So, on her three week a versery, Veronica got to go down to the doctors.

She is growing, and inch and a half longer..and she’s heavier. Up from 8 lbs 10 to 9 lbs 1.5

That’s good. I guess she’s thriving.

But there was a huge page of questions for me. Am I drinking or taking drugs? Do I leave this child unattended on high surfaces? Do I get adequate explanation on how to use the medications that were prescribed to me?

NO to all.

And then:

Are you feeling blue?

Feeling? Blue?

Is blue the color you see when you are trapped inside the cylinder of a tornado? Red, gray, black, maybe. No, not feeling blue.

But yesterday, she was screaming for a bit, so I decided if she was going to scream I might as well let her scream to some fun music. I put on some sing-along 80s music and held her close while I danced and sang.

RIght when it came to the part where I could sing along, I was busting out with the chorus and my voice disappeared. It was the fun part.

I hadn’t had a feeling a fun since…well at least since Veronica had been born.

So that thought required a certain amount of tears, which certainly have been present since V has been born.

Then it made me feel mad, because, dammit, I am going to find a way back to, a way back to happy…if it kills me.

And i realized that this state of affairs could be part of why I’m having so much trouble feeling optimistic. So I guess I can remember that I should not forget to get happy at least a little bit every day, until it comes back naturally.

I think it will.