I'm feeling like a mother. I have been obsessed with anything baby. It's almost an illness. My baby girl already has a full red sox, patriots and bruins wardrobe. Don't get me wrong. My superstitions and fears are always with me- even through the hours I spend combing online baby stores and picking through my registry.
I was at a discount store today and my husband came up with a pair of pink little toddler winter boots. They were on sale. It was the sweetest thing I've seen. He is genuinely, completely thrilled. My dad purchased an antique child's barber chair for "his granddaughter." He is over the top too.
"Is this your first?" is the question of the hour. Everywhere I go, people feel the need to ask. How do I answer this? Usually I say no. I say my first died in childbirth. I don't say it to get a rise or make them feel uncomfortable. I say it because Sally Ann will always hold the place in my heart as my first baby girl. It just doesn't seem right to negate that.
I think I will always feel a bit of sadness from what has been. I can't believe I can say it has gotten easier. Easier in the sense that I can function and think about it at the same time. Easier in that my flood of tears has slowed to usually only a few tears at a time. I don't know if I truly believe in life beyond death but I pray each day that I will be with my baby in death.
For now, I'll shop for the living. For me and my next baby girl.
Coming Back from Beyond
8 years ago