What I wouldn’t give to have my little girl in my arms and snuggled up to my bosom right now.To have her feeding from my breast, being filled with the perfect meal that God and I have created just for her.
Shortly before she passed I pumped for her for the first and last time. In hopes that she would feed and allow the wholeness and restorative benefits of my milk give her strength to overcome. To give her those extra vitamins, minerals, and immunity to allow her to pull through.
A couple days after she passed my milk really came it. It was a very annoying reminder that she had died. That she was not here to enjoy me filling her tummy and putting her to sleep.
Soaking through bras and shirts if I forgot to ball up toilet paper and shove it in my shirt. I was constantly reminded to her absence.
Now I am on the other end of the spectrum. My milk production has drastically declined. Expected since there is no demand for it. This is also very hard for me. It is now a constant reminder that she is not here. That she is not in need of my body. She doesn’t need my milk. She doesn’t need me. And my body knows this.
But nearly 7 weeks since she passed and though others have, my body still has not forgotten that she was once here. She existed. She was formed in my womb and growing in my body, under my care, for 28 weeks and one day. I have always taken care of her, given her everything she needed to survive.
She never wanted for anything.
Even now, in death, I still give my all to her.