Getting better...but then there is this...

I think I may be on my way out of the postpartum thing.  Each day is a bit better, I feel a bit more productive, I feel stronger.  My job helps so much.  

The trouble is all of these dates are coming:

Sept. 14:  Lainey has been gone 10 months

Sept. 19, 2014:  1st home pregnancy test

Sept. 21, 2014:  23rd wedding anniversary

Sept. 23, 2014:  Dr's office, blood test, confirming pregnancy

Sept. 25, 2014:  First Ultra Sound of our sweet girl, confirming her outcome

Then the waiting.

October comes, along with that date:

October 26, 1993:  8 months pregnant with Ricky, Dr. Kay states, "At this time I feel as if the baby is dead". 

My Birthday, October 27, 1993:  I deliver our 6lb 3oz. son, still.  I hold him for only a brief moment and then he is gone.

October 30. 1993:  He is buried.

November 13, 2014:  My water breaks

November 14, 2014:  We welcome Lainey into our world at 12:41 am, she was born still.  At 9:30 that night I say my final goodbye.  It would be the last time I saw Lainey.

November 25, 2014:  We pick up Lainey from the funeral home and drive with her little closed casket to Maryland. 

Thanksgiving Day:  We take Lainey to her resting place where she is buried beside her big brother.

December 3 2014:  My due date

I've always been such a numbers person.  These dates just won't pass by unnoticed.  

I have such a firm testimony that God had greater plans for my children, and I've come to accept his will for them.  I can take comfort that they serve him in a higher capacity.  But if I were completely honest, sometimes those dates from 1993 get to me.  

My birthday:  the first birthday after Ricky died was awful, just awful (I'm afraid Thanksgiving will be much the same)  Each year I try to rise above it, some years I do, some years I don't.  Sometimes it's sparked by a conversation, or event.  Sometimes it's a quiet sorrow, other times it's a sorrow which cannot be hidden.   I just can't predict the grief.  

The anxiety about last Septembers dates have started, this year will be the worst September, because it's the year anniversary of finding out I was pregnant, it's the first ultra sound, it's the first doctors appointment.  I've stated multiple times that I get the plan and I do, but the grief takes over, sometimes I don't even recognize it right away.  

So, even though I'm getting better, there are many days ahead that will be difficult.  I'd only be kidding myself if I thought I'd be okay.  

You never forget the day your babies were born and you NEVER forget the day they die.