Does it get easier?

Sort of.

On Monday, I wasn't sure I was going to live. Those of you without pets may never understand that statement. And that's ok with me.
On Tuesday, I was pretty sure I was going to live, but I wasn't sure how. And I cried a lot with people at work who understood.
On Wednesday, I fluctuated back and forth between being devistatingly sad and knowing I did the right thing. *(I need to come back to this).
On Thursday, I was doing pretty good. I miss her with every bit of me, but I knew she was better off.
Today, my tears have pretty much dried up. But I have kind of a hole inside. I'm a little numb. I'm kind of at the point where I'm not necessarily realizing this is real just yet. Or maybe I'm avoiding realizing this is real.

*On Wednesday, I got to spend some time with my friend Sue. Who helped me probably more than she realizes. She pointed out what a control freak I am. Which doesn't seem all that helpful on the surface, but let me explain.

I was having a really hard time with the guilt. While I know Ellie was really sick, I kept having these feelings of wishing there was something I could have done to keep her here with me and hoping Ellie wasn't somewhere wondering why I didn't. Which is illogical...because had the vet told me that there were some kind of possibility to save her, even if I had to go into debt for it, I would have done it.

Sue reminded me that this was all bigger than me. I want the control over the situation, but the reality of it is, I never had control in the first place.
And the other reality of it is, this happened exactly the way it needed to happen FOR ME.

I knew something wasn't right at the end of April. And I had a good month and a half to "prepare" myself. I knew inside that things weren't getting better. And even though I may not have realized it at the time, subconsciously I WAS preparing myself for it.

In addition, I had the opportunity to spend that time with her to love her and say good bye on Monday. God gave me that because He knew that had it happened the other way, where He just took her while I was at work, and I didn't have that time to say what I needed to say, it would have been more than I could bear.

So, long story short?
In the end, God was taking care of me. And He was taking care of Ellie. And I couldn't be more grateful for that OR for the people in my life who have continued to take care of me when I needed it the most this week.