What don't I cry about?

Seemingly nothing. 

Last year I volunteered to talk to a PhD student about early pregnancy loss since I had a miscarriage before Katie. This summer she called to follow up, and I had to tell her about Katie.  After talking about loss to someone, you feel like they're a friend. I couldn't talk about one loss without the other. 

She shared her story with me (at least part of it) via email, and I finally read it today. She never had a child after going through many heartbreaking miscarriages. 

As I told her, I lost a fourteen year old, but had her for 14 years, 10 months and 15 days: precious time that she didn't get. I said before that I would do it again knowing the pain at the end. I'm crying for her loss, that she didn't get that time. 

I'm so damn grateful that I got time with my brilliant, beautiful girl, but a millennium with her could never be enough. 

Maybe back in the groove

It's been a rough time since I've been away. I've been really angry with God. I am calm one minute and then falling apart the next. Yeah, a lot has been going on inside. 

Second Compassionate Friends meeting was last week. I mentioned that last blog. I'm still frightened that I'll be sad for the rest of my life, but a small part has moved toward being resigned to that fact. Of course, a small part still believes that she's not dead, so take that for what it's worth: nothing. 

People have called me strong. One woman told me that I was the strongest bad-assed mother she's ever met. Remarkable, since the day before I had wept nearly non-stop.  I feel weak and vulnerable and fragile. 

I am weak and vulnerable and fragile. 

I recognize it. That's why I've pulled back to my comfort safety zone of friends. I'm friendly, it's just hard to let anyone in the bubble. I know it's not healthy, so I put forth effort to get to know new people. I just don't let them get too close. 

I still talk to Katie. I found a long hair on a door frame yesterday and asked her unfitness hers or sister's. That's how I have always asked the question to either girl. "Is this yours or sister's?"

Sad

I went to my second Compassionate Friends meeting last night. They are my people now. 

What struck me though was that they still hurt 28 years later. I understand. It just hit me that I am going to be sad the rest of my life.