Today D turned 3. We had her first ever birthday party with friends and although it was smaller than we planned, it was just right and she had a blast. We worked our butts off getting ready and finishing one of her gifts, but working myself to exhaustion helped me to not think about who wasn't going to be at the party. (Or any other parties for that matter.)
Here is D with her most requested and now most beloved birthday gift, a "Squishy Whyatt". (from her current favourite show). Looking at this picture just makes think if she could love a toy that much and hug it so tight, how much love would she have for her little brother if he was here?
Today my wonderful, amazing, and most importantly, living and breathing daughter turned three. But as soon as she went to bed, I was consumed with the thoughts of my not living and not breathing son, who should have been 4 months old tomorrow. It should be Reid that Delia's is hugging so tightly at her birthday party. How shitty is is that I have to be thankful for the fact that Reid was not born on April 2nd so that at least his death didn't completely overshadow his sister's birthday for me?