So we now approach this season. It's a time of renewal, new beginnings, growth. This year it also means reflection and anxiety. I know very well that the Blue Bonnets in Texas should have my almost 1 year old girl bounding around among them in joy. I should be wandering the stores searching for that perfect poofy Easter dress. Maggie should be by my side in the yard as I dig holes that will give life to small new plants.
I realize that my current pregnancy may lend to hormonal spurts of crying anyway, but this last month has seemed to be more difficult. I have come to dread spring time because it also brings death to my family. And I feel it. Deeply. I feel the dread of April approaching, the blessed month I met my firstborn daughter. And then May, when I had to say goodbye to my firstborn daughter. I still can't comprehend what has happened almost a year out. It is still not fair. It still brings a deep loneliness I hope will one day leave me. It still chokes me up to glance at my bedroom wall at the portrait painting so lovingly made for us. It still pains me to shop for the many new springs babies arriving any day now. I still get angry standing at her grave, feeling so close, and yet so very far from her.
So, it has been an emotional month. It has been the most joyous so far with my pregnancy, feeling this new life's movements. I have, hand in hand with my husband, faced head on the church, bringing to attention good and poor supports in our experiences this year. And I have had my eyes brim with tears more this month than the last few months as I recognize the coming of a would-be first birthday of my deceased child, approaching quickly with the new spring leaves and greenery.
I hope the first year really is the hardest. That means this has to get easier, right? Soon?