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I have all of these drafts that I have started, some are actually finished, some thick with anger, others dripping in disappointment, all on the same topic.

Rebecca.

I don’t know why I can’t bring myself to publish them.  Probably because I write them for myself in the moment and no one really need to read them.  Probably because this is a battle I mostly fight away from people.  They don’t ask because they don’t know what to say or they don’t understand enough about our situation.  Hell, most people I work with don’t even know about any of it.  But damn, it gets lonely when you are having a bad day sometimes.

I started raising a baby when she turned 6 weeks old.  Not by choice, by happenstance.  I raised that baby and tried to do the best for her every day.  A little over a year ago, as a 14 year old, she backed away from me and made poor choices.  Yesterday, at 15, she had a baby boy.  I knew it was coming, the announcement, but fuck it was a sucker punch.  Big time.  As luck would have it, I was standing in the wine aisle with my husband.  Our second stop after that was to actually pick up some pictures I was having printed, I finally felt the need to replace some of her pictures in the house.  I can’t even make this shit up.

Again, comes all the information.  Safe delivery, healthy Mom but baby is very small.  Too small for 36 weeks cooked.  Baby will remain in NICU for awhile.

I won’t go into the tiny details, even though that is what fills my mind sometimes, but ultimately it doesn’t matter.

How can I look at my time hop and see a happy Rebecca, next to me, at a baseball game, in the sweltering heat, while on vacation.  Just two short years ago everything was normal.  Had you told me that day what would change in two years, I would have never believed you.  It is a hard one to swallow, I won’t lie.

There isn’t much for me to do.  I go about my life, I process my emotions.  Sometimes I process them with alcohol, sometimes with a cookie, because drinking at work is frowned upon.  Sometimes I just sit and rock my little one because there isn’t anything more important to do than memorize that moment knowing life changes quickly.  And then I thank God for my little one because if I didn’t have her for these moments I don’t know how I would function.