I buried my baby

I feel like I've posted a lot on here, but I just wanted to talk for a little longer. We buried Millie today, and it wasn't something I wanted to bottle up. The community here is so welcoming and kind, and it's really given me an outlet for my grief. So, thank you.My mother helped me pick out what Millie was going to be buried in, and we chose this beautiful yellow sundress that she used to wear all the time in summer. It was her favorite season, and I wanted her to spend the rest of eternity in it. When Millie would wear it, I'd always tease her because her hair was this golden blonde and it blended with the dress when she wore it down, and we'd just laugh about it. Her hair looked so pretty. It sounds weird, probably, but I cut off some of it in the back, so I could see it sometimes after she's buried. She had the prettiest hair. It doesn't look the same in pictures. Even the part I cut off, it doesn't look like Millie's.Nothing about her looked like Millie. My ex lobbied for open casket, and I figured I'd give him that much. I wanted to see her, too. But it wasn't Millie. Even when she was on the floor, when she was just barely dead, she looked more like Millie than whatever we put in the ground today. That wasn't my baby. I think maybe it was because I didn't see her eyes open. Millie had gorgeous eyes, they always glowed kind of golden right before the sun set. And when it was right in the afternoon, they were this honey brown. She wouldn't pierce your soul with her eyes, she would just wrap you in a big hug. And her eyelashes, they were so long. I told her she had cow eyes, all big and brown and beautiful, with those long lashes.All of Millie's old friends came, and it was lovely of them. They were all really sad, but they gave me hugs and I just held them like they were my Millie. I practically raised some of those girls like my own with how much they were over. Millie used to hide her one friend in the house when it was time to go, and they'd plot on how they could sleepover forever. I could never find her, so we'd all just wait until they got sick of each other. They weren't very good friends, so it never took that long. Some of Millie's coaches came. They were really lovely. Her soccer coach spoke at the service, and talked about how dedicated she was and how much of a team player she was. But we all knew it was BS. Millie hogged the ball all the time, because she just wanted to win. I'd tell her not to, but she'd always say that none of the other girls could play like her. She was right.It was hard. It was really hard to say goodbye. I don't know what else I can say, and I'm sorry if this hasn't been entirely eloquent. Writing has been such a powerful coping tool for me, so thank you all for reading this. via /r/Parenting https://ift.tt/2E9rqvz