I think I’m getting closer to the point where I’m making peace with what happened to our family. It has been very gradual and it’s not like I’m over it (I will never be over it; I’m just learning to live with it). I still have moments of incredible anger and sadness, and I’m still prone to bursting into tears in the middle of the gym or grocery store, but these days, my thoughts about Jillian usually make me smile. I don’t dread going to appointments or even just out in public because of my fear that someone will ask how my baby is or whether or not I have kids. I know that those questions will probably always make me sad, but they’re not as overwhelming as they used to be.
I think I came to the realization that I’m making peace with Jillian’s premature birth and premature death when we passed a very pregnant woman on a walk this past weekend. My first thought when I saw her belly was jealousy at her ability to be that pregnant, but then I realized I’m actually the lucky one. I’m Jillian’s mom, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything.