12:22 am - I sat up in bed, startled by a noise outside. I grabbed my cellphone to see what time it was and under the time, in what felt like a neon sign, I saw the word, June. In years past, this meant summer vacations, hot days, children running and playing, and so much fun. This morning the word sent me into tears. I just grabbed my pillow and hugged it. I realized that it is June 1, two days until Nora's tenth birthday.
June is forever tainted for me. June will never be the same. After two fall babies, I was finally going to have a summer baby. I was so excited. Nora died June 3. I was in a coma from the moment I pushed her out until June 11, in recovery another week. On June 18, I was able to meet my daughter for the first time in the funeral home. On June 19, we buried Nora. On June 21, her original due date, we were picking out her headstone.
June is a month that is so blurred, so confusing. June's memories and emotions...all blurred.
I miss Nora.
