Then there are the special things. The things I fantasized about doing with Max: when I was pregnant with him, when he was a baby, after he died. Birthday parties, vacations, trips to Disneyland. They are dripping with intensity and joy for me. They are life affirming - exponentially increasing the gratitude I feel for their lives and my own: feelings that during the especially dark period of my life, when I felt no gratitude for my own life, I really couldn't have imagined ever feeling again.
Every birthday my living children celebrate feels like a gift. Every special outing like the best day of my life. I look forward to them the way I looked forward to things when I was a kid. And when plans get spoiled, it probably feels much more disappointing to me than it would to a non-bereaved parent.
For a while before we moved here, things felt very heavy for me again. I was having a really hard time seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. I felt thrown back into the darkness for many, many reasons.
These were the moments that kept me going: