Drained. I feel so drained. My heart is full of love and joy and sadness at the same time, but I’m physically drained. We buried my mother yesterday. The past month has been a whirlwind of sleepless nights and roadtrips up north while my mother was dying in the hospital, for her funeral, for her burial, and we have to go back soon to help dad settle things. So many hugs and handshakes. I always come back home smelling of perfumes and incense. It’s the kind of tired where lifting your arms up to wash your hair feels excruciating. Sometimes, when I get the chance to sleep more than 2 hours in a row, I can’t sleep. I just lie awake in bed, thinking about my mother. I wish I was thinking about good memories and reminiscing, but instead when I close my eyes I keep re-entering the hospital room where my mother was lying in her death bed, stiff and cold, her mouth open wide. It hasn’t been easy with a newborn and an open incision traveling┬áback and forth to Bathurst and Tracadie, spending time in a hospital, and sleeping in beds that weren’t ours. I wouldn’t be this ok without my amazing mother in law and wonderful husband.

Mr. JJ has started smiling more and more, and I’m so in love with him. I still can’t believe I get to be his mother. I’m glad that my mom got to finally be a grandmother, even if it was only for the last 6 weeks of her life. If my son wasn’t born 5 weeks early, my mom wouldn’t have gotten to know him. I still believe that everything happens for a reason.