Fragments

It's 10:19PM.  Jason and Khaily are asleep.  I walk through my house, remembering life before we were so completely broken.  I stand outside her door and remember what her quick little baby breaths sounded like when she slept, I remember the panicky Mom feeling when I accidentally shut the door too hard and heard her move thinking I'd woken her up.  I remember her "tired" cry...when she'd wake in the night but not really, just enough to fuss and fall back to sleep...I remember laying in bed thinking, "pleaaaase just be a tired cry...don't wake up momma needs to sleep!" and then on the nights that it was a real cry, I remember dragging my butt out of bed, bringing her into the living room and snuggling on the couch, initially annoyed that I was awake, but after a few seconds of snuggling her it all melted away and I was so in love with that moment.  So in love with every chance I had to hold her.  I watched her grow so fast and change so much, that every moment was the only moment...and I'm glad for that...because now I have a million tiny "mommy moments" that will be mine and hers forever.  I remember when we'd take Khaily to school we would come home, I'd get her breakfast and she'd eat while I got ready for the day and then we'd go on whatever adventure we needed to kill the couple hours before we picked up Khaily.  I remember the couple of times that I had to take her to work with me for just a second, how I was secretly excited to show her off...she was so perfect and beautiful and such a happy baby.  I have a constant fear in the back of my mind that these moments are going to fade away.  Every once in a while I get a calm feeling, a glimmer of hope that maybe I will survive this without going completely nuts, and just as quickly as it comes its gone.  I feel like I'm losing my mind a lot of times.  I'll see a shadow out of the corner of my eye, or a reflection in the window, or hear a noise and my heart will drop and I'll look for her, knowing logically that she's not here.  I just miss her. So much, all the time, with every breath, and it's completely out of my control.  All the tiny fragments of time that we call "memories" aren't enough to fill the hole.  They're just fragments.