Libby: Look at my baby! She's dead.
Playmate: She's not dead, she's just sleeping.
Libby: No, she's dead, and that's not sleeping. She died so we have to bury her.
Playmate: I think she's still sleeping.
I sat here today listening to Libby have this conversation with her friend, and really, it broke my heart. It's so sad to me that this is her new life. That she thinks babies die, and that you bury them. You don't bring them home to love and take care of. You love them and you go to their graveside. You bring them sweet trinkets because that's really all you can do. Now that's Libby's idea of babies. So sad. But maybe she has a better grasp of death than we do. That death isn't the end, that death is just a short goodbye.
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Heartbreaking... Sometimes I get angry when I feel like my children have to go through a rough patch, I feel like I should better protect them and keep them from experiencing those things. Mother's instinct, I guess... But I guess I can't protect them from everything, nor would Heavenly Father have me do so. I'm sorry that Libby has had to taste this bitter cup so early in life, I know that she has Help guiding her though. :)
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