oh, August...

Can August be the month of change for me?  Can it make me ready to return to work?  Can it bring a closing date on the house and provide us with new place to call home?  Can it bring more peace to me?

Gracie skipped her nap yesterday.  At bedtime she was a raging, crying debacle of red-eyed craziness.  To get her to sleep we turned the light off in our bedroom and I held her to me and rocked her softly off to sleep.  It reminded me of when she was baby and I’d feed her in the darkness, rocking her until she was back to sleep.  It reminded me of what I’m missing with her sister being gone.  It made me wistful for days gone (Gracie's not a baby anymore) and lonesome for what can’t be.  I stayed awake long after D was asleep.  His arm around me I held his hand in his slumber, listening to the sounds of nighttime.  Gracie was up a couple times, too tired to sleep apparently.  I spent much of the night hugging and comforting her, patting her gently back to sleep.  I can’t help but think how much more tired and drawn I’d be if I was kept awake by two small children.  I know now that I would not complain.  I’d willingly take exhaustion in hand and cuddle with it if it meant having Gabbie back.  But that cannot be.  When will I stop considering the bargains I’d have made if it would have allowed me to keep her?  I miss her. 

It’s nearly the month of August.  This point last year we were talking about getting ready to try to have another baby.  This point last year I was preparing myself to be pregnant again.  This point last year I was making plans and considering futures with a new tiny person in mind that would change the dynamic of our family in so many inconceivable ways.  It’s not fair how much the change that ended up being no change at all, was inconceivable and terrible and has now altered me in a way that I am still not familiar with.  How does one move past that?  How does one move past the devastation of cremating every dream and plan for the future you’ve had for 9 whole months?  Time?  Time is so painful.  Time and the universe continue without consideration, merciless baby-loss makers. 

                August is upon us.  August: the month one year ago that held the beginning of so much promise.  Can it bring just a little back to me?  Please.  Knowing that such deep expectations for the future began one year ago and now those promises are gone, wiped away leaving nothing but sad broken remembrances like a sand castle built too closely to the water, hurts me so deeply that I think I hate August.  And it didn’t even get here yet.  Redemption of August’s broken sunny promises would be bittersweet.  Please, August, be gentle with me.