As time goes on, it seems more and more that this is the way it was always going to be and less like I should have a living baby. Like I've always been in this place, this parrallel universe where I'm this quiet person who'd much rather stay home than spend time in a crowd. That's patting herself on the back because yesterday she managed to go to the shopping centre for the first time since shortly after Matilda's death. This person that when a Mum with a pram goes past, swivels her head to see if the baby is a girl and how old it is.
For the most part, I'd say I'm doing better. But I have a pretty low bar for what better is these days. It's a day where I get something done (making my bed and cooking dinner qualifies as 'something') and then read a book quietly for the rest of the day. The other day, I saw a movie and there's a scene where she's driving along in the car singing loudly to whatever is on the radio, looking happy and I thought 'I can't imagine being that person again'. I can only hope that one day I'll make it to that place where I feel really, truly happy again. It seems like a very distant spot on the horizon currently.
Matilda - after 5 months, all I know is that I love you and I wish it had been different. I wish you were here. Please watch over us tomorrow.