Some nights I plan to wake up, take a nice hot shower, wake up and shake these feelings off me to start an AMAZING day in this world! ...and then I wake up... I feel... lost. hopeless. tired. angry. annoyed. jealous. bitter. ...depressed.
Yesterday was three months since Gracie has been in heaven. I feel like I just published my two month update. Time is flying by and I am without her. No one ever told me that sometimes the "baby [who] makes three" would still leave our big and empty home with just the two of us. My would-of-been due date is fast approaching and I'm left with just scars of the baby I was supposed to hold. Physically and mentally. I was robbed. I have been robbed of ever holding her, and truly showing her how much I loved and wanted her. I am left with a 'would-have-been' picture in my mind of her, with her 'would-have-been' personality and traits, with our 'would-have-been' mother-daughter relationship. Now I sit, with tears streaming, talking to the sky above wondering who she really would have been.
I have been wanting to blog again for awhile... yet, I haven't. I feel like instead of time healing this wound, that everyday life is digging it's heels into my pain. Deeper, and deeper, and deeper still.
There's really no happy ending to this blog. Yet another reason I've been finding it hard to keep you updated. There are no answers. Just another truck full of questions... Please be praying. I'm trying my best to hold it together, and I think I have most of you fooled.
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