#01302023

My little buddy turned two this month 🤯🥰 and I’ve been saying this for his entire life so far, but this is the cutest age yet. He’s got amazing verbal skills (at least I think so!) and can tell us exactly what he wants these days. He’s obsessed with trucks, cucumbers, and riding his tricycle. Life is good when you’re two.

We’ve had lots of snow here and continue to settle into life in rural PA. I’ve started one of the paint by numbers kits for adults.. I felt like I needed something just for me. It’s got something like 2,800 little tiny spaces to paint in and while I’m fully aware this is painting for dummies, I’m actually really enjoying it. For someone with v little artistic talent and a lot of anxiety about creating something from nothing, this fits the bill really well.

I miss Pip. Miss him every day. We had a phone call with our accountant the other day and had to tell him what happened - something that has gotten slightly easier to say out loud but still rips my heart out every time - and I was surprised by his reaction. I guess because, how well do you know your accountant, right? But he could hardly talk to us between his own tears. He wrote a very kind and heartfelt email over the weekend explaining his own loss experience. It was yet another reminder of the kindness and resilience that we humans can share. When people have all but stopped asking how we’re doing, it was a nice meaningful human connection. A nice moment.

I think about what we might do for his one year birthday. One year passing anniversary. The fact that I’ll be very pregnant with his younger sibling on his first birthday and will likely have that baby by the anniversary of his passing. I’m scared. I want to know that I’m strong enough to get through it alright. I think I am.. it’s just daunting. I always tell myself, and I truly believe, that the worst is over. There will never be a worse day than that day and the ones that followed. I have a lot of pervasive thoughts and images that pop into my brain, especially when I lay down in bed at night, from that day. I wonder when and if that’ll get easier. It’s still hard to remember the good moments over the traumatic right now. I wonder a lot about getting myself back in therapy but I have a lot of unresolved issues (fears, resentments) about the months that followed pip’s passing and how my having gone to therapy initially for PPD was viewed and handled by the agency investigating B and I for possible child abuse. (An investigation I haven’t talked about here but that was really traumatic in itself and that obviously concluded that it was unfounded).

for --free--