Two months... what?

   Wow, I have been at this for two months, now!  I'm getting faster all the time, and running for longer and longer stretches.  I started a new walking program with my insurer, and with it I received a pedometer and log my steps online.  I am surprised that even on a day when I'm fairly active, I am still only walking about 5,000 steps (not including my running); so I'm going to try to work on getting in more walking when I can, as the healthiest recommendation is 10,000 steps per day.  I am NOT expecting to regularly hit 10,000 per day, but I know I could do more than I currently am.   
   For a few weeks now, I've been trying to figure out a way to pick up the pace with my running.  Who knew all it would take was for a bat to come flapping around my head?  This morning I was near the end of my run, and I didn't realize I had a good sprint in me at that point; but I most certainly did.  I just kept running at the same pace when it swooped behind me; but, when it swooped for the second time in front of me, this white girl was like The Flash.  I let out a little shriek (in spite of myself), and my little feet just moved me as fast as they could.  Holy smokes... I didn't realize I could run that fast uphill.  Gotta love that adrenalin.  Really, I do appreciate it, though I'll be extremely happy never to have any more up-close and personal dealings with a flying mammal.
   Outside of that, I've been a busy bee... trying to get as much as I can done to get my house in order.  I am still having a problem with staying focused on one project at a time.  That must make my husband crazy, but he does a good job of not letting it show.  Perhaps, I have this problem of focus because I get bored easily... I don't really know, to be honest.  Of course, I do have a three-year-old, so I guess that may factor into lack of ability to focus, too.  Really, though I have to stop this because it makes me crazy to look around and see a million half-done things begging for my attention... blech.
   Today, I am trying to go easy on myself, especially since a few hours ago.  I logged on to Facebook and one of my friends from college posted pics of her beautifully decorated nursery, ready now for the arrival of their newest family member -- a baby girl.  She did such a beautiful job, and I'm so happy for her and her husband and son.  Though I do truly rejoice and celebrate in her joy and that of other friends who are expecting or just brought new babies home, damn if it doesn't remind me so acutely of my loss earlier this year.  I suppose that's natural, and I guess I am just as troubled by the fact that I am still so troubled.  I keep thinking I will round a corner, and sometimes I think I have; but then I get hit in the face by grief, and I wonder if I will ever really feel right again.  I cried for such a long time today... not just tears-streaming-down cry but wailing-out-loud-and-rocking-on-the-floor cry... dog-coming-over-to-comfort-me cry... asking God-out-loud-to-help-me cry.  Ugh... I felt a bit better after that release and decided to read The Velveteen Rabbit -- which for some reason I knew was what I HAD TO read -- to my daughter before nap time.  And I took a nap, too, which helped my brain put together some pieces.  I guess I've been believing for some time that just because I was "only" 2 and 1/2 months along, I should be able to "get over" this more easily.  Well, like the Velveteen Rabbit, we are only real when we are loved.  I loved that little baby I never got to know, and he or she was as real to me as the daughter laying on my couch.  In the wise words of the Skin Horse, "Once you are Real you can't become unreal again.  It lasts for always."     
   I suppose all I can do is put one foot in front of the other -- as I always do -- and realize this low shall also pass.