Harder than Friday by far.
This was the day that I was scheduled for my c-section with Grady. The day that, had he lived, he would have turned two.
This was also the day, two years ago, that I held him for the last time.
Kissed his sweet, soft, chubby cheek for the last time.
And told him goodbye.
I think it was harder this year because, in many ways, I don't feel validated in my grief anymore. I don't feel like I can really express my sadness over Grady. Even to my husband.
And for some crazy reason, every time I express grief or sadness, I immediately feel like I need to defend myself and proclaim my gratefulness for the blessing of my living children.
Joy and sorrow can co-exist. Grief and thankfulness can, too.