Waiting for the Other Shoe to Drop

I have had four good days.  I am trying really hard to enjoy them, but I can't help but brace myself for what's to come.  I don't want to get too comfortable with these feelings, as I know a bad day can and will come again. 

But I do take some measure of comfort in how I feel today.  

I still think about her every minute-and I feel like I need to say that anytime I am feeling better.  Even though the dark days are horrible, they are also what connects me to Julia.  The challenge now is to find a connection to her on the good days.  I don't want my sadness to be wrapped up in her life.  I want all things good to remind me of her. I want to look at a baby on the street and be able to smile and think of my beautiful baby-but I am not there yet.  A good day is still fraught with land mines.  That infant carrier I passed on the way home from the gym still took my breath away.  I still counted the pregnant women on the train (4 today) and thought of what should have been.

I have stopped reliving the night of her birth in my head.  It doesn't come to me in searing flashes anymore.  But I struggle to remember all the details.  I don't want to forget a minute of that night because it is the only night I had when my daughter was alive.  At the same time, I wake up every day wishing it was all a bad dream.  The contradictions of my feelings overwhelm me.