According to Merriam-Webster, the definition of "hopeless" is: Having no expectation of good or success; despairing.
Yep. That sounds about right.
For the first time in weeks...maybe even months, that is exactly where Momma is tonight. Hopeless. 2011 has been a year that continues to defy all reason. I keep thinking we can't possibly have one more bad thing happen to us, only to have the universe course correct me in the blink of an eye.
This year has not been without its own blessings - The Bean, to be specific. The pregnancy is still progressing well, and he is one active, healthy little Bean. According to the books, he's actually more like a butternut squash at this point. But, calling him The Squash just doesn't flow like The Bean.
But, here we are, in the midst of anticipating a lonely, hollow holiday season, the awful 1-year anniversary of your death, and the arrival of your little brother and we receive one more blow. One more obstacle. One more challenge from the universe.
Momma has switched back to survival mode. A terrible place to be, but a necessary protective device. I can't help but wonder, "What have we/I done to deserve this? What message are we not hearing? Why us? Why all of this?" These lessons are lost on me. Instead, I am confused. Wounded. Bending so far I feel I'm about to break.
Was all that was good, beautiful, perfect in my life lost on January 26, 2011? I think, perhaps it was. As I have wondered out loud before...maybe I've had my happiness. I look back at pictures of life with you and almost don't recognize that woman. That mom. That bliss. That joy. That Peanut.
Searching for hope tonight, in a world that has lost meaning. And, loving my little Peanut in a way that is indescribably painful. To the moon and back, sweetie.