|More than friends...my "sisters"|
As with anything I do these days, there are highs and lows. So halfway into my second cactus painted glass, I started to feel sad. Sad that this was not the way I was supposed to celebrate my birthday this year. I mean, I probably would have gathered the girls for a night out, but it would have been different as our baby would have been home, tucked soundly into her crib. Or earlier in the day, before we went out, maybe we would have bundled her up and let her see what the snow felt like on her face. I'll never know. In the midst of being happy and enjoying myself, I was also sad. Am I proud of the tears that I shed at dinner as the waiter tried to run as fast as he could from the table? Not particularly. But am I ashamed? Nope. Not really!
Gary went out of his way to make my day special. He brought me flowers last week to work which was such a nice surprise. I was knee deep in my first week in the job and it was such a treat. He remembered a song I liked on the radio and looked up the artist and bought me their CD. He wrapped my presents which was so cool as ususally we are so excited to give each other gifts that they are given in the origial Amazon box that they arrived in...
Last night my mom had dinner at her house for us to celebrate my birthday with the family. Ella was there and looking so cute and when we all clapped as I blew the candle out on my birthday cupcake, she clapped, too. My heart melted as I had one of those happy/sad moments. Happy that my niece is thriving and sad that there was no cousin there to play and clap with her.
Yesterday was 9 months since we said hello and goodbye. How can 9 months feel like an eternity?
Bittersweet...happy/sad...highs and lows...no matter what you call it, it's all so damn hard. I laid in bed last night, thinking about how lucky I am to be loved by so many, and how unlucky I am that my daughter died. I know one has nothing to do with the other. And as my mom pointed out to be when she called to wish be a happy birthday, we were not singled out for this tragedy. It just happened. It is what it is. It's horrible and awful and a whole lot of things that there are not even words for, but my daughter did not die because of anything that I did...she just died.
Sometimes, I admit that a part of me died that day as well. I will spend the rest of my life trying to get that part back. For Allie. For Gary. For me.