I don't feel liberty to talk about it like I used to. And that's okay. But I have been suffocating with exhaustion. And suddenly I am so thankful for this blog.
A place of release.
I miss her like crazy. This week has just been hard for some reason. I am not a blubbering mess, more like a shaken bottle ready to burst. The reminders keep building, the what-ifs always a thought away.
I feel incomplete.
I have accepted that she isn't in this world. I don't look for her anymore. She isn't here. If you've never lost a child you probably think I'm crazy but I used to look for her. It seemed insane that the child I carried for 29 weeks just wasn't a part of my life anymore.
Something new happened this week. I suddenly don't miss the NICU. I am suddenly very happy to have that part of our life behind us. I would give anything to be with her, even if it meant the NICU, but I guess I have accepted that as part of our past too. Forever in the past.
:::
Not too long ago I saw a little girl about 18 months old. She was so excited to see our little boy. She had a doll hanging from her clumsy little hands and waddled over to Joseph just repeating "Baby! Baby!" Pointing to him, her parents sort of embarrassed. I loved it of course. She was the sweetest thing. I asked how old she was.
18 months.
I smiled and we laughed about how big our little guy was. Comical.
Then it hit me. I should have a little girl almost 18 months too. I should know what 18 month olds say. What 18 month olds do. What 18 month olds look like. Jenna would already be into dolls and dresses, excited about real babies. I walked away keenly unaware of the life that slipped right out of my hands a year and a half ago.
Sometimes forever seems like just yesterday. I miss my Jenna.
It hardly gets easier.
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