ever after

i've wanted to post earlier.  my hands have been full.  Noah is the easy baby I always imagined him to be, but he is still a baby, and requires hands to hold him, change him, feed him, rock him, and hold him some more.  He has healed the wound a great deal.  It's a strange thing to say, and unless you've been through grief it may not make sense, but I don't feel ashamed of our story anymore.  Not that I felt shamed for anything that happened, but that, I guess a better word would be embarrassed.  It's not as embarrassing to say my daughter died, whilst holding my baby son in my arms.  The story is not as tragic.  It has a happy ending.  It is way, way better.