Today is a really hard day. Today is Quinn’s birthday. I have a 5 week old baby that wouldn’t be here if she was. That’s a really hard concept to grasp. It’s perfect and not fair all at the same time.

I read a quote today that said, “I’m not faking being sick. I’m faking being well.” A lot of days that is how I feel. I could talk to someone/people about it, but I don’t want to. No one understands like a mother. And the biggest problem is that this sort of pain will never go away. I will always think about what I lost: the sleepless nights, the bows and dresses, the pigtails and the pink and purple. All of it.

It’s not fair, but it’s the way it’s supposed to be.

Oz is awesome. He is a good baby. He grunts and yells. He is so small. I just love him to pieces. But he’s not my Quinn.

More about Oz in posts to come, but for now, I am just going to wallow in my sorrow for a while.