Oh the weather outside is frightful

The fire inside would be delightful if my three year old hadn't stuck something in the fireplace vent sometime within the last year which starts to smoke every time we turn the fireplace on.
I got my hair dyed and trimmed yesterday. I would post a picture but I am feeling extremely fat and gross today so it is not going to happen. While I was getting my hair done I had a very interesting conversation with my stylist, whom I have known for 5 years now. I told her about my PPD and all of its ugliness and she confessed that she too had experienced something similar in the year following the birth of her son, who is the same age as A. Even down to the same fixation with death. Interestingly enough, she still deals with those thoughts and feelings occasionally. Which was both a comfort and a little frightening.
It was nice to know that other people have thought the same things I have and felt the same way that I do. However, the fact that she still has these thoughts now troubles me greatly. One of my biggest fears is that my life will never get back to normal. That I will always measure everything by my own mortality. Granted, these thoughts are not as persistent as they were when this whole mess started in August. But they are still there.
There are days when I have come to accept the fact that eventually I will die. That I am getting older and that there will be a time when I will no longer exist. I remind myself on those days that I should take each day as a gift. Because that is exactly what it is.
Then there are the days when I mourn the idea that there are so many things I will never see to fruition. That humanity will grow and progress and the earth will spin for eternity and that my time here is small and limited. And those days make me sad and scared. I wish they would go away. I wish I could be like I was before and never think about these things. Even writing this is tough...I feel panic welling up within me and my heart is beating faster.
S and A are in the office playing a computer game together right now. S is instructing him on the finer points of moving his mouse around the screen and A is laughing. The dog is curled up on the couch next to me, warmed by my body heat and sleeping peacefully.
When I look outside, I see the wind blowing leaves off the tree in the backyard and rain is starting to patter the window. I am always amazed at how this tree drops its leaves and becomes completely bare in the winter. When it is cold outside it always seems like the cold will last forever. It is hard to remember the warmth of summer when the wind is whipping your hair around your face in icy blasts.
Sure enough, every spring little buds start to form on the barren limbs. Gradually, the days become warm and warmer still. The daffodils we planted outside start to bloom and preparations begin to celebrate a slew of family birthdays (mine, A's, and now W's). Eventually the tree is covered in beautiful green leaves.
Each season has its purpose. Without the winter rain plants would not have water to grow during the hotter months.

To every thing there is a season, and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal; a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh; a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together; a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose; a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew; a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate; a time of war, and a time of peace.

Ecclesiastes 3:1

I am waiting for my spring to come.