I have only dreamed once of Abigail. I don't have any birthday rituals, or do anything to set aside and remember her on certain days. It's only been just shy of two months, and yet, I can't even imagine what it might be like to do so for the rest of my life. It feels like such a long time to be without her, to wait to meet her. I'm sure there will be some sort of ritual, but I just can't imagine it now.
However, while we are on this topic. For the first time today, for the first time in those two months I have allowed myself to dream again. Oh I've told Gary that perhaps beginning of next year we will want to try again for a baby, but we've not dreamed about it. It's too frightening in a sense. Trying to picture life, let alone dream in the wake of a lost job, and a lost baby is difficult at best, futile at worst. But this week Gary accepted a job offer, we flew to back down to South Florida, and today we found a house. It's a nice house, an incredibly nice house. It's a house that I think our family could grow in. It's a house that we could have laughter and fun times again in. It's house that the owner might want to sell next year, and a house that I think I would love to have. I today caught myself dreaming about that possibility. Of dreaming about how I would like to set up the rooms (I wanted a double set of bunkbeds in the one room). I caught myself wondering who else will be born into our family and how our life might look here in this place. I caught myself window shopping for furniture and storage solutions online. And for the first time, I realized though it might be really small steps. Really slow steps. It might be nigh unnoticeable to everyone else, but I am healing. This season will not last forever, joy cometh in the morning.