I've had an extremely busy couple of days. Too much to really feel anything, but now that it's calming, it's all crowding around in my head.
Yesterday we went to help a friend move in to her new house. She works with my husband, and she invited another coworker who brought her daughter. Her daughter Cora.
Matt had the gracious foresight to warn me, so meeting her wasn't too bad. And she's 12, nowhere near my Cora's would-be age. No, the hard part was hearing Erin and Patrick running around yelling to her, coming back and telling me how much fun they were having with her, how much they liked Cora. I miss having that name used like that in my house. It's weird to say I "miss" it too, because I never got to experience it in the first place, but there isn't really a word for how I feel about it. I hate that Cora is more of an abstract concept than an actual person in my home.
And today is an anniversary of my greatest regret, possibly. I was thrown a small baby shower by 3 of my friends, it was just the four of us, but it was nice. Someone asked me how I was feeling, and I said "I almost don't care about the baby anymore, I just don't want to pregnant and sick anymore."
Cora died the next night.