Twenty-one

I glanced at the calendar today. The 13th.
Tonight, as I rocked my beautiful daughter to sleep, I closed my eyes and let my mind wander back.

21 months ago, at this hour, I had just said good-bye to my first-born. I may even have still been in the middle of it-in the NICU, with the dividers up, with all the nurses lined around the sides while my husband's hand rested on my shoulder and I sobbed, screaming, "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry" to my daughter, who was dying.

21 months ago, I would go back to my hospital room, bleeding, focusing renewed hope on my son, who would make it through the night only to be greeted with his mother agreeing to take off life support so he could be free to escape this Earth and be at peace.

Twenty-One. Unbelievable.