I'm having a craptastic night. Can't sleep. At all. You would think after not getting much sleep at all for the last three nights, I would just crawl in bed and pass out...not so much. I have been tossing and turning and getting up and down. I know why. It doesn't happen ever month, but more often than not, I get this way a few days before anniversaries. Even though I don't think about it before hand, and don't even consciously pay attention to the dates. Here I am, up on the eighth month anniversary on the night my Ila girl died.
Sometimes it sneaks up on you, like it has this time. It just slowly works its way into your plans, your whole day or week even. Other times, it hits like a wrecking ball, out of nowhere you are slammed sideways. It's not easy to just stand back up and keep going, no matter which was it attacks you. Grief just hurts. It's not fair either. These days that can be so crippling, it's made worse by the fact the whole world just keeps going. It's just another day. But for me, its a day that takes me back to the very moments that hurt the worst.
Tonight I remember what it was like on this night eight months ago. Laying in bed, sleep being a little hard to find, worrying about the little girl inside me who I hadn't felt move in hours. Loving her so incredibly much that I thought my heart might burst and being so thankful that after waiting for so long, that we were finally having a baby, the girl that was promised to us. Rolling
over, trying to dismiss those nagging feelings that something was terribly wrong. Everything would be fine in the morning, I would wake up and she would be more wiggly than ever before. Oh how I miss those little kicks. Those wonderfully flutters! I wish I had got to feel her for longer, more often. I cherished ever movement I ever felt from her. That may seen fairytaleish but it's true. The hours I spent praying for it, the years I waited for it, makes you really appreciate what you have. I really did love it all. I sure miss her.
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