I didn’t cry yesterday. For the first time in two months I didn’t cry. I didn’t wake up with an empty feeling in the pit of my stomach and I didn’t go to sleep feeling like I had a gaping hole in my heart. I didn’t choke back tears or even have to turn my face away from someone so they couldn’t see me trying to swallow my grief. Yesterday I got a real glimpse at the person I used to be and she even stuck around today to do some push-ups and sit-ups for the first time. I’m remembering the person that smiled easily and found humor in every day life, and I want her to stay.

Feeling better  was a scary thought for me because I worried it would equate to forgetting my experience and forgetting Ava. I feared the day that I didn’t cry or feel physical pain because in some strange way my pain made her seem more real, more alive to me. I used to think that feeling better would mean that I don’t love my daughter or that I’ve “moved on,” but I still thought about her at least 100 times over the last two days, I just didn’t need to cry over her death. I haven’t needed that emotional release and I have this blog to thank for it. I have been reliving and writing about my experience and it has given me this amazing place to put all my grief and guilt and anger. I feel the weight slowly lifting from my shoulders. When I started writing I wasn’t sure this was a good idea. I wondered if this would cause me more emotional stress and trauma, if I’d be stuck dwelling on the past, but it has done the opposite for me. Brushing the experience under the rug and bottling up my emotions was suffocating me. I’ve been so worried about  other people that I have tried to avoid bringing her up in conversation because heaven forbid I cry and make someone uncomfortable. It was killing me to pretend this didn’t happen and she didn’t exist. I didn’t expect many people to read this blog and I certainly didn’t expect the outpouring of love and support I have gotten in the week since I started publishing. Writing has been so cathartic for me but to know how many people have read it and will know her, and are sharing my grief has further lightened my load.

We are often told that people never truly die because they live on in our memories and hearts once they leave this Earth. Ava never got a chance to make those memories and I have been afraid of moving forward for fear she would be forgotten. She wasn’t just a baby that died a few minutes after birth, she has a story to tell. It brings me comfort to tell her story, our story, and to bring her to life for all the world to see. Thank you for reading about us and taking her into your hearts. Thank you for keeping my Ava Scarlet alive for me.