Pushing through it.

After my mega-breakdown on Sunday afternoon, in which I cried, cried, sobbed, sniffled, whimpered, and sobbed some more, I fell into a deep, comatose sleep. I woke up hours later (or what felt like hours, anyway) to the feeling of tiny fingertips on my cheeks, my eyelids, my nose, my lips.

I dragged myself out of the sleep-zone and opened my eyes to find my beautiful little girl gazing at me. When our eyes met, her face lit up and she broke into a huge grin. “Mommy!” she exclaimed, and proceeded to lean in and give me a big kiss.

At that moment, I realized that no matter how much my situation sucks, no matter how bitter I am, no matter how angry or jaded or depressed, I am so, so blessed to have this amazing little angel in my life. To her, I am the world. She needs her mommy to be strong for her, and so that’s what I’m going to do.

It doesn’t mean I’m not pissed. It doesn’t mean I’m not frustrated beyond imagination. It doesn’t mean that I think I’ll ever have another baby (because truth be told, I don’t). But even if this is the end, I am lucky — INCREDIBLY lucky — to have this little girl in my life. She is my light, the one who saves me from drowning in my pain and anger and despair.

So for her, I’ll get through it.


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