Anger is a short madness - Horace. Not when you've lost so much - Me.

As we get closer to the year anniversary of Ligaya’s birth and death, I find myself getting more anxious, more angry, more sad, more crazy, more everything.  It  ALL  sets me off.
 

All of the things.

 

From the STANK ASS person in Zumba class who smells like they’re suffering from a prolapsed bladder (change your damn workout clothes) to the ants who marched into our kitchen and into my baking cupboard (I HATE); from the 10 salespeople at my local Verizon store doing a circle jerk over their fantasy football picks instead of helping out customers (the woman in this video is not me…but oh so close: http://youtu.be/TYhYShM-vzo) to the people who talk and whisper and text during a movie (you pay like a million dollars for the experience and you’re not even paying attention?! Get the hell out of here before I punch you in the face) – no one is immune to my fury.

 I’ve tried my usual techniques to pull it together:

• Zumba: I find myself too distracted by the stink though. My neck grows tired from swiveling around to find the culprit/s.
• Meditation: does imagining a rain of fire crashing down on the Verizon store count?
• $15 Chinese reflexology massages: these are really hit or miss. I've yet to find someone who either: A) doesn't go out of their way to inflict as much pain as possible or B) applies more pressure than the rarest of butterflies delicately sunning itself on an upturned dew-dropped leaf.
• Stuffing my face: let's not even talk about the frequency and randommness of one's bowel movements after their gallbladder is taken out. I like to roll the dice every now and then, but if I have to make some sort of appearance in public that day, eating is a hard bet to place and the odds aren't often in my favor.

It's just a really difficult time, and so far, I haven't made much progress other than to drop a few pounds (thanks to not eating on account of the ass clenching terror of suddenly having to use a bathroom outside the comfort of my own home).
 

My brothers and sisters in loss have all told me that the first birthday is the hardest. Some have said that the actual day of is not as bad as the days leading up to it. Others have said it’s far worse than they could have possibly imagined. Damn. We’re not there yet, but we’re close.

The thing is, how do you celebrate something like that? How do I muster up the strength and courage to call up my favorite bakery and ask them to do a birthday cake for our girl who isn’t here to blow out the candles? I admire the moms who can. At this moment, I don't think I'm able. We'll see.

We do plan on honoring Ligaya by taking part in the OC Walk to Remember on October 5^th. October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. I never even knew this existed until it happened to us. Please check out this website and this wonderful organization that recognizes the importance of honoring babies who were here, but couldn’t stay. How I wish she could have. How I wish all of them could have. 

http://www.ocwalktoremember.org/2013-walk

Walking for this event will be hard and sad and so painful, but we do it for Ligaya.  We do it for all the babies who never got the chance to take their steps in this great big world. They were here. They existed. They were real. And they were people, too.

 

Love you Little Bird - we're almost there now.

Love, Light, and Ligaya - CS <3 font="">