They say that grieving is a process, and I believe them. I wonder if people wonder if they ever reach a place where they bottom out; where there are finally no longer any tears left to cry.
More wrenching news today, and I don't mean to, but it just leaks out: How long, Abba? Does it never end?
That's what I cried out in labor: Abba; Daddy. It helped.
(But I'm sure the nurses thought I was nuts.)
In the meantime, I am blessed with chunky thighs, monkey socks, and a sweet face that beams at me every day. And that is surely something.
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