Still hard to figure out what to write these days. I don’t want to be all doom and gloom. I don’t want to always make people sad with my story. I just have so many feelings I want to get out.
It aches. It aches really bad. Thankfully I am easily distracted but so many things remind me as well. I’ve survived by keeping busy. I can’t sit down for long or I’ll just start crying. There’s cry muscles that I didn’t know I even had and they hurt from overuse.
It’s hard when people ask how I am. I really don’t know how to answer. How am I? I’m hurting….really really really hurting. But I’m also staying positive. I’m changing my lifestyle a lot because I would turn into a complete mess if I went back to my life as it was before. I’ve started exercising and my home is actually clean. Trying to eat healthy aside from the wine that starts getting consumed around this time…even then…not drinking too much like I could.
I’m not thinking “why god?” or “why me?” or any of that. I’m just thinking that this is sad. I hate having my baby in an urn on a shelf when he’s still supposed to be in my tummy. That’s really the hardest part. My baby lives on a shelf. That part makes me ugly cry. That part makes me want to scream. Just the very root of it. My baby is gone, that body I worked so hard to grow is now a bunch of ashes…in an urn…on a shelf. Messed up.
Everything else is just conducive to wallowing. I don’t need to ask why me or why god or why whatever. I’ve honestly been through enough shit in my life that I’m at the point where I know there’s no answers to those questions. They just make things hurt more. They just put me in a mindset where I’m a victim of something when I’m not. I just had this happen to my son and now I need to keep going. It happened. It’s really sad. I’m refusing to let this ruin me. This can make me a better person. I think Jonah deserves to make his mommy a better person.
I’m having a harder time now that my mom is gone. I had her for a few weeks and we cleaned my whole house together. She kept me busy and in good company and distracted. Things are really quiet in my home now. There’s room for my thoughts. I understand I need to work through them all, all the thoughts. They just make things hurt. I miss my mom.
But there’s still laughter in our home. There’s still fun. We are still joyful. We are hanging in there and just carrying on. There’s healing in that. I try to not cry a ton in front of the kids. Just enough so I’m not completely hiding my emotions from them. Isaac is so comforting when he sees me, he says “it’s all fine Mommy”. He’s a wonderful, supportive, kind and sensitive boy.
What else can I say? I was able to bring home one, single Ativan. I still haven’t used it. I’m more now just curious about how it feels to take it…but I’ll keep it for a day when I’m really freaking out about something. Like the first night of the zombie apocalypse or something.
People keep telling me I’m strong. I might be. It doesn’t just come from me though. My husband and family have been a lot of my strength. Brent is just the perfect partner for me. He’s my rock…even if it’s so cliche to say that.
I’ve quickly learned to have grace for people who say all the wrong things. It’s rare…but how should they know what does and doesn’t work for me? People try their best. That’s what I’m seeing. Although I could get angry if I hear “it’s God’s will” one more time. Thankfully that’s been a rare comment. And that might comfort someone else…just not me. We won’t get into why.
I’ve learned even a new level of non judgment. I’ve been that women who looks miserable and has a short temper and says the wrong things lately. Mostly to strangers. Perhaps the next person who does that to you has just lost her baby too. Who knows. We just can’t judge anyone for anything – ever.
Anyway. The wine arrived and I have to figure out what to feed my family for supper still. Thanks for listening.