You would be three...

Dear Freja,

Since the beginning of March, I feel like I've been trying to dig my heels in and stop time from ticking on. I've been dreading having to face the days leading up to your birthday, and then your birthday, then all the days you lived three years ago, followed by the day you died in my arms, and your funeral day, then all the days I've had to live without you throughout the year.... It's all just too much and I go in this circle every year, year after year. Whoever said this gets easier certainly doesn't walk in my shoes. I miss you just as much as I did the day you died, and the weeks, months, and years following. I can't say that the pain has dulled very much, or that the memories have faded. I am thankful that my memories of you and your life are still as clear as they were three years ago, but it also means that the pain I experienced early on still feels so fresh too. I cling so tightly to the memories of you that I can't imagine they will ever fade. I can go back and revisit that precious time with you there in the hospital like it just happened yesterday... I can feel myself there with you rocking in that rocking chair and holding you as you sleep in my arms. I can still remember the smells, the sights, the sounds of all the alarms on the medical equipment.

Today is your birthday. You would be three. I absolutely cannot wrap my mind around the fact that you were born three years ago. Time has never flown so fast as it has in the last three years. I somehow thought just after you died that three years out would feel so much different than this. But I have to admit that I will take this pain for the rest of my life if it means that I can still feel so close to you.

When I woke up this morning, I laid there for a few minutes before opening my eyes. I contemplated just keeping them shut for the day... Possibly even the next three weeks... But I eventually gave in and opened one eye slowly, letting some of the bright sunlight in. It hurt so much to face this morning without you. It hurt so much to even think about having to get out of bed and face this day without you. This is your day, and I just couldn't imagine how I would pass time without you here on your special day.

Your daddy, sisters, little brother and I worked painstakingly on a beautiful birthday cake for you. I couldn't decide how I wanted to decorate it. It just had to be perfect, and I was so scared of making even a tiny little mistake. Your sister wanted to make you a princess cake, so we covered it in pink and purple fondant and placed her princess tiara on top. I know you would love it. I just cry when I look at your sister and think about how close you two would be. You would be three, and she is four. I took her shopping the other day and let her go crazy picking things out to decorate your grave with. I don't think I said no to anything she wanted to get. After supper, we will bring you all your little gifts. I'm sure that I will cry a bucket full of tears on top of your grave. I hope that a few will reach you my sweet baby girl.