There was not much good about today.

The car failed inspection. Again. So we continue to drive it on expired plates and wait for the sensors to reset. And hope I don't get pulled over because they could (and would, because that is our luck) impound the stupid thing.

I had to turn Sophia's car seat into a booster seat. Which took a ridiculous long time. And I cried while I took it apart. And I cried when I buckled her into it. It feels like I'm not keeping her safe anymore.

There is other stuff. So much more. All I wanted to do today was stay in bed and sleep and cry and pretend that I don't have responsibilities.

Today I cried because Sophia doesn't have a sister to play Barbies with. I have to be her sister because her sister died.

I never (never ever) thought I would be the mom to an only child. Even though I am the mommy of 2 perfect girls, Sophia is an only child. I don't know if she always will be, but it's hard to think that she might.

I'm on Google, looking for pictures to use as inspiration for Sophia's birthday cake (I know what I want it to look like, but I have to see what it would look like..) and all I can think is, "Charlotte's 5th birthday.. Charlotte's 5th birthday.." It's not fair to my amazing, brilliant, fun, sparkly, sassy, perfect, almost-4-year old. It's not fair to anyone. It's just plain not fair.

I have been thinking about this post for several days. But for several days, I have been too sick to even sit up long enough to type, let alone put myself through this. I don't want to think about it. I don't want to share it (even with the 3 people who *might* read this.) I still have this attitude that She Was Mine. I don't want to share her, still.

So for 4 days now, I've known I would have to let this out. I've known that eventually, I would let this slip. But I figured that I would wait until the details were foggy and it could be a few short sentences. Like I always do. Then I read this http://www.joyshope.com/2008/10/whats-in-name.html and I was/am ready. Kind of.

It's funny, the things you stumble on. I was on Pinterest and I clicked on a link to a tutorial of a crinkle toy. You know, the little tag toys/rags for babies that crinkle and make babies smile. And it was a cute blog, and I just happened to look at the title bar and see "Joy's Story."And I knew what her story was. I've read enough blogs to know. So I read it. I read every word of her story, because she is someone's daughter, and somewhere, maybe, she's Charlotte's friend.

But really, my story this week is short and simple and probably silly.

We were at a local photography studio this week, getting Sophia and her cousin's pictures taken with her Gramma and Papa. While we were waiting for our photographer, a family was leaving the studio. Mom, Dad, big sister, little sister. Big sister hung back a little, looking at the Christmas decorations, or talking to the girls.. I was distracted. Her dad said, "Come on, Charlotte." Jolt number one.

A few minutes later, we were called back to the studio. The girls were positioned on the couch, and silliness ensued. Trying to get 3 girls (age almost 4, 2, and 4 months) to both look at the camera and smile at the same time? These people are good. In the studio next to us, a little girl, maybe 4 or 5, was having her holiday pictures taken. The studios are really just one big, open room. So really, in the same room as us, the other photographer was saying, "Smile, Charlotte! Where's Charlotte? Good job, Charlotte!" Over and over, for 10 minutes. I was trying to concentrate on my own girl and her cousins. (For the record, this was the first time since the womb that Sophia has willingly posed for pictures! She was amazing!) But come on. Two little girls in less than 10 minutes named Charlotte? Are you kidding me?

So there it is. My horror story of the week. Thrown in alongside the holiday stress, the money woes we're all feeling, the craptastic weather, my upset tummy. And the fact that her 5th birthday is in 2 months. This is our 5th Christmas Without Her. The fifth time we've not been able to watch her open presents. The fifth Christmas that all I can do is hang a couple of special ornaments for her. That's all I have. I don't get to buy Christmas jammies for my two girls. I don't get to fill her little pink stocking. But everywhere around me, people are shouting her name.

I feel like I could spend most of my time being angry. That is something I've refused to do from day one. Even with our trail of disasters. My anger wont help. It wont bring our daughter back. It wouldn't fix our leaking house. It wouldn't have reversed my husband's cancer. And it wont help now. With all of the unknowns we are staring straight at. With any of the things that fate, or the universe, or God, or whatever, has taken out of our hands.

(As I am typing this, Sophia is watching Nick Jr. The little in-between shows section where a mom or dad reads to their kid. This mom was reading a book to her daughter, you guessed it, Charlotte. Seriously!?!)

Some people will tell me that maybe she's trying to say hello. Maybe this is all some sort of sign. But I can't feel her. I can't hear her voice. I can't see her face. I can only close my eyes and remember how soft her skin was. The way she smelled. The shape of her perfect red lips. And the silent house we went home to. The empty pink room. The pink frilly dress in the closet. Somewhere in all of this chaos, I will learn to survive this. Every day, I have to survive this. I have taken 3 words with me on this journey. "Believe" "Hope" and "Joy." For some reason, I was able to feel meaning in all of these. Reading that blog tonight really slapped me in the face. I need to remember my words. I think these are the things that might help me bury my anger and uncertainty. I will close my eyes tonight and I will pray, and I will hope that heaven isn't as far away as it seems. For all we know, heaven could be right next to us, waiting for us to notice it. I need to stop listening to the shouting and start listening for her voice again.

We cling to the HOPE of Heaven.

I had a dream last night that I was in Chicago and I was trying to take pictures of a rainbow with a disposable camera. Very strange. But the rainbows were everywhere. They were huge and they were vivid and I couldn't get a single one captured on my little wind up camera.

In other news.. I have a little jewelry box in my closet that my friend gave me when I was Maid of Honor at her wedding. Most of what is in it is Laura's stuff. A set of amethyst earrings and necklace in yellow gold, some Tinkerbell earrings.. But today I re-found my two sterling silver rings that I've had for about 10 years. One is an amethyst and the other is a garnet. Purple was always my favorite color, and garnet has always been my favorite semi-precious stone. So how odd is it that my 2 girls' birthstones are amethyst and garnet? And does this mean we wont have any more kids? Because I only have these two rings? Yes, I wonder and even believe stupid things like that. Sue me.

For all of October, I ignored this blog.

I had a lot to say, but I didn't say it.

October 15 we did the Walk to Remember (although to be honest, we didn't walk. We hung out and waited for the walk to be over so we could release balloons and go home.)

The other day, Sophia saw a balloon tied to a real estate sign. She said, "That balloon is floating up to Jesus." I told her that we let the balloons go up to the babies who live in heaven with Jesus.

This is Sophia with Charlotte's balloon.

She was playing with her grandpa and another balloon when Charlotte's name was read. I let go of the balloon. A few minutes later she asked where her sister's balloon was, and I told her I let it go. She cried. Mostly because I didn't let her let it go. I wonder how many years it will be before she understands any of this.