"I pray that God, who gives you hope, will keep you happy and full of peace as you believe in Him. May you overflow with hope through the power of the holy spirit"- Romans 15:13
Somedays, it feels like April 7th, 2012 was just yesterday. I am realizing, 5 months in, that losing a child really doesn't get easier and at times it's worse than it was the day before. It's a constant empty feeling. I don't know exactly what precipitates more overwhelming emotions, it just happens.
We spent a weekend away, having fun watching Cole run wild at Storyland. It, just like anything else in life now, was bittersweet. There were so many families with small baby girls, and the question "why us?" rang loud in my mind. That's not a pleasant thought. I'm no longer baby crazy like I always was. I see a baby, and feel indifferent.
I hate that when we do go away, I have an ache to just stay home, as if I'm leaving my baby behind with a babysitter. I hate that I feel like I need to go to the cemetery before and after we go away. I hate that I feel like a bad mom if I only make it there once a week. I hate that flowers I plant at her grave die. I hate that I have to look for signs that's she's right there with us wherever we are. I hate that when my little Cole hears "Olivia" or "baby" he reaches for my locket and says "more" to see her picture. I hate that I know what a wonderful big brother Cole would be, because I know he already is one but doesn't realize it. I hate being able to cry my eyes out in an instant and how easily they burn when I do because it's such a frequent occurence. I hate when people ask how many kids I have and having to choose how to respond and if that person can handle hearing the truth. I hate wondering how amazing Olivia's personality would have been and if she would be just like Cole or completely different. I hate that we were given this to bear.
