You've had a bad day and felt like a sandwich.

Inside my mind I had a bad day, a mental pity party that was like a broken record playing over and over.

I woke up and wanted to cry and cry and cry. I went into the bathroom and barely felt the energy to lift my arms. I had to get ready, but I didn't want to. I wanted to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over my head, and pretend to have a stomach ache. Although I know I can talk to Josh about how I feel, I didn't feel like sharing my depressed thoughts. I felt like an angry spider monkey jumped on my back and latched on tight, whispering mean, cranky and breaking things into my ear. Go choke on a banana you evil monkey.

But I got dressed. Didn't shower, but at least I put on clean clothes.

Josh and I went to church together for the first time in a long time. It was nice. It was difficult.
During the service I felt angry. Why did God take my baby? I would never wish this upon any one, but I almost felt like I would to get my baby back. But those feelings do no good. I cannot trade or barter my baby back. Anger is a wasted emotion. But that doesn't stop me from being angry now does it?

Within my fog of a pity party I realized I have lost both of my parents and my child. I have death on both sides of me, top and bottom. I am a Georgie grief sandwich. Again...pity. party.

A bright spot was a wonderful lunch with wonderful people. A happy moment.
Yesterday I kissed a babies head, and tickled a foot. Today I did it again. It felt nice.

I did get angry with a certain person who shall remain nameless. It angered me to the point of yelling (not at the person but at my poor husband about it), it was the first time that I felt my grip on my emotions slip.

People are who they are, and I am in no position to judge. But God help me I can't stress enough to everyone to love and cherish their children. Sometimes you don't feel like it. Put that aside and show your love. No one is perfect, no parent is perfect. Love is perfect.

The end.