Is it the medicine I took for my pulled muscle? Or is it the knowledge that tomorrow is the 4 year anniversary of the day my daughter died? I feel numb. I feel hollow and weak. I cannot concentrate on anything.

Four years ago today I was completely clueless. I didn't know that babies could die before they even had a chance to take a breath. That my body was not a safe place for my daughter. That by the next day, I would be in the hospital, numb with shock. Being pumped full of drugs that would help me to deliver my baby, whose eyes I would never see, whose cry I would never hear. Four years ago today, I had a vision of my future that will never come true. Of children running around outside. My children, happy and unaware of loss. I have no doubt that I will see my Sophia running and happy for many years. But someday she will learn that she has a sister. That what mommy has told her is true. How is that fair? How will we explain to her that her big sister isn't here to play with her, to protect her.

Four years ago today my world still made sense. Since then, not much does.