It's a simple question.
It's a loaded question.
I'm thankful to have people in my life who are willing to ask.
I tried to think of a percentage to say how I'm doing.
Putting a number on it was too difficult.
So let's just say I'm feeling pretty good.
Most of the time.
Life goes on.
Or does it?
This morning Sammy asked me to be Baby Sister while we played.
Bedtime was about the same:
Where are Baby Sister's lips?
Where is Baby Sister's tummy?
I miss Baby Sister.
So do I, sweet boy.
Tonight I was putting away a load of clean towels.
I figured it was time to remove the baby girl stuff.
I don't care if the boys use a pink towel,
but they really are too big for them.
I pulled out the first stack and doubled over.
I thought I was going to vomit.
Thankfully it didn't go past weeping in the hall.
Once I got everything cleared out I headed for the nursery.
I opened the door.
The door that we have to pass to get to all the other bedrooms.
The door that is always closed.
The room is mostly untouched.
Still anxiously awaiting its baby.
I sat the towels on top of the fully stocked changing table.
I turned around to sit in the rocking chair.
You know, the one I was supposed to feed and comfort her in.
I couldn't sit because it is covered in papers from the hospital and funeral home.
Instead I gripped the table so I could stand.
I walked out of the room,
closed the door,
and started to sort the rest of our laundry.
The whole thing lasted ten minutes tops.
It's only been 11 weeks since we found out we lost her.
There won't always be precious little baby towels and washcloths to put away.
I'm doing alright.
Most of the time.
