Today, I am tired of being brave. I want to scream and rage and cower. I want to wallow in self-pity.
Today, I do not want to go to work and make decisions and solve problems. I want to spend the day curled up in a ball, hugging Kiersten's stuffed gharial and crying.
Today, I resent every intact family I see, with their healthy, happy children who give them joy. I want to switch places with them.
Today, I do not want to answer the co-worker who has cornered me in the ladies room, with the tears in her eyes, with an optimistic story about how grateful I am that my beautiful little girl didn't suffer when she died. I want to collapse into her arms and sob and tell her how sad I am.
Today, I want to look people straight in the eye, and answer the question, "How are you?" with the honest answer, "The most precious person in my world is gone and it hurts so much that I'm struggling to breathe."
Today, I want to cry and not have to fix my eye make-up afterward, so I don't look a wreck in my 3:00 meeting.
Today, I do not want to make small talk, cogent presentations or even sense in English. I want to babble like the village idiot and talk about my baby and how much I miss her.
Today, I do not want to "prop up" another living being. I want to be selfish and keep all of my energy for me. I want to blame everything and everyone I see for my pain.
Today, I want my sweet baby back.
Today, I will not get any of these things. But it doesn't stop me from wanting them.