Starry Nights

I wonder how much of my depression is because I lost Isabelle, and how much is because I had Isabelle.
I remember when I had Abbey, it was months before I fell apart. And I only recognized my PPD in hindsight. Duffy kept telling me about it, but I just thought he was being an ass. Now I can admit that what he was saying was real. So what would my grief be like if Izzy was 1 when she died? Is this one or the other, or some horrendous combination of the two.
I find myself wondering about having more children, and how much I weigh, and fitting back into my clothes, and thinking that I'm way behind schedule. Then I remember that Isabelle would only be 8 months old. Only 8 months old.
If she was here, I wouldn't have even entertained the idea of having another baby for about another year. I would still be justifying my larger sizes by saying, "She's not even a year yet, I should still be carrying extra weight."
Duffy would stand next to me watching her sleep and remind me that he's willing to have 50 more, and I would give him my nastiest look and remind him that he doesn't have to do the heavy lifting in this scenario. I would be enjoying all the firsts, and trying to figure out how to keep everything together. So what's my hurry?
Is it because I'm trying to make everything the way it was before, to get back to normal? As if that's possible. Am I trying to forget her and move on without her? Am I looking to replace her? Do I feel rushed to do everything in this moment because now I know how precious and short life is? Do I want to do it now before it's too late?
I don't know. I wish I could explain why I'm thinking the way I am. Maybe I wouldn't be so confused and floundering around.
I think about Isabelle all the time. I don't feel like I'm doing enough for her. I don't think I'm feeling enough for her. I think I really suck at this grief thing. I don't visit her as often as I think I should. I cannot bring myself to use the word grave, so I say I'm going to visit her and that's wrong, because that's not her, she's not there. I promised I would talk to her every morning and every night, but I forget. Sometimes I forget to check her room. Sometimes I think that people look at me and think that I'm holding the blood drive or promoting the tee-shirts for the wrong reasons. Sometimes I think that they think I'm using her death as an excuse. Sometimes I think too damn much.
The only time I really feel connected to Isabelle, and I know that she can see me and hear me, and I know that Heaven is there, is at night when there are no clouds and I can see the stars. It's never the same star, it's never in a particular constellation, but when I look up, I see it. Isabelle, twinkling at me, I feel her. It's like a hug and I feel her happiness and love. It is one of the few things that keeps me sane and safe. If not for that connection, I think I would be lost.