Last Wednesday, April 2, was Emma's nine month birthday. For most people it was just a regular day, but for us it was another milestone to get through. Gosh, nine months, that's so old. If Emma were alive I would be starting to think about her first birthday. How can it be that my baby girl has been gone that long? How can it be that I still stop and wonder how I got here and where I'm going? It just hasn't clicked yet that this is my reality. I'm not sure it ever will.
I get irritated that life continues on without my consent. That the world keeps spinning while I feel stuck in hell. Grief is selfish, and sometimes I wish everyone would just stop and wallow with me. That's not how it works. So, for those of you who do wallow with me, and let me have my pity party, thank you.