It still hurts

You know, it still hurts.  All these years later, nearly five in fact, it still hurts.  Our computer has a photoviewer that randomly cycles through all of our pictures.  I really like it.  I see our pictures all the time.  This one popped up today.

Naomi was just shy of two months old here and I was madly in love with her pretty darn happy.  I won't say blissfully happy, because as I have written before I had concerns about Naomi from the very begining and we'd already been through a horrendous nursing strike so I was a little shellshocked and scared, but not so much that I couldn't keep it all tucked away in a little compartment of my mind so that I could just revel in her most of the time.  Plus, there was still nothing definite.  So avoidance was still a possibility.  I remember taking this picture.  I took a whole series of probably 15 or 20.  I just could not get enough of her cuteness.  I was overwhelmed by it.  I paused to attack her with kisses and snuggles while I was taking the pictures.  This one was taken post kiss attack.

Most of the time when the next picture pops up I just enjoy it.  Sometimes I experience the new picture like a stab wound.  That is how this one was.  It's random.  On another day this picture might not do that.  Today it made me wish things had turned out differently for me and Naomi.  That she was a typically developing girl "helping" me with her baby sister, playing, talking, running, deciding what she wants to be for Halloween.  It's all very hard.  Time is just going by so quickly sometimes it feels like it's running out on us.  I miss her already.  It's sad.  There are no do-overs.  It's not like next time she might be healthy and we might be spared all the grief and anguish.  There's just this time.

Naomi was just back from horseback riding here.  She loves it.  Laughs and acts silly the whole time.  Cute.