As happy as Bristol makes me, I still feel like I am living in a bad dream. My life feels foggy, did all of this really happen? I still cannot believe it. I have been thinking about Kennedy so much these days. Every memory of her is a painful gift. I love to remember the sound of her screaming and crying at the pediatrician's office, how she looked with her thumb in her mouth, especially when she would smile with that thumb there, how she was turning into a beautiful little girl, wearing her tutu, playing with her hair that she just realized was there. All of these things are things that people seem to take for granted. No parent ever wants their child to throw a tantrum in Publix, I always dreaded that, now I would do anything to have her throwing her worst fit in there. As Bristol is growing, it is hard to not compare her to Kennedy. I guess having a second child makes you do that.
I will never wake up from this bad dream, this nightmare. My only reprieve is that I learn how to live with it. Some days I feel like I am coping so well, others not so well.