My heart has been wounded and my heart has been broken since my sweet baby girl passed away. The day that this mirror broke, I was so angry. I remembered going into Isabella’s room and screaming to the top of my lungs in anger. Angry with God and just being so angry with everything! Why her God? Why, my sweet baby girl? Answer me why!! And then let out the loudest bellowing scream; I’m sure our neighbors heard it. Then I ran out of her room and slammed the door behind me, and I heard a big thump of something falling and hitting the floor. Somehow, I knew it was this mirror, the mirror that I just hung months ago, the mirror that I so lovingly hung with care. I opened the door, and there the mirror laid on the floor. I carefully picked it up, turned it around and looked at it, and sure enough, it was broken. Broken just like my heart, broken like the hopes and dreams that I had for my sweet baby girl that I never got to bring home. I cried more tears and felt more anger. As I looked into the broken mirror, I thought to myself, I feel just like this mirror, broken. I used to say my heart feels like Humpty Dumpty, not even All the king's horses and all the king's men could put my heart back together again. I know they can’t but I know God can & will. He’s been slowly restoring some of those broken pieces. I know it’s going to take sometime but perhaps someday this Mama’s heart won’t fill so broken.
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