TimeSaturday, March 30, 2013
Sometimes, I can't believe that I have survived this long without her.
Sometimes, I can't imagine surviving another day without her.
Time stretches before me and it just seems so long. I am almost 40, and I feel like I am 100. All of those seconds to come make me weak inside.
Some days I just want to quit this place. Each breath drags so slowly out of me.
I really try to think positive, and I am truly grateful for what I have.
But I still miss her .
EVERY SECOND OF EVERY DAY.
And it seems like I am supposed to have moved on, especially since I have had another baby now. I feel an incredible sense of guilt, because there are so many women I know who can not have children.
I would give anything to just look at her again.
To feel her weight in my arms. I just want a few more minutes.
I often find myself angry that I didn't think things out more. That I didn't pack the bag with memorial items, and I didn't call Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep.
But then I realize that it's not my inaction that I am angry about. It's not opportunities missed that haunt me.
It's the lack of time that I had with her.
Just one more minute of touching her hair.
Her tiny fingernails.
Sometimes, the weight of it all is too much to carry around.
I try to juggle two halves of myself.
The half that picked up and moved on. The half that has other people to care for and other times to live in. That half that lives out life in a variety of ways and places.
The half that sits in that room with my arms wrapped around that beautiful baby flesh. The half that won't ever leave her.
I am stuck there, while the world turns and people greet one another in the street.
Sometimes, it doesn't seem fair that life moves on- even though I move along with it.