the list goes on. Instant tears. I decided to take a shower, so I brought my baby night light into the bathroom (the one I planned to use late at night to breastfeed my beautiful daughter while my husband slept for work) and I played “with hope-Steven Curtis Chapman”, “dancing in the sky-Dani and Lizzy”, and “held-Natalie Grant” and I hysterically cried as I just let the water run down. I miss her SO MUCH and in those moments I feel like the world is falling on top of me. Once I finally got myself somewhat together, I got out, dried off and got my pajamas on. I come back into the bedroom to find my husband awake, waiting for me. He had heard me crying and while I was in the shower he just waited quietly, letting me grieve and cry, but ready with open arms to take me in. I brushed my wet hair out and climbed into bed, and it hits me again. I start bawling, and then, I start crying even harder, my husband says he can hear the pain in my cry and that he’s never heard anything like it in his life until the day the doctors told us “I’m sorry, we did all we could, she’s gone.” I know it breaks his heart to hear me cry this way and I had been keeping it in to try and stay strong for him but tonight I just couldn’t. Sometimes it becomes so surreal that I had a baby, and now she’s not here, and I just can’t hold it in. My heart is shattered. So I’m crying, while holding tightly onto her hospital blanket and my husband wraps his arms around my body and starts praying out loud over me and he didn’t stop until the last tear fell. Then we just laid there in bed, talking about her, remembering her, looking at her sweet pictures, encouraging one another. Until finally, the Lord gave us peace and rest.

If you’ve read this far, I just want to say that I guess the whole point of this is that, YES I’m still grieving. I’m a grieving mother. I will never stop grieving until I see her sweet face again in heaven one day. Some days I’m fine, I walk through the store or mall or wherever and I’m fine. It doesn’t feel like I just lost a child, but I guess that’s Gods way of protecting our hearts? Then there’s days like last night, and I lose it and all of those raw emotions and feelings come back like I’m back in that room holding her lifeless body with tears falling from my face into her.

BUT,

There is hope, as small as it may feel right now, There is hope that one day I will see her again in heaven. The Lord knows how much I want to be a mommy, so much so, that he decided to let me be a mommy for an eternity. (God told me this a week ago in the car)

There is hope that my wonderful husband and I will have more blessings in the future, sent from there big sister up in heaven. There is hope that Gods purpose for all of this is FAR GREATER than any of us could ever fathom. There is hope. I put my faith and hope in him.

I will continue to stay strong for you, Neveya Ann. I may fall, I may cry, but then I promise to get back up, for you.