by Melissa Willets posted in Parenting

I woke up this morning and didn't want to be awake. Staring at the ceiling, I wondered how I was going to make it through another day. Another day, without her.
It's been almost three months since I lost my baby. And yet, days like this still come out of nowhere. Some days, I do really well. I'll feel the suffocating sadness when I wake up, and realize that yes, it's real. She's gone. But then, purpose pulls me forward, into my day. I do have three kids to love and care for, and many days, that's enough to keep me going. One foot in front of the other. Coffee, fixing cereal, making school lunches, sitting in the drop-off line.
Other days, like this one, I'm stuck. Lying in bed, I'm pretty sure I can't do it. I can't pretend for another long day that everything is okay, that things are the same, that I'm not half-dead inside. I'm crying before I even make it to the bathroom. I'm hopeless before I even brush my teeth. But then, the calls come. "Mom!" They're up. They need me. It's wonderful, yet overwhelming, and suffocating. I just want to climb back in bed, and sob, and give up. And I do, for a while. But the calls keep coming. "Mom!" So I wipe my tears away, and trudge to the stairs. I go through the motions of helping the kids get dressed, and brush their teeth. I make their beds.
And somewhere along the way, I feel a little less raw and exposed. A hug from one daughter. Another laughs. Life seems ever-so-sligh...