We have a ten-week old. It's still hard to believe.
I wake up, and every day, he's there. Awake. Smiling. Crying. Breathing.
Seeing him grow up so quickly is nothing short of amazing. Not to say that being a parent has been a cakewalk - there have been plenty of difficult, frustrating, exhausting moments already. But seeing him get to know himself more and more day by day, becoming aware of his own body, his home, his parents... all so quickly... brings a joy and wonder that I hadn't felt in life before. He has the amazing super-power of being able to warm my heart with just a quick, beaming smile.
I am truly incredibly happy to have the chance to parent William. Incredibly happy.
Happy being the opposite of sad. Right?
We tend to think of these sorts of emotions as being all-or-nothing. You are happy, or you are sad. There is no Sad-Happy. At least, from what I remember from elementary school.
And yet, for as much as I feel happier than ever, there are many conflicting feelings of sadness. These are the wonderful moments we should have had with our daughter too. This is how it should have been, back in February 2014, rather than wondering how to cope without her.
I suspect that this sadness isn't going to go anywhere. We will probably always wonder about her firsts through her brother's firsts.
I don't see that as a negative - Anya is not a part of my life that I will ever want to put behind me. Her death is not an event I want to get over. I want to keep wondering, and imagining, and being sad about her loss, because it is an affirmation that she was here, and she mattered, and she had an impact. And that makes me happy. Happy-Sad, if you will.