July 13

One year ago we brought our daughter home in the smallest urn that Forest Lawn had to offer. She would've fit in an altoids tin, but I guess this will be harder to misplace. It wasn't in the catalog and I'm so glad she saw it in the listings and saw that price was lower than the big plastic one. A shoebox size chunk of plastic would've been pretty offensive.
No one will remember today. But I guess there's not a lot I can do about that.

One.

It's been one year since our daughter was born and died. (Not in that order.)
And you're not going to say a word about it.

Okay.
That sucks.

July 3

Cried alone in bed for 2 hours last night. No, I wasn't alone. Josh was there. Sleeping.

She's just a baby that was never born. Something that didn't happen. Maybe to a few people she's something that happened to us, a tragedy.
To me... She's my daughter. This is still happening. It will never stop happening. She's my daughter and she died. I will never be over this and it will never be over.