This whole week has been incredibly hard. I'm sitting here with a knot in my stomach, feeling more and more sick as time goes on.
My sister is coming tonight to stay for nearly a week. I'm so very much looking forward to having her and her son stay with us. Later this week, her husband and 2 of my brothers and their families are coming, as well. I'm overjoyed at the prospect of their arrival...
and I'm terrified.
Because I will show them Hazel's pictures for the first time.
Because I will cry when I see them.
Because I'm afraid I will be jealous of my sister's big, pregnant belly.
Because I know the only reason they are coming is because Hazel died and they want to mourn with us and comfort us.
I want to be able to:
Laugh some good, big belly laughs.
Enjoy their time with us.
I went to Target with Noah yesterday and could barely breath while walking past the infant/toddler clothes. I felt, for a moment, like I was going to hyperventilate and I basically talked myself down from a panic attack. I thought, "I am going to freak out and they are going to have to call my husband to come and get me!" and "I can NOT freak out, I have my son with me!" It worked, I guess, but I did cry my way through the rest of the store, trying not to let Noah think I had completely lost it.
If you are the praying sort and you are reading this, please pray that I can handle this without falling deeper into whatever hole it is I'm stuck in. I have moments everyday when I feel as if I'm going to lose control--moments when I still can't believe this is happening--has happened.