January 20

Tomorrow. Tomorrow will mark four years since we found out our Olivia was not whole. This time of year is always hard for me. The dark winter days are made harder by the memories and time hasn't helped. I'm sure some are tired of these posts. I'm sure some keep waiting for me to "get over it." But here's the reality, I never will. Just like Livie will never get over it.
Last night I checked Livie (she has a cold, possibly worse but we won't know until her appt at one) after having that nagging feeling all night. Her sats were in the low 80's, high 70's. I had to wake her up to put on her oxygen. While Andrew and I held down her arms so we could get those blue lips pink again I bawled. Her and I cried together over the return of the oxygen. We cried over the fact that her little heart just can't fight illness like everyone else's. We cried over the soft hum of the concentrator in the other room. We cried over the unfairness of it all. And when she stopped crying and I kept going it was because I hate, HATE, the fact that my baby has to hurt (emotionally and/or physically) on a regular basis just to live.
Four years ago tomorrow I had no idea what our lives would be like. I didn't know the roller-coaster that awaited us. I didn't know what it meant to live one day at a time. I didn't know that everything would have greater meaning. I didn't know that the strength of someone so small would add so much to my life. I didn't know that she was what we needed. I hate January 20th, but I love my girl and if this was the only way I could have her, I wouldn't have it any other way.