The Second Step

When I think about marking time without Leila, my mind always goes "a week, a month, my due date, a year, two years," and so on.

Today is a month.

The second step.

It's so hard to explain how I'm feeling, a month away from the greatest loss of my life.

Mostly, I'm fine. I don't even feel sad.

I feel changed.

The person I was before May 21st is gone forever.

But I'm slowly fitting into the new role.

I'm not as fun to be around. But my friends are understanding.

I wish I never had to leave the house again. As "okay" as I feel, it's not easy to put on a happy face and go out into the world.

Andrew's not so understanding about that.

Somehow, when thinking about these steps, the second and third always seemed like the biggest hurtles. When losing Leila will seem the most real.

What does it say about me, that I'm okay now, already? That I didn't really care? That God is carrying me through this? That I'm just numbed, and the worst is still to come?

Because I read the blogs of others in this horrible situation, and they seem to be suffering for months after losing their babies.

Maybe the second step isn't about sadness - it's about learning to be a new person.