6 months

Today is the 12th, so it has been exactly 6 months since I said hello and goodbye to baby Elizabeth. Interestingly, it has also been almost exactly 1 year to the day since finding out I was pregnant with her.

I'm feeling pretty reflective about the whole thing today, trying to put words to my emotions. I've pretty much kept my grief and healing process off the blog, and that was a conscious decision. Rather than sitting here typing a bunch of angry or sad words, I've chosen to work through it myself. Yes, I know I am free to write and share and all that, but after the initial shock began to wear off, I chose to grieve quietly and personally. It has been working well, I think. I guess I just want to bring you in for a moment on this day, 6 months later, to let you all know that I am doing fine. 'Fine' is a relative term, of course, because I am still sad and sometimes angry and often hurting, but I can honestly say I don't feel straight-up awful anymore. And that is a sweet, sweet relief.

Last month, on the 12th, I was sitting with a friend and having lunch with our kids when she asked me how I was doing. She said, "you know, it really hasn't been that long." And that struck me, because truly, what is that long? What's a long time in this situation? 5 months certainly isn't long, but then again 5 years isn't that long either. When August 12, 2011 rolls around I will most likely be sitting against a headstone and weeping for my baby. And I know it will feel like it just happened. That's the nature of this whole thing. It never, ever goes away. It just becomes easier to work with the memories and get through my days. I think of my baby every single day. But I have come to a point where I can focus on her, on her tiny sweet face, on what it felt like to hold her in my arms, rather than on what I felt like. I can think of how beautiful she was, rather than thinking about the looks of pity and sadness on the faces of everyone around me. I can remember the things I said to her, rather than all the things that were said to me.

I think often about having another baby, as the idea of pregnancy slowly moves from 'terrifying' to 'exciting,' though I'm not there yet. And the thought will always scare me now, at least a little. We'll see what happens with that.

Hubs is good. He deals with it in his own way, though he doesn't like to talk about it. That's ok with me, as I know he is willing to discuss it if I need to. He just chooses not to bring it up.

And Daughter. Oh, Daughter. Love of my life, joy of my days, bringer of light and happiness in our home. I thank God she will not remember any of what went on. She drives us totally nuts in her almost-2-year-old way, but oh, how we adore her. I sit with her every morning at her request and we watch "It's a Big, Big World" and "Sesame Street" in our jammies under a blanket. I kiss her head and inhale her smell until she wiggles away. I treasure every kiss and hug she chooses to give. If nothing else, the experience of losing one child has made us a thousand times more grateful for the other.

So that is that. I just felt the need to say something and now I've done it and I feel better. Back to the regularly scheduled lightness and mild sarcasm in a day or two. Thanks for once again reading and understanding and supporting me.