It’s Tuesday. Kenley died on a Tuesday. She was born @ 10:32 pm on a Tuesday. I hate them. I’ve said Tuesdays are my least favorite, yet most favorite days. I love spending time with Shane and Landon on these days, but they just suck. It’s like a constant reminder of our one missing piece. But, I guess that’s going to be my life from now on, so I better get used to it.
Today we went to Hobby Lobby…
I already hate Hobby Lobby, but Landon wanted to go. When we walked in, we were treated by FALL DECOR. What the hell. It kind of hit me in the face like a brick wall? I mean I know that it’s July, and that August is right around the corner or whatever, but woah. I gathered myself and continued to walk with Landon toward the “toy” aisle, but there it was…
Nope. Not ready to see that shit just yet. I realized how incredibly hard seeing anything Christmas related is going to be for me. I don’t think I will be ok this holiday season.
This is a warning for all of my family/friends- I seriously cannot control how I feel about these things, so don’t expect too much from me this Holiday season.
Kenley was alive for Christmas last year. She got a stocking full of binkies, and a rattle. She was the talk of the get togethers. She was given many other gifts, too- Baby bath, wash cloths, bows…It’s going to be so hard to lead up to the Holidays, listening to the music she loved to listen to and danced around in my belly to. It’s going to be a lot harder than I think I realize right now.
We did a card exchange on the TCF boards last xmas and all the cards wished us well, and said how excited they were for us and Kenley. Fucking life. I just want to punch life in the dick.
How cruel. I just cannot get past that. How fucking cruel. I know no one decided to have her die on the day that she did, or whatever but god damn it. So close to Christmas? It’s going to be so hard for the rest of our lives.
Shane and I will always view Christmas with a “death lens”.
Even if I go on to get pregnant here in a few weeks, I just worry about things. I worry how I’m going to feel being pregnant, again, at christmas. With a new baby. Because mine died.
Fuck you, Hobby Lobby.