Life isn’t promised to any of us, Mila Rose is all the proof I needed for that. The loss of her life showed me so much about myself.
So much has changed since the last time I wrote. Life gets busy and reminding yourself to slow down in all the chaos is so important. Today, two years after the first time Mila showed symptoms of being sick, I’m slowing down to let that sink in for a bit.
Losing a child so early in life has shown me a lot about myself and how I handle grief, conflict, and the things that are generally out of my control. Having literally signed and filed my divorce papers this morning, I can tell you first hand that no two people handle loss in the same way. It wrecks havoc on your emotions, and sometimes that comes seeping out into other aspects of your life and your relationships. It changes you in some ways and destroys parts of you in others. What you choose to do from that point on is what begins to shape the life you’ve been given. It isn’t always pretty and it isn’t what you thought your life would be, but it does get better day by day.
I cannot say where I would be right now if Mila hadn’t gotten sick. We could play the “what if” game endlessly, but it doesn’t change the reality. I won’t say that things happen for a reason in regards to her, it makes me cringe to hear it. I will say that God has a plan, and that where we are today is exactly where we are meant to be. No matter how much it hurts that where she is meant to be is not here with me.
Mila’s life, though it was short, touched so many people. I remember running errands with her dressed head to toe as Elsa and never meeting a stranger. She could make anyone smile, and her little laugh could brighten up a room. The videos i have of her on my phone are some of my most prized possessions, you never realize how much they mean until that’s the only way to hear someone’s voice.
Still to this day I can picture her in front of our tv at the old house dressed as Moana, shaking her booty to the movie singing “make way, make way”. I can see her in her new roller skates scrambling for balance and absolutely destroying my toes on the particle board floors the day before we got our hardwood installed. Swinging from her princess carriage bed like a monkey in her underwear with her curly blonde hair everywhere and glitter tattoos on her whole body. Running around the yard picking flowers and jumping in “muddles” in her rain boots (that she never took off). That’s the way I try to remember her the most. As the happiest little girl who just loved life so much.
There are times when I let the pain set in and I let myself go back to her last days. Laying on the couch with her watching her favorite movies and telling her how sorry I was that she didn’t feel good. “It’s okay mommy” she told me. The days spent in the hospital, saying our goodbyes. I could give you a play by play of every moment start to the end, because I didn’t sleep and I didn’t leave her side. It’s been two years and I haven’t forgotten a second of it. Her life and her death shaped me into the person I am today.