This week, I had a good session with my new therapist. One thing we discussed was ‘openness’, after I expressed to her that I worry my grief might be turning me into a truly crazy person. I talked about how there’s always so much chaos occurring in my mind at any given time, and how I’ve also taken up the belief that the butterflies and dragonflies are representative of Lucy. I got excited because one landed on me yesterday during my morning walk with Waggs. I shared these things with her, and she said, “No, you are absolutely not crazy, you are simply open to more things and possibilities because your perception of the world has changed.” She went on to ask me if I know how rare it really is for a dragonfly to land on a person, and that maybe it really was a little gift. She’s right, my perception of the world has changed drastically; nothing seems the same. I suppose it’s also only natural for me to look for ways to connect with Lucy, and I’ve decided to go ahead and embrace it all because it brings me comfort. Butterflies, dragonflies, and the beauty in nature are all representative of our little angel. I’ve been taking my daily walks with Waggs and looking for a good photo op each time for something that makes me think of her (well, really everything makes me think of her, it’s just a matter of what to take a picture of), and it’s become something I look forward to in my daily routine. It’s a positive piece of my day and I don’t like missing it now. Then, I turn around and share those photos with others on my Facebook page, utilizing the #lucyroseslight stamp along with some thoughts. It feels good to do that since there are so many ways in which I wish I could share her, but I can’t. I will have to settle for what I can do, which is preserving her memory and ensuring that others get the chance to think of her too. There’s some comfort in that, though of course I just wish she were here instead. I continue to try to leave myself open to different ways of healing, and I’m sure I’ll be doing that for the rest of my life.

Suezi, my mother-in-law, invited me to go check out the shops in nearby St. Joe yesterday, just for something to do and a change of scenery, so we went and did that. I am lucky to have one of the sweetest people ever as a mother-in-law. Lucy was so blessed with both her and my mom as grandmothers… they were both so in love with little Lucy all along. It breaks my heart all over again when I think of all that they have lost too. It was good to get out and about yesterday, though between all of the walking from shop to shop and my morning walk with Waggs, I was absolutely exhausted by the end of the day… I definitely see now that with the C-section still healing, there’s no way I’d make it through a full day of teaching on my feet yet with the way I felt at the end of the day. Overall, it was a good day, but there was a moment in one shop where a woman around my age pushed a stroller, much like the one we bought, with a new baby girl that looked around Lucy’s six week age… even writing this makes me feel like I’ll burst into tears… it was all I could do to choke back sobs and blink hot tears back. I wanted so badly to just bolt out of that shop; I couldn’t breathe, I was starting to shake a little, and I couldn’t get away from that stroller fast enough. Talk about PAIN… oh there it was. Outwardly, I didn’t draw any attention to myself, but inside I was screaming. I knew that I also should have been pushing my baby girl in a stroller through that shop, just happy to be out of the house, taking my baby out and about. I think this time, it really wasn’t jealousy I was feeling… I’m not sure exactly what it was. Panic for sure, mixed with sadness, hurt, longing, and more panic. THAT is a trigger- seeing other babies Lucy’s age. That’s it right there. Yes, it makes me sad when I see pregnant women, or other little ones, but when it’s a baby her age, that’s when the walls come crumbling down. After that, I just didn’t really feel like myself at all. Suezi was of course very understanding and gave me a hug after we stepped out of the shop, because she knew. I’m sure it was tough for her to see that too, just like it would be for my mom. It’s moments like that where my world feels like it’s all caving in and I don’t want to dig myself out of the rubble. But, that’s not a choice I have… I have to keep on going, step by step. On the drive home, after I left Chris’s mom and dad’s house, it hit me once again just how much we have lost and how much we are all missing out on. I cried the whole way… I couldn’t stop the tears from soaking my face- they just wouldn’t stop. I could obviously still drive, and there’s just something about being alone in the car with sunglasses on that makes it seem okay to cry it out. Our Lucy should be here with us.

This is just so damn hard.