I don't exactly know why. Maybe it's this painfully long, cold winter full of ridiculous amounts of snow and ice. My never ending lack of Vitamin D. The ache in my back that doesn't go away. My constant worrying because one of the girls is sick. Or has staples in her head. My lack of sleep because one of the girls is sick. Or has staples in her head.
After four days of saying that her tummy hurt and acting a bit off, Em had some not so nice tummy issues yesterday. And threw up twice. The girls had just recovered from a cold/cough thing. Anna just had the staples removed from her head. I thought that we were finally going to have a healthy week. So I ended up "sleeping" with Em last night because I was afraid she was going to choke on vomit and I wouldn't hear her. I spent half the night with her little hand thrown across my face.
I hate always focusing on what comes next instead of living in the here and now. I hate questioning every decision I've made over the past six years. Why can't we all be happy with what we have now?
My babies will be four years old in two short months and I am painfully aware that they are not babies anymore.
Rich and I are in the process of planning the girls' birthday celebration(s). In an email discussing potential dates for their party, Rich asked me about dates for a mass for Abigail for her birthday. And that threw me into another kind of funk. Shouldn't I be planning a fourth birthday party and a fifth party party? What would she have wanted to do?
And while I'm in that funk, I think about some of the comments people have made regarding her death. You see, I don't hold any of those comments, no matter how much I may disagree, against anyone. I know that no one means to upset me. Everyone has a different belief system. A different view. Sometimes people say things because they think that it will make me feel better. Maybe it makes them feel better.
I've been told that if Abbey hadn't died, the girls wouldn't be here. But you see, Rich and I had planned to have two kids back to back. We would joke about me returning to work from my maternity leave pregnant again. That was the plan and the plan worked. So that really doesn't make me feel better. It almost seems like reverse logic. Like if someone walked up to me and said, "Hey, you need to have another baby. If you don't, you will never know your daughter, Samantha."
I regret ever wishing time away.