How am I supposed to start this story? I have no clue. Because the reality is, I still can’t quite fathom that the story belongs to me. To my child. To my family. I wonder, will it always feel this way? Will it forever be so raw? I think I want it to be. I cannot relive the memories of that very first day without feeling like I am right back there. Without feeling my heart in my throat. For that very reason, I rarely allow myself to go there. But when I do……it is completely and utterly gut wrenching…….when I do, I want it to be that real. It is a terrible reality, but how can I let it fade? I can’t. It is my reality whether I like it or not. I don’t want it. But I’ve got it. It’s mine. And it will forever live in the treasure box in my heart. And I will open it when my heart can handle it.