September 22nd

It's been 2 years ...since the worst day of my life. I don't want to slip into the dark, painful hole, to rehash the moments that changed my life. I just memorialize this day, like any other significant day in my life. Last year I  focused more on this anniversary as being the day Joey died.  This year, it's about the day Joey was born.
He spent 10 minutes on this earth. We were a family for 10 minutes. God gave me that. So today, we celebrate. Without a doubt, this day will always have a heavy feeling attached to it, but it's one I must acknowledge.
Last September 22nd, Joe and I ( 9 months pregnant) stood out in the cold rain building a memorial garden from the plot of land where a tree was destroyed. It's like life. When something dies, new life arises. I've worked on this garden all year long, planting bushes and flowers from us, Joey's Grandparents and Great Grandparents. It's a memorial garden from family, and built with love. It's a place that I can go to daily and get lost in my thoughts while I weed, fill the bird bath, watch the butterflies dance with the bees, and a place to think about my little guy. By no means is this garden complete. It's a work in progress....just like me.

Last September 22nd, My family and I went to the lake to release red heart lanterns. It was probably the windiest day of the year and not 1 lantern would light, let alone inflate and release. It was such a let down. It meant a lot that we all gathered  together for the effort. This year, Joe and I  decided to try the release again. Wouldn't you know it...the weather was exactly the same as it was last year. Cold, rainy, and of course WINDY. I was determined!! After 2 failed, ripped attempted...one inflated and we had lift off!!

No Stranger to loss

I'm no stranger to loss. Frankly, who is? Haven't we all lost someone or some thing that meant something to us? I wonder if because I'm getting older, that the rate of loss will only increase?
I haven't written since my second hardest loss hit. I lost my first "child", my companion, my soul sister, my boo-boo bunny....my sissy. This heart-wrenching loss feels different than my loss of Joey. I talk about Joey all the time. But I can't bring myself to talk about Anna, or look at her toys, or finger through pictures of her. If I do, I lose my breath. My stomach feels sunken in, and I just can't seem to take a breath. It's a heavy feeling. This loss is different because she was all I had, for so long. I know the age old saying is a mans best friend is his dog, but they missed the mark by not mentioning soul mate. I think about her everyday. I remind myself of what her fur felt like, where her unique markings were, the special spots on her lips where I would lay my all encompassing kiss on. I'm afraid these images will fade soon and it terrifies me. I still have her pillow with her pillow case unwashed. I won't clean it. I won't lose the smell of her or the fibers of hair she has left behind. She shared in all my special events and went everywhere with me. I hate the thought that she is missing out on these days. That she is missing out on Kessa. They would be the best of friends today...I just know it. She stuck around long enough to see my broken heart mended by the arrival of Kessa. She knew her place; she knew her time. I just wasn't ready to say goodbye. She moved on, March 25th 2014.
This is the last picture taken before she crossed the Rainbow Bridge.

Today was a particularly hard day missing Anna.
I wanted to quickly view a video of her...just to refresh my memory...ya know, out of fear of forgetting. This video is one that is priceless to me. My 2 babies...sharing in a moment.

I visited a pet cemetery today to visit an old friend. As I passed by this Rainbow bridge, I realized Anna is ok. She is pain free. It's only me that hurts now.

I guess this is hitting me particularly hard, because September is a month of loss for me. Joey on September 22nd and now my friend Kelly on September 8th.
There are some new beginnings...just on the horizon.

“Somebody Needs Me.”

Ever since we brought our new daughter home, somebody has needed me. I could be enjoying a quick shower then the baby starts crying.”  Or, sitting down for a second, quite aware that the baby was beginning to stir from a nap. Some days never seem to end, and the monotony of being “needed” can really take its toll. Then, it all started to hit me, she needs ME.  Not anybody else.  Not a single other person in the whole world.  She needs her Mommy.
The sooner I can accept that being Mommy means that I never go off the clock, the sooner I can find peace in this crazy stage of life.   That ‘Mommy’ is my duty, privilege and honor. I am ready to be there when somebody needs me, all day and all night.  Mommy means I feel ragged, unshowered, pulled in every direction, un-focused, spread too thing, and just plain exhausted.  Mommy means my husband and I haven’t had a real conversation in months.  Mommy means I neglect myself and put others before my needs, without a thought.  Mommy means that my body is full of aches and my heart is full of love.
I am sure there will come a day when no one needs me.  My baby will be long gone and consumed with her own life.  I may sit alone in some assisted living facility watching my body fade away.  No one will need me then.  I may even be a burden.  Sure, she will come visit, but my arms will no longer be her home.  My kisses no longer her cure.
So for now, I find beauty with rocking in our cozy little nursery.  It’s 8pm and I am exhausted and frustrated, but it’s okay, she needs me.  Just me.  And maybe, I need her too.  Because she makes me Mommy.  Some day I will sit in my wheelchair, my arms empty, dreaming of those quiet nights in the nursery.  When she needed me and we were the only two people in the world.
Can I enjoy being needed?  Sometimes, sure, but often it is tiring.  Exhausting.  But, it isn’t meant to be enjoyed every moment.  It is a duty.  God made me her Mom.  It is a position I yearned for long before I would ever understand it. Yep.  All day, everyday.  That’s my job.  And I have to admit that it is the toughest job I have ever had. 
Once upon a time, I had time.  For myself.  Now, my toe nails need some love.  My bra fits a little differently.  My curling iron might not even work anymore, I don’t know.  I can’t take a shower without feeling rushed.  My hair is limp, my skin us dull & the bags I have under my eyes should be leaving on vacation.  My proof of motherhood.  Proof that somebody needs me.  That right now, somebody always needs me.
These years of being needed are exhausting, yet fleeting.  I have to stop dreaming of “one day” when things will be easier.  Because, the truth is, it may get easier, but it will never be better than today.  Today, when I am covered in baby spit up.  Today, when I savor those chubby little cheeks pressed up against mine.  Today is perfect.  ”One day” I will get pedicures and shower as long as I want.  ”One day” I will get myself back.  But, today I give myself away, and I am tired, and dirty and loved SO much, and I gotta go.  Somebody needs me.

A little help from above

Today is January 22nd, which means a year ago...Life and death took place within 24 hours.
We were at the end stages of our second attempt at pregnancy since Joey left us. (Our first attempt ended with a big fat negative on Christmas morning. How's that for a "how-do ya'-do, Christmas Present"?)
The procedure is a month long of tracking blood work, ultrasounds, and ohhh yea...the horrifically painful daily dose of a medicated shot to the stomach. The concentration is so intense, that my eyes literally bulge out of my head and just when I think I can't take it anymore, he withdraws the needle. Poor Joe. That can't be easy. It all comes down to the day when you are most fertile, which would be "tomorrow". Fingers crossed science does it's thing. That your body does what it's supposed to do. That God, this time, will give you a baby. But "today"...Joe's Grandfather died. The nerves of "tomorrow" quickly faded as we mourned the loss of a loved one. January 23rd turned out to be sureal. As I laid on the table, looking up at Joe...wishing, praying, BEGGING God to let this be the time...a true and honest sense of calm came over me. I felt Pop was going to aide in letting it work this time. We had someone "up there" who was on our side, and it worked. January 23rd was the start of creation of our little crumb bun! Thanks Pop...we KNOW you had something to do with it!

The last year has NOT been easy. 10 long months of constant worry and never really enjoying the pregnancy that I'm painfully aware could end in an instant. The constant questioning of every move I make. Am I bending over too much? Are these long car rides harming the baby at all? Am I accidentally sleeping on the wrong side? Am I on my feet too much? Is my Cervix holding out? Which lead to weekly ultrasounds. The constant, every second of every minute, of every hour, of every day...WORRY. The loss of a baby changes you. It alters your state of mind. You may believe that it is possible to get over the loss of a baby. You may not understand why one doesn't replace the other. But you can't, and it doesn't. Can you even imagine the emptiness, pain and sorrow? Granted...my heart and soul are filled with so much joy and content having my Rainbow baby in my arms. My purpose has been satisfied. My life has meaning. She needs me and I NEED her. But she is not my only child. She is the only child you will see and know, but she is not an only child.

I am eternally grateful for God giving me my turn, for Pop helping us get our girl, and for Joey always watching over her. She's our everything!

                                                                               Kessa holding her big brother

Gifts of Grief

How can a gift come from grief? Easily. It's the unanswered prayers, it's the man you marry after a horrific break up, it's the baby you have after a loss, and for this post...it's all about the friendships and sisters you gain while going through it. It's the oddest places and when you least expect it, that God places people in your life.
Tara and Miranda are my BLM soul sisters. They have both lost babies within weeks of me losing Joey. They also delivered their Rainbow babies within weeks of Kessa. These babies were chosen. These babies belong. They are the gifts of grief.
My other gifts of grief don't live close, they don't know my family, and they may not even share the same interests...but what they do know, is the pain and the joy that dance side by side in our daily lives.
People have asked "Are you over what happened to you now that you have your baby"? I speak for all 3 of us when I say WE WILL NEVER BE OVER IT. We didn't suffer from the flu; our child died. While we thank the Lord above for the miracle babies that fill our arms, we still shed tears for the babies that don't. As we lovingly nurture and stare at their little faces, it's impossible to not think "Would our angel look this"? These precious little ones are daily reminders of what was taken from us, and what the good Lord granted us. They are the gifts of grief.

I thank these girls...for their love, understanding and support. It's a connection like no other.
It's an unthinkable, unfair circumstance that we suffered, but you both are also my gifts of grief.

These girls are the faces of loss. They are also the faces of perseverance. These are the faces of strong women who have overcome such heartache. These are faces I'm proud to call my gifts of grief.

My Rainbow has appeared!

SHE'S HERE! SHE'S HERE! SHE'S FINALLY HERE!
After I lost her brother, the thought of actually holding a baby in my arms seemed a million dreams away.
After 10 months of pregnancy which consisted of shots, weekly doctors appointments, a specifically designed lifestyle regimen, and oh, let's not forget about the constant 24 hours a day, 7 days a week...WORRY.....my Rainbow is here. I don't know what 1 specific tactic worked for me...but it's not a regimen that I would change for the future. She arrived perfect. She arrived with a guardian angel on her shoulder protecting her all the way. She came out with an angel kiss on each eye lid, where her brother kissed her and told her to go mend the hearts of their parents. Joey hand picked Kessa out for us and he couldn't have done a better job. I thank God every day for the her and for allowing me to have a baby in my arms and be called MOM.

It's been a year

It's been a year. A year since the worst day of my life. A whole year since you left us. My life changed that day and it's about to change again. You did exactly what angels are supposed to do. Protect and provide. You've hand picked and protected our rainbow. I still cry everyday. A year isn't long enough to stop the tears, just like a lifetime isn't long enough to mend a heart.When I sit in your sister's nursery, I think about how you should have had a nursery. As I stack her books, I think about all the books I never got a chance to read to you. But what I can do for you, is build you a memorial garden. I don't know what the weather was last September 22nd because it was pitch black to me. This September 22nd is going to be filled with sunshine as I create this garden with love and memories. I'll watch it grow& flourish , as I should be watching you do. Happy 1st birthday/angelversary buddy.

So what did I do differently this time?
First, I read, read, read all I could about baby loss, and different doctors theory's on how to prevent subsequent losses. I learned that doctors treat based on a "within normal limits" approach. Well, any BLM will tell you...our situation isn't normal, and we certainly don't want to move forward being treated as such.
So I designed my own prenatal treatment care plan based on everything I read and persuaded both my OB and Perinatal (high risk) to agree. Truth be told, they both thought my treatment approach was over the top, but I didn't care. Especially if "over the top" gets me a healthy baby.
My plan: See my OB bi-weekly for cervical swabs for infection and testing for UTI's.
Weekly visits to my perinatal for a cervical length scan and ultrasound to measure amniotic fluid, heart rate and growth. Watching my baby grow was the highlight of my week. I also received weekly progesterone shots to calm my uterus.  I took a daily supplement of prenatal vitamin, Vitamin C, and pro-biotic.
No sex, no swimming, and no baths. I bought a home fetal heart monitor to listen to the baby's heartbeat before I could feel her significantly move on a daily basis. (that was more to keep me sane) I avoided most recreational activities, avoiding walking long distances and stayed off my feet when possible.
I don't know if one particular thing worked, if it was a combination of things or if none of these things mattered. All I do know is....I am waiting for my healthy baby girl to arrive any time now.
God is good and miracles DO happen.

Mother's Day 2013

It's Mother's Day, and it feels so bitter sweet. I'm mourning for the little guy who gave me the powerful title "Mother", while relishing in the fact that I'm caring for the little girl inside of me. I am a Mother of 2 children, neither which are in my arms.

This is my Gender reveal video..and a dedication to thank Joey for hand picking his sister for us.

Mother's Day

It's my first Mother's Day. Unfortunately, it's without my little boy.
This seems fitting:

Dear Mr. Hallmark,

I am writing to you from heaven,

and though it must appear

A rather strange idea,

I see everything from here.

I just popped in to visit,

your stores to find a card

A card of love for my mother,

as this day for her is hard.

There must be some mistake I thought,

every card you could imagine

Except I could not find a card,

from a child who lives in heaven.

She is still a mother too,

no matter where I reside

I had to leave, she understands,

but oh the tears she’s cried.

I thought that if I wrote you,

that you would come to know

That though I live in heaven now,

I still love my mother so.

She talks with me, and dreams with me;

we still share laughter too,

Memories our way of speaking now,

would you see what you could do?

My mother carries me in her heart,

her tears she hides from sight.

She writes poems to honor me,

sometimes far into the night.

She plants flowers in my garden,

there my living memory dwells

She writes to other grieving parents,

trying to ease their pain as well.

So you see Mr. Hallmark,

though I no longer live on earth

I must find a way,

to remind her of her wondrous worth

She needs to be honored,

and remembered too

Just as the children of earth will do.

Thank you Mr. Hallmark,

I know you’ll do your best

I have done all I can do;

to you I’ll leave the rest.

Find a way to tell her,

how much she means to me

Until I can do it for myself,

when she joins me in eternity.

                                                                 Get it?... "A JOEY"

                                                                  
                                                                   

16 Weeks

16 Weeks is a time frame that resonates such harsh memories. I gave birth and lost Joey at exactly 16 weeks. That was all the time I had with him. That small amount of time, formed an unbreakable attachment.
I knew reaching 16 weeks with this little miracle was going to be a scary milestone. It was never a question of making it past the first 12 weeks. It was a question of, will I make it past 16? I have reached that milestone TODAY. I know I'm already ahead of the game. Little buddy is doing great!

Waiting for my Rainbow.. to arrive in October!

Title of this blog says "Waiting for my Rainbow"...and folks, I couldn't be more happier to announce that I AM actually WAITING for my Rainbow. Due to make an appearance early October. My gut tells me September, b/c the irony of that would make it surreal  I lost a baby in September, and my rainbow shines in September.
It's been a tough journey for both Joe and I. Struggling through a loss, trying again immediately, and dealing with the emotions of a new pregnancy. I was filled with guilt that I was replacing Joey so soon, guilt for not being as happy as I should have been when I got a positive pregnancy test, and guilt that I was somehow taking away something magical for this new little person, b/c I was still struggling with such heartache.
I am learning to love this pregnancy more and more each day. I feel life inside of me, not only in my womb, but in my heart. I know this tiny little person was sent here by God and Joey, and they will change my life for the better!

The fluff of a baby book

As I sit here...glaring up at all my pregnancy books...I feel the urge to want to spit on the one titled " What to expect when you're expecting". What a load of crap that book is. Endless fluff of information.
Why did I even keep that useless book? Why doesn't it have a chapter on "BABIES CAN DIE". or "WHAT TO DO IF YOUR WATER PREMATURELY BREAKS". A check list for preemies...like make sure you have a name picked out, bring a camera, bring an outfit for the baby to be put in, how to make funeral arrangements, etc. Ok..I can see how my version wouldn't be a best seller, but the fluff of...you're nipples may become darker, just isn't relevant. You know who that book is designed for? 20 somethings, who are absorbed into themselves and who have time to stare at their changing nipples. "Comforting answers to questions like "Does talking on a cell phone hurt my baby? Will my baby suffer if I don't drink milk?" REALLY? THIS is what's on the mind of pregnant women? Dear God...what I wouldn't pay to have simple worries such as complexion problems while pregnant. How about more pressing issues like avoiding baths, proper kick counts, or how to catch early warning signs of a UTI. Or topics that cover placenta eruptions, heart beats that just stop, and cords wrapped around necks. Ya know...the things that matter.

Maybe I should write a book.. "What your friends don't tell you, and your doctors don't want you to know. The truth about what can happen during those 9 months"

Joey

It's March 8th. That date means nothing to anyone else..BUT ME. Today was your due date. You were supposed to be here by today. It's a weird day for me, but in my gut I know you would have already been here by now. You were just too big to not have come early. I'm sitting here typing this dumb blog, while I'm perfectly aware that I should be off nursing a newborn. But I'm not.
I've come along way in my grief journey. I am somewhere in between anger and acceptance. I think of you everyday and I know you're leading me to wonderful things.

Today...I shall share with the world WHO you are. I've kept it a secret far too long.

On September 22nd, 2012 at 6:20am, I had a little boy. 6 1/2 inches long and sure to be as tall as his daddy.
This beautiful baby boy will no longer be called "Baby Mamott".
Under NYS courts, We have officially named him...

JOSEPH " JOEY" MAMOTT

                               You're always going to be our little buddy 

Reason- Season - or a Lifetime

Reason, Season, or Lifetime
People come into your life for a reason, a season or a lifetime.
When you figure out which one it is,
you will know what to do for each person.
When someone is in your life for a REASON,
it is usually to meet a need you have expressed.
They have come to assist you through a difficulty;
to provide you with guidance and support;
to aid you physically, emotionally or spiritually.
They may seem like a godsend, and they are.
They are there for the reason you need them to be.
Then, without any wrongdoing on your part or at an inconvenient time,
this person will say or do something to bring the relationship to an end.
Sometimes they die. Sometimes they walk away.
Sometimes they act up and force you to take a stand.
What we must realize is that our need has been met, our desire fulfilled; their work is done.
The prayer you sent up has been answered and now it is time to move on.
Some people come into your life for a SEASON,
because your turn has come to share, grow or learn.
They bring you an experience of peace or make you laugh.
They may teach you something you have never done.
They usually give you an unbelievable amount of joy.
Believe it. It is real. But only for a season.
LIFETIME relationships teach you lifetime lessons;
things you must build upon in order to have a solid emotional foundation.
Your job is to accept the lesson, love the person,
and put what you have learned to use in all other relationships and areas of your life.
It is said that love is blind but friendship is clairvoyant.

Friends are the family members that you get to choose. You never think that your friends would betray you or fall out of your life, but as I get older, I realize that some were never meant to be there for the entire ride. I’ve always been quite selective with who I’ve chosen to let in my life, and more importantly, my inner circle. 
Reason. Maybe I've met some of them because there was a need. A need to mentor, heal, or supply something that was absent. We were brought into each others life for a divine reason. But things don’t always go the way you think they will.  My frustration causes me to wonder what the point of it all was. What was the reason we became friends if the friendship would crumble so easily? You start viewing them differently and struggling to remember what the attraction was. I'm not the same person anymore. I don't need what it is you delivered. I hope you grow with me, but if you don't, Its time to let go & realize that it's time to move on. On a positive note, Beautiful friendships blossom because of a reason. (This applies to you Miranda! :-)
Season.  As an adult, you have different expectations for a friendship. It should be easy. Often, it is not. These friendships are formed at work, or perhaps a class you shared. I often see friends stuck together like glue. Maybe they are in the same place in their lives. As often as I see them attached, I see them fade too. You fixate on one particular person and ignore the others. That never ends well. People never forget how you've past over them. To make a real connection at this age seems nearly impossible. People flake out, cancel, & are unwilling to commit. Unfortunately your only means of communication with your friend fades into a text. That season, will always remain one of the best and one of the most impactful in life, but like real seasons, they often change…and bring something or someone else. (no need to mention any names)
Lifetime.  The past year has been quite trying in every way imaginable.  The funny thing is,  I wasn’t the only one going through something.  My most treasured friends shined through. The reasons and seasons faded away. The happenings in the recent past have altered who we’ve become, taught us who we want to be, and strengthened the positives we already have. These are the friendships that lead you further into your life and walk with you throughout it. No matter what changes may occur (marriage, children, career), they are there.
Life was never meant to be lived alone.  Along with finding your perfect match in a mate, God blesses you with special people in your life to fill your friendship tank.  It may take several wrong turns with the wrong passengers before you get to your destination, but eventually you’ll arrive with the right people in tow.  Guard your heart, mind, and words. Take time to build trust.  Most importantly, don’t let the negative experiences harden your heart and keep you from the positive things and people that lie in your future.  I’m grateful for my lifetime friends. (This applies to you Leanne! :-) Don’t forget to be grateful for yours.

The Muchness of Marriage

Something our grief counselor said to me this week really resonated with me.   As Chaotic as my life is..it was a methodical sub-conscious move on my part in choosing Joe as a partner.  I chose an all American, calm, stable, even-keel man. It makes sense. He's the Ying to my Yang. Someone to calm the chaos, suppress the over dramatic, over the top moments, love me when I can't love myself, and most importantly someone who is strong enough to weather the storm that I often am.

This guy Loves me. Plain and simple. The way I catch him staring at me. The way he guarantees a day doesn't go by without some form of affection. Being the best Daddy he can be to Anna. The way my happiness is always on his mind. The way I feel when I'm with him. This is Joe. This is the guy I sub-consciously, yet methodically chose to be my life partner. The guy who suffered the same devastating loss as I did. I couldn't do it without him. I just couldn't.
Thank You for loving me the way you do.

I wish every girl was lucky enough to find "their Joe".

Shoes

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable Shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in the world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by
before they think of how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
Author Unknown

 

The cycle

7am and there I sat...in a waiting room full of hopefuls. Careful not to make eye contact upon arrival in fear of what they might think. What WHO might think? The 15 other women who have the same desperate look on their face as you do? As I finally glanced at each individual, I imagined what each woman's story might be. Was this their first time? Were they a veteran like me? Were any of them disguising heart breaks like myself? It didn't really matter. They were all there in hopes of a baby. To overcome their past failed conceptions. They were all hopeful. When one woman is called in and another on her way out, holding her arm where she just gave blood...I wonder, was this the test that identified a positive pregnancy for her? God I hope so. I hope so for each and every women who was called one by one. I know their routine. I know the heartbreak.  It starts with the initial first eager call on day 1 of your cycle. Followed up with blood work and an invasive ultrasound on day 3. Call the medical hot line number they give you and wait to hear your name on a list of all those hopefuls you saw in the waiting room. Listen to the instructions of what dose to inject of the highly potent follicle stimulating drug that burns so bad, you almost think your eyes bulge out of your head. Your nervous about how to mix the concoction, so you listen to the message again. You repeat these steps every 3 days. Blood work, ultrasound, message, freak out, concoction, inject, and so on...until your arms are bruised like a drug user and your stomach begins to resemble a pin cushion. You finally reach day 10, where the message on the list of many hopefuls, says after your name "Take your trigger shot, and we'll see you in the office in 36 hours". This is it!!..The moment where your life can change forever. You've been stimulating those bad boy follicles and boy oh boy are they ripe and rearing to go. It's clinical. It's not romantic or sexy, but it makes a baby anyhow. The love between us is no different despite the procedure we endure. We wait with crossed fingers and toes for 2 whole weeks...hoping that the efforts we put in, financially, emotionally and physically, all pay off. Only to see ..that first sign, when your pesty Aunt Flo insists on visiting...that it didn't work. And you start the whole process over again.
You see...I SEE those stories on their pretty, vulnerable, anxious, hopeful faces. So I ofter a gentle "I know" smile and proceed with my day.
THIS is how bad I want a child. THIS is what I must endure month after month to achieve this ever-so-easy for some, yet challenging goal for me.

Balance

I've been trying to find a balance. A balance between my grief journey and healing. There are days I'm hopeful. Days where I embrace my new found neonatal education. Relish in being a support system for other BLM's. Unfortunatly I find I have more days of  panic, spontaneous tears, regrets and mind numbing flashbacks.
I'm suddenly surrounded by pregnant women. I realize their happieness has no bearing on my situation or future. My husband reminds me that there is no quota of babies being born. It's not like someone stole mine.
It feels like being put in a time out, watching everyone else around you have fun. When is my time out over?

I'm not going to let go of the past. I chose to hang on to it. I just need to view it differently. With less nightmares, tears and fears. They ain't kidding when they say such trauma like this really does alter a person.
My being is different, my marriage is different, my world is different. Different doesn't mean bad. Different means ...different.

Don't cry too long. Don't go too long without crying. Don't stare too long at the baby's picture. Don't go too long without looking. Thinking back to when you were pregnant. Thinking of when you'll be pregnant again. Go to work. Function normally. Despite everything you feel crumbling inside.
It's tiring being sad. It's tiring trying to be strong. It's tiring fighting everyday for something I want so badly.

Trying to find the balance.

The clock of life

Tick, tick, tick...that's all I hear. It's like looking at a clock that's broken and you see the second hand trying to move, but it's stuck in place. Except mine is the clock of life. I'm standing in the middle of a busy street and everyone is walking briskly, and cars speeding by...and I'm standing still. Stuck. Stuck on September 22nd. Fall came and went. Old man winter is here. And I'm still staring at myself in the mirror, wiping away tears, asking "How did I get here"? Nothing in my life has come easy. Everything a struggle. I don't have a plethora of great friends, I don't own a house, I don't make a lot of money, I don't love where I live...but I thought it was all turning around for me when I was blessed with a wonderful husband later in life. It wasn't what or how I dreamed it would be...b/c I planned on being married at 25 and having 4 kids. Funny how life happens when you're busy making plans. But this was my turn. My turn for happiness. At what point does all your bad luck run out? I've gotta be close.

See with any type of loss..you're overwhelmed by love, encouragement and generosity in the beginning. It can even bring out the best & people together. Then time passes, and people move on. Except for the person who suffered the loss. They still cry. They still hurt. It has been said that, "time heals all wounds". I do not agree. The wounds remain. In time the mind, protecting its sanity, covers them with scar tissue and the pain lessens. But it is never gone.

I now know who you are, and the pain is deeper than ever.