There also is the loss of "living" I existed for 5 years I didn't live life not really. Living to me is being out in the world; creating memories and friendships, exploring who your are and what your about. I did none of those things. There were weeks when I wouldn't/couldn't leave the house, seeing no one except for LB(who was working full time and often in school full time) I was completely and utterly alone. Living in a cocoon of bad TV and audio books, nestled in bed drifting in and out of sleep: days, weeks, months and years pasted in that state. Despite that I managed to dig myself out of that hole, it was hard and painful, like nothing I've yet experienced outside of the depression. So now I mourn for those lost days, when I hold my baby and realize that time is a valuable commodity not to be wasted or squandered.
We have been busy out and about doing great fun adventures with our little man, and sometimes I just have to take a moment and cry. Cry because I am so thankful for what we are as a family, what I am capable of doing and being and thankful for how far I've come.