Last night, I spent 4 hours in the ER. Everything turned out fine, Sammy had just hurt her wrist. I was afraid she'd broken anything, so I took her, and the xrays came back negative. She still needed a splint, and it broke my heart to see her little arm get wrapped up, and then put in a little sling.

What really got me though was that yesterday had been the first time I'd stepped into that ER since That Day. I actually felt a little woozy when I stepped inside, and when they ushered me into the waiting area. It was just all too much. I couldn't help but think of That Day. Of the noise, the movement all around, the police walking up to me and telling me "he didn't make it." But, I just saw his brother - how did he not make it, and his brother did? I couldn't help thinking "why am I here?"

I can't believe it's already December. In 8 short weeks, we'll be marking the 3rd anniversary of Pablo's death. 3 years. I cannot believe it.

3 years ago, we were preparing for our first vacation to Dominican Republic. I look back fondly on that last vacation we took, and still hate that we never got the chance to go back as a family, with Baby Girl. Especially since it seems Baby Girl & I might be going in February. We'll see - but I know that's going to be on my mind, as I make my decision, and if I do go, all during the trip.

The other thing that is weighing heavily on my mind is the fact that we're now in the holiday season. Of course it's a difficult time for us, but I get the feeling that it'll be a little bit easier this year. I will still be upset at the fact that he's not with us, but maybe I'm just getting used to it.