Thinking of you a lot

Last weekend I went to the hospital and relived those moments we first lost you. As daddy pulled the car around I waited at the bottom of the elevator watching as people came and went to and from the maternity floor proudly wearing their stickers. As one man came off the elevator he had a bounce in his step, a new dad bounce. I thought to myself. "This is one of the best days of his life. Your daddy didn't get to come off that elevator with a bounce. " Then I imagined what all those who loved us and wanted you to live must have looked like walking in and out of those doors. I saw myself coming through those doors with you and leaving without you. I despise that stupid blue awning, just because that is the landmark to the doorway of sorrow for all of us who love and miss you. I sat there for maybe 5 minutes and it felt like I relived those 11 days of being there, I bawled. I met eyes with people who were bustling in and out and just couldn't control myself, I couldn't hold the tears that I have for you. Those were some of the worst days of our lives. I felt the distance between us like you'd just been ripped away from me, it was so real in that chair just waiting for daddy. That's something that's pretty normal for me now, just crying in public. I can't reach the shut off switch.
There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of you, but lately reaching milestones with your little sister brings me right back to memories of you that cause me to linger a little longer. I think about what I was doing when I was pregnant with you, about your ultrasounds and the position of head up feet down with legs tightly closed you liked. August was my last month with you. With your first birthday approaching of course I think of how I will honor your memory. How I hope the people I love the most won't disappoint me and forget about us.
My heart has been heavy for all the wonderful mommies I've met who have babies you probably know and love. My heart is heavy for all our neighbors who just lost their homes due to the flooding, and the moms who fear losing their kids in this war and who have, for all the people unemployed right now, for the two people I know who've recently become paralyzed. You are in such a better place little girl, I know you suffer nothing and for that I am thankful. I just wish for me- for us you were here or I were there.