The 16.5 months you were alive were the best months of Momma's life. Everything clicked, and life was bright, happy, yellow. The future appeared limitless, full of beautiful possibilities.
In the last 8 months I've begun to wonder - have I had my happiness? Was I gifted so much joy in the time I had with you that I've now used up my "allocation"? Is that concept ridiculous?
Every time I feel the darkness lifting, every time I think we might have a slice of positive energy coming our way, it is squashed in a brutal, uncaring way. Between navigating this grief, dealing with stress at work, and working to have a happy, healthy pregnancy Momma is spent. There is nothing left. Yet, life seems to keep requiring more and more and more...
All I've ever wanted is a calm life with my family, a job I enjoy, and time to help leave this world a better place than I found it. Not a tall order. So, why does it feel so unattainable?
Peanut, in my naive, silly way I think everything would be resolved if I could just have you back. In the absence of that possibility, I just hope, pray, plead for a visit or a sign from you. Momma needs hope.
Missing you so very, very much. To the moon, and back.