9 months, 4 months

Here we are.
Nine months post-diagnosis.
Four months [almost] since she was taken.
How can so much happen in such a short span of time?
How can so much change?
I look at Goose's treatment history, her photos, and I just cannot make sense of it.
Why her?
Why us?

We should still be counting down to the end of treatment.

Anxiously awaiting her last days of chemo. 

Taking her on a make-a-wish trip to celebrate all that she has persevered though.

Counting down the days until preschool. 

But here we are.

Four months out from the last moment I got to look my baby girl in the eyes and tell her how much I love her, how incredibly brave she is.

Four months out from the sequence of events that I still can't grasp.

Four months out from the moment that changed everything.

And so the counter runs, and it will until the day I can join my baby again.

17 weeks...

Nearly 4 months...

Too long.

And yet, not long enough to be relieved of this pain.

The last time my baby girl would play with all her siblings, ride her scooter, be at home. The evening before her final admission.

Photos from the type of milestones that, in a right world, I should be reminiscing about.

After finding out that our puzzle-piece, very planned and perfectly executed #4 November baby was our sweet Goose.

4 months old

9 months old