Some things that are hard:
1. Harper going to kindergarten. You might think I mean the sadness a lot of moms and dads experience as their babies march off to start their school career. Nope. I was okay with that. Harper is doing half day kindergarten at a small school that also houses the preschool she went to. She knew the teacher and a few friends in her class from going to school there the past two years. The school only goes through second grade. So really, it just feels like more of what we've been doing. I didn't have too much of a moment on the first day. What's hard about Harper going to school is that I love it there. I think it is the most amazing kindergarten on the planet. And I adored the preschool. And Wavy wanted to go there so badly. And this year she could have. (Obviously) she won't now. At back to school night I sat in Harper's tiny chair and listened to all of the great things that will happen there this year; my heart was sad. I read the information the teacher handed out through blurry, tear filled eyes because I wanted to have both my girls in that wonderful place. I wanted to be able to provide good things for Wavy. But now someone else gets to. I'm sad about it.
2. Mixers. Well let's get real. Nobody likes these. I'm talking about the awkward social experiences you sometimes have to participate in at the first of the year in a large group setting. Things like say your name and a personality attribute that starts with the first letter of your name. "I'm Molly and I'm mannerly." Yikes. That was embarrassing just to write. A lot of times these types of things involve information exchanges about your basic stats: family, job, where you live, hobbies, etc. The bottom line (and what I could have said much more succinctly to be sure) is that I hate when people ask how many kids I have. Or if we have kids. Or any such question. I hate the question because I hate the answer. I can hardly bear to say "one." It makes my stomach hurt, my mouth pinch tightly, and fills me with an almost overwhelming need to try to get to my bed and lay down on it. My best answer is to say, "I have a five-year-old daughter." True. But it allows me to say the number "two" in my head. Which also makes my stomach hurt, my mouth pinch tightly, and fills me with an almost overwhelming need to try to get to my bed and lay down on it. Because while my heart belongs to two children only one really remains mine. However, I still prefer that to thinking the answer is one. That just doesn't seem right at all.
3. Pictures of other peoples' families. It makes me see that the mirrored image of my family is woefully empty. Pictures with two or three children remind me that there is only one little girl standing in my pictures. And there is a huge empty space right next to her.
So some things are hard. And that is okay. I can handle that most of the time. We have come to realize that while the longing for our daughter causes great suffering, it will not undo us. We look to God and He carries us through. Our family and friends support us. We can have hard days. We also have better days. There is absolutely no point to this post. It is just me chronicling this loss. If you're still reading I am sorry this was heavy tonight. It's just what is on my mind. Thanks for being here. :)