It's been 33 days since we said goodbye to Gabriel. Several times a day, I place my hands in the same position they were when holding him and I can feel him. I can remember exactly what it felt like to hold him. I hope that never goes away. I am so, so sad and so tired of being sad. I'm tired of being pissed. I'm just tired. I'm going to a M.E.N.D. Support group on Thursday. I'm looking forward to it. I need to feel like I belong. I hope I'll find acceptance there. If I didn't have Noah, I'm confident that I would not leave the house, maybe not even get out of bed some days. He needs me though and I need him. I've had to make deliberate decisions to keep going for him. Although, I'm tired, I'm thankful he is keeping me moving. One of the hardest parts of all this, is that some days really are good. An entire day of good and then out of what seems nowhere, I'm back in this painful, exhausting pit. It feels like it's been 33 weeks or 33 months, not 33 days.
