Friday the 13th.

Friday the 13th.

I used to think it was funny how freaked out people would get over "Friday the 13th".

Not anymore.

"Friday the 13th" turned out to be the worst day of my life... just 18 short months ago. Or maybe 18 long months ago. Either way... it was the worst day of my life.

I don't know what it looked like outside that day. I went into the hospital while it was still dark... it had been rainy and dreary the day before...and I didn't step outside again until almost three days later.

Today has been rainy & dreary all day...and I can't help but think about how dreary I felt that day, 18 months ago.

My heart was broken (along with my husband's)...and our dreams were shattered.

And eighteen months later... our hearts still ache for her. Just like it was yesterday.

I hate you, Friday the 13th. I hate {most} of what you remind me of. The only good that came out of that day was seeing the beautiful face of my perfect little girl, Lillian Joy.

Rest in Peace, Sweet Lilly. Happy 18 months in Heaven.