As Penelope’s 6 month angel-versary approaches, I can’t believe I have made it this far. It doesn’t mean that the next 6 months will be any easier. No, I have my birthday and holidays to “make it through.” Days I don’t want to celebrate because again, I am reminded that she’s not here and she should be. Those important firsts. And in my mind, since the holidays seem to make time speed up even faster, then her 1st birthday would be approaching faster than I want it to. A day I dread most of all. A day that was supposed to be joyous. A day that means I’ve made it a year without her.
I’ve had times I think I’m doing great, I’ll let myself be sad or happy, but then something catches me off guard. The past week and a half I’ve been trying to figure out what is causing me to be so anxious. I can’t sleep, I feel like there’s a lump in my throat, I’m hyperaware of my heartbeat and start freaking out if it starts beating too fast. And then today happens. I burst into tears. I went back to work last week, and kids are remembering me and asking if I had my baby and how my baby is doing, and I’m trying my hardest to push back the tears when I answer their questions. I want to answer honestly, but that’ll only lead to more questions. I miss her so much. I want to see her face. I want to hold her in my arms. I wish I had happier answers for them, but I don’t, I lie and say she’s fine.
So tonight I cry for my daughter. I cry the pain that has built inside the past couple weeks. Pushed down so people think I'm ok, pushed away so I don't cry.
We can’t slow down time, but we can slow our lives down to enjoy the beauty of it. Loving our family and friends. Date nights with our spouses. Helping each other out just because. Taking the time to heal. Finding the joy in life again when it’s the hardest thing you want to do and letting ourselves cry when we need to.