...and yet it's still spinning
Dragging mysef through the motions of our day, trying not to weep again. The uncontrolled shuddering seems to have passed, so at least I only look half-mad, with my bloodshot eyes and wild hair. The kids are mercifully oblivious to my state of mind and want their breakfast, are excited about gymnastics class. They thought it was odd that I came in and woke them up twice in the night, but since they don't realize I was checking to reassure myself that they hadn't stopped breathing, it didn't worry them.
I hope my boss and his wife find it in them to get through this together. I hope they find a way not to blame themselves, because they shouldn't--they could not have known. Their younger son is old enough to feel the loss but not quite old enough to understand it, and I keep thinking of the hurt he will go through, and the hurt he will cause, when he asks, over and over, where his brother is and when he's coming back.
It seems deeply unimportant now, but my second beta was adequate. I would trade it in an instant if it could undo this horrible loss.