Ah, 2008. New Years was refreshingly good. We spent time away from our home, with friends that we don't get to see often, and it was nice. New Years Day, Evan got sick, started acting like he was having an asthma attack/allergic reaction, and I freaked. I realize I reacted pretty emotionally and probably overreacted, in some people's eyes, but I really don't care. I live in constant fear that something horrible will happen to Evan. Whether it's asthma, allergies, childhood cancer, horrific accident... whatever, I'm sure it will happen. I realize also, that I'm not being very rational here, and the fact that I *know* this probably makes it okay, for now. When I imagine something happening to him, I nearly lose my mind. I think it would not be possible for a tragedy like that to hit a family twice, and yet, it can, and does. A friend of mine who lost her 3 day old to a metabolic disorder nearly lost her 5 year old over the holidays to the same thing. I cannot wrap my head around that. I want to take her pain and fear away so much, I just ache for her, because while my fear may be somewhat unfounded, hers are not, and that's just wrong.
Religion is something that I've played around with throughout this whole thing. I had a lot of people pray for me, and my family, which I'm grateful for. But, only in the way you say thank you when someone blesses you for sneezing. I really don't think much of it. I'm glad they're thinking of us, but that's about it. I've had comments that stink, like I'm now living a blessed life (whatever that is) since Isla has died, and I'm keenly aware of the "real" meaning of life. Uh, yeah.. thanks, but I'll take blissful oblivion and a living daughter any day. So, I've tried to entertain the notion of an afterlife, or some sort of spiritual world beyond ours. I can't. I want to, believe me. If I could somehow convince myself that Isla is out there, waiting for me, playing on clouds, sliding down rainbows, I would gladly embrace it. But, I cannot. It is not something I was raised with, faith. I never had it instilled in me, never had any formal religious education, etc etc etc... So, it's pretty hard to up and decide to "believe" in God and some kind of other worldly existence. And believe me, if there was ever a reason to do so, reuniting with my baby would be it. So it's not like I haven't tried. I am pretty much resigned to the fact that this is it. My short time with Isla is all I will get. Maybe I'm wrong, hopefully I am.
So, 2008. While I'm glad to have 07 over with, because it puts a healing distance between me and trauma, I am sad too. Tim was sad because it was no longer the year our daughter was born, and that puts a sad distance between us. It's like a page in our lives has turned, and her name's not on the next page. Her character's been written out of the book. While I know that's not true, and she's only as obsolete as we allow her to be, I can't ignore the fact that time marches on, and it is doing so without her. And that hurts. Here go our lives, our move, our relationships, birthdays and holidays without Isla. That. Sucks. Large.
And that's all I feel like saying tonight. More on my mind, but I'm not feeling like putting it out there right now. Happy 08 everyone.
love you baby girl. xoxo mom.