One year ago I had an infant. Sleep and losing baby weight were my biggest problems. They seem so stupid to me now. Now I’m spending my time cleaning and organizing in my attempt to start a new life.

My husband’s life has been reduced to boxes of his stuff we want to keep, a death certificate, an autopsy report, and intangible memories that still feel painful. Incomplete. Not quite real yet, even almost two months out.

A troubling feeling for me is to know and feel like I will never be the same person again. I am mourning not just Kenneth, but who I was. She is gone. And I don’t know who she will be tomorrow. She’s still a work in progress. It’s an unsettling feeling, especially when you thought you had everything on autopilot.

I realized nothing is real. It’s all just your interpretation.

Death takes away your sense of security. It leaves unanswered questions and unresolved feelings and makes you vulnerable to the world.

I try not to wish for my life before 4/27. I try to focus on my choices that will shape all of my tomorrows, but it’s hard living in your own daily nightmare that most people won’t understand.

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