Looking at this breaks me. It gives me a glimpse of myself, a year ago.
The anguish. The guttural feral scream that retched from my gut, in between the breaths that I forced into her little cold body, before the paramedics arrived...this is what I relive most often. This is me.
Putting my experience into picture form just says so much more than I could ever say. Even I can barely look at it.
"Do not judge the bereaved mother. She comes in many forms. She is breathing, but she is dying. She may look young, but inside she has become ancient. She smiles, but her heart sobs. She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS, but she IS NOT, all at once. She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity." ~Author Unknown
Sorry for the darkness right now. It's just where I'm at.