Today while grocery shopping I heard someone call out "Brenna!" and my heart stopped beating. I looked around and saw a girl- not much older than my son. I looked at her, but I didn't see her. I couldn't tell you what she looked like. I didn't want to see her. I knew one day it would happen. One day I would meet someone who shared her name. I just didn't expect it to be at the grocery store. My son was with me, and he heard it too. He didn't say anything, but I could tell by the look on his face he heard it too. I wish I could go back and think of something wonderful to say. But I didn't, and I could kick myself. It was my job to comfort him, and I was too wrapped up in my own feelings to have time for his and that makes me feel awful.
As if I didn't feel awful enough.
I think it's the holidays, but these days seem to be harder and harder. I remember last Christmas being so excited that we would have a new baby in the family next year. We were all excited.
We put our tree up, and I am going to Bronner's (Christmas Wonderland!) and get an ornament with her name on it. I'd like to have something I can put up each year.
I don't know... it's just so hard. This used to be my favorite time of year, but all I can do lately is think of what was happening this time last year. Finding out I was pregnant. Hearing the heartbeat. Seeing the baby for the first time. It all happened this month. It seems like a lifetime ago. I was such a different person then.
I'm such a different person now.
I think a lot about having another baby. The problem is, I don't think it will make me miss her any less. It won't fill the hole in my heart. So now I think, what's the point?