If Angel had been, yesterday would have been her one year birthday.
I dreaded it's approach. I assumed it would be another day of crying and sludging through gelatin, getting nearly nothing done. It wasn't like that.
I didn't forget, not exactly. It was the first thing that occurred to me when I woke up. I remembered every time I looked at the calendar, though I hadn't marked it there. I thought about her when I saw a youtube video of a little girl possibly about the same age she would have been. I mourned every time I saw her little struggling brave apple tree in the yard. And sometimes I choked up for no reason at all.
Each of these times was like a sharp stab in the gut. Because in between...I kinda forgot. I was enjoying my newly recovered health. Celebrating the loss of 41 pounds since Sir Dex's birth. Enjoying my living children. Laughing at my ridiculous ducks. I also got a whole lot of school planning done, which is good, because we are due to start August 1st. (Yes, a Saturday. We're weird. Get used to it.)
I feel a little guilty for not mourning more, but then again I don't. I think of her and pray for her every single day. A full week doesn't ever go by without me missing her so terribly I tear up. I was absolutely useless on her birthday this year, so I guess being okay yesterday is....okay.
Yesterday was also the 1 year announcement of my pregnancy with Sir Dex here, who is doing his level best to shove both of his hands in his mouth at the same time while grinning for all he is worth.
I have a lot of conflicting emotions about all this. I'm feeling the tug to become introspective and melancholy all day.
I'm not going to, though. I've been through those emotions before and sifting them out again isn't going to do me any good right now. It's early morning and I have life to do, so I'm going to box them up (their box, in my head, is a dark opalescent rectangle with a pink ribbon, no bow) and push the box into the back of my head. I might need them later, and I guess that's okay, too.