Today, my little angel turned 9 months old at 6:31 a.m.
I'm not ready for time to be moving this fast. I'm not ready to accept the fact that it's been eight months and nineteen entire days since I've held my daughter, or since the last time I kissed her forehead and told her "I will always love you forever."
I'm not ready to face her first birthday, which will be here in three short months which will go by in the blink of an eye. Not ready, not ready, not ready. So I won't pretend to be. I don't know if I can be strong for this one.