Spring in 2017

Ugh. Im so sick of grief. And sick of crying.

Ivy was due in the middle of winter. After holiday fanfare. And more than imagining those warm cozy newbie snuggles, I imagined the spring. I imagined emerging from the house with a baby cozied to my chest while big brother and sister ran outside. I imagined walks and parks and endless adventures with a sweet little baby, just buckled onto my person. I imagined a tiny sidekick.

Spring is here, and things are alive. And my baby is not.

And Im guessing that is the weight I’m feeling. Three months is just around the corner. Sometimes the weight of her absence is suffocating. The anger of her being gone is nothing new. But today I’m really feeling angry about what I was left with. I’m not myself anymore. I want to do more than what I’m currently doing with my living children. I want to be more present. I want to cry less. I want to smoke a little less pot. I want to smile more…and have I mentioned that I am SO tired of crying? Time is moving. At the rate of about twenty-four hours per day. ;) But I’m kind of just stuck in this hole.