She's starting to smile now, and giggle. Her giggle is funny. It's sort of airy and then when something is really funny it cracks a high pitched hiccup sound that surprises her and makes her stop laughing. She grabs on now and cuddles up. I hold her. A lot. I put her down too. But I hold her. A lot. My favorite time is in the darkness. She cries for me and then eats. After her bottle she get so tired that she fusses quietly some. Her little arms and legs move and she pouts her bottom lip big. Rocking back and forth, the chair silent in the night I hum to her the song from "Three men and a baby".
Her little face always turns toward me in the darkness, her eyes glossy and sparkling. She stops fussing and her body softly relaxes and her eyes get heavy. Sometimes I hold her after she's fallen back to sleep even though I'm tired because the idea of putting her down is painful. Sometimes I hold her in the moonlight and cry because somethings are too beautiful to see and have and hold, and until you have something so invaluable, something you've prayed so hard for that your knees have brush burns, you can't possibly understand. It is so beautiful it hurts your soul.
Depression is a sneaky beast. Most of the month it lies quietly dormant and sends me images and thoughts of Gabbie and how all this time and love I give to the girls, but especially Evie are moments I'd have had with Gabbie too and I brush them aside. But realistically, and D reminds me on occasion, we probably wouldn't have Evie if Gabbie had stayed. How ridiculously unfair that one should be swapped for the other. During the month being busy with Evie and the girls I can put the thoughts away. However I've noticed that I don't often look forward to things, in fact I can't remember the last time I've looked forward to anything. My temper is often short. I find myself being snippy with the girls. The sad thing is I hear them mimic me sometimes to each other. I don't like it. The worst of it is the anxiety. I cannot ride as a passenger in a car. I can't breathe. I see pictures in my head, flashes of accidents. Those flashes flip on at home too. I see the girls tripping, or falling down the stairs. I warn then to be careful, to hold on to the railing, to hold hands in parking lots, and then when they do get hurt I get annoyed because they didn't listen to me. I don't care for this quick-to-snap self. Then pms makes the sadness so much harder to handle. I am weepy and volatile. My emotions are all over the place and the dreams are evil. My doctor is pretty sure that, although I can usually control the sadness, the anxiety is part of PPD.
This month not only am I getting my period but I'm returning to work. I'm not nervous about where the baby will be during the day, her babysitter is fantastic. I'm just sad that I have to leave her at all. I want to keep holding on to her, to not let go. What if school does what school always does and marks the year by the humdrum passing of each month? Before I know it she'll be a year and my littlest and last will be big. I need to hold on tighter.
