I saw a little girl the other day. She was due around the same time Jonah was. I told Aaron how I couldn't believe that if Jonah were here, he would be that old already. And I felt that old familiar lump start to rise in my throat. Seeing Sarah walk the same path, early in her grief, refreshes my memory of all the hurt, the loss, the disappointment, the anguish, the constant feeling that everyone thought I was crazy-only to be sealed by people telling me I was crazy. I don't miss those days. But they really are never far from me. I can walk into a crowded room now and not fall apart. I can meet new people and not worry what my response will be when they ask how many kids I have. I can smile and laugh and not feel like people are gauging whether or not I am handling things well. I can even sing with the congregation in church again. But at night, when everyone else is asleep in my house, I still lay wide awake with tears rolling down my face, missing Jonah and Harper and remembering every single moment that I had with them. The pain and the hurt is still as fresh as it was almost five years ago, I guess I'm just better at keeping it together hese days.
Januaries are hard because they lead to Februaries.