It's not the sadness that hurts so much. For truly I am not sad all the time.
It is the yearning. The longing for the unreachable that eats me up and spits me out.
I follow many babyloss and childloss blogs in my new found 'community' where I am understood better than I am by friends who share coffee with me.
It is the yearning for my daughter when I wake up in the morning that creates an ache in me.
It is not sadness over her death. It is the yearning, the longing...there are no words to explain that longing...always there...always dogging me...yearning yearning yearning...
Many of my fellow bloggers appear to be doing better than I. Many appear to be doing worse. How is it even possible to judge 'better' or 'worse' when dealing with the worst pain in the world...when processing the unthinkable.
I still can't believe sometimes that I had such a precious girl and that she should be THREE now. Three and cheeky. Three and cute. God, three!
And I yearn...but I yearn more for the baby than the little girl. I wish for the little girl but I yearn for the Eva I held in my arms. The 15 pounds of preciousness. I yearn for that girl. To hold her in my arms and snuggle that 15 pounds.
Oh, to hold you again my precious one.