Another year

I woke up this morning feeling ok.  It hadn't quite dawned on me yet that it's NYE.  Despite having a good year, and looking forward to another good year, NYE has always been a little sad for me.  It always seems that no matter how good the year was, there is something I am letting go of that I don't want to.  Even though in reality, tomorrow is just another day, in my mind a big heavy concrete door comes crashing down, closing off the end of the year from future time.  If I lost something two months ago, it feels even more significant to leave it behind and move on to the new year.

My friend posted an old facebook update, the NYE before she lost her baby, which would be just a month before we lost Kayla.  There is just something so heartbreaking about reading something from the past, that was so full of joy and hope, and knowing that it didn't turn out that way.  Three years ago I was pregnant with Kayla, looking forward to the year turning to 2013, the year I would finally have my baby and become a mom.  I'm so brokenhearted for mine and her past self, because we were all smiles, when little did we know, what awaited us.

Two years ago I posted a quote that said something like, as we start the new year, I shouldn't look at it as more time since I've seen you, but coming closer to the time when I will see you again.  I like that quote, but it's easier said than done.  It's been 2 years, 9 months, and 5 days since I last held Kayla.  I hope to be on this earth for another 40-45 years or so.  That's a long time to wait to see her again, so it definitely does feel like we're moving further and further from her, instead of toward her.  And thinking of seeing her again just tears my heart in two, because seeing my angel in heaven means leaving my angel on earth.

I wondered if I was alone in my mixed feelings of today.  Was I the only weird one who felt the weight of that huge door crashing down on 2015, and putting another year between me and my baby?  So I scoured pinterest and Still Standing magazine, but couldn't find any quotes that worked.  Then I read a post from Angela Miller, and as always, she did not dissapoint.  I changed the sex of the baby to fit my life, but here is her poem, which perfectly reflects how I feel about the new year.

A new year
used to be
hope for a chance
to make all that was wrong,
right.

But what is
a new year
when none of the wrongness
of losing you
can be made right?
. . .
What is new about a year
when the one thing
I wish to change,
the one thing
I’d give my life
to change,
cannot be changed,
or undone,
no matter how
many New Year’s resolutions
are thrown its way?
. . .
I cannot say
‘Happy New Year’
anymore.
It is simply one more
painful reminder
that I could do without,
one more slap in the face,
that it’s been another
three hundred and sixty five days
of “living” without you.

Another year
of trying to survive
the endless minutes,
hours,
days,
months,
years,
without you.

Another year
of battling the heartless
cliches thrown my way.

Another year
of listening
to people’s bullshit
about “time healing all wounds,”
and “God needing another angel
so he picked you”–
. . .
Another year
of people ignoring
your very existence
on this earth,

Another year
of learning how to be
the best parent,
the best mother,
to you,
my oldest daughter
who never grows older.
. . .
Yes, a new year is
another blank book
of pioneering–
of still mothering you,
my dead child,
the best way I know how.
. . .