Hip Hip Horray! We made it through the long weekend. It was up and down and now is done. Here, in my little part of the world, we had THE BEST weather. It was 32 all weekend. With fall looming, anticipating the turning of the leaves, it was nice to have one last hot weekend to spend on the water.
We had more family visiting this weekend. It went well. However, it did further drive home just how little my own family understands our situation. My sister and her husband were at our home. He has never been (they live a 15 hour drive from us). He was eyeing the family pictures on the wall. The pictures of “C”. You could tell he was uncomfortable. He is our son. It is our family. Should we not have family pictures?
I often ask myself how can they be that out of touch with our feelings? I have continued to say time and time again, we do not want anyone to understand this, as it would mean they have lived through it. But, how can they not have any understanding at all. We recently had a family anniversary. I have one cousin who had a breakdown last year. He now suffers from social anxiety. That is how I would label it. DH and I have the same issues. We no longer can handle large groups of people or even family gatherings at someone’s home. Because we cannot handle the repercussions of not going we put in an appearance and then vacate when possible. Both breathing a huge sigh as we enter our vehicle to go home.
On the weekend I was speaking about this with Mother. DH and I had stayed in the foyer and talked to a couple of cousins during the party. There were 200+ people in the room. I said it was just too much. We could not be in the room. Mother replied “I know I could not get around in there” ??????????????????? No, Mom, DH and I cannot handle being around that many people.. It is too much for us. To which I get no response.
I believed we have managed the questions and people’s curiosity quite well over the years. However, I am finding it harder as time goes on and I am finding myself shutting down even more. Why do I need to continue to explain this?
DH and I are on the bubble. The future bubble. What do we do with ourselves for the rest of our marriage? Yes, we are TTC. I know the likelihood of it ever happening is pretty much nil but I am not able to make that decision to end it. I cannot face that decision. It is too hard. But that being said. What do we do with the next 40 years? There will be no basketball games on Thursday night, no sleep overs on Saturday. No birthday parties to plan, No back to school shopping. No summer vacations and summer camp. It will be just be the two of us.
The twins made their appearance yesterday. All was well. Only 3.5 hours from the time they started her IV until Twin B (the girl) was born. She only pushed for less than an hour. Over all a wonderful birthing experience. Twin A, the boy, 5 lbs 4 oz. Twin B, the girl, 4 lbs 15 oz. Born at 37w2d. They will be home soon. Now they are a family of 5. How very strange. We were pregnant together 4 years ago. The boys were born 8 days apart. Yesterday, she gave birth to twins. For the 1000th time, my period started….. Kind of an omen. Another reminder that our time has passed.
I am all over the place today.
I started my day listening to blur. Now I have headed off into the world of Wax, Jamiroquai and now Everclear.
I warned you I was all over the place. Just trying to get the day in so that I can head home for a long weekend. Time to garden, read, do nothing. Spend time with DH.
Not really sure how to describe my feelings on this day. I am having one of those days where you just float through. Knowing what tomorrow brings. The joys and the sadness. C left us 3 years ago tomorrow.
The following words are from the story book “On The Night You were Born” by Nancy Tillman. They are etched into the back of C’s headstone. Kind of a little secret from us to him. You cannot view it from the road. Few know it is there.
“On the night you were born,
the moon shone with such wonder
that the stars peeked in
to see you
and the night wind whispered,
‘Life will never be the same.’
Because there had never been
anyone like you…
ever in the world.”
HIs copy of this book, still sits on my nightstand. I read it now and then and beneath my pillow as I sleep is one of his blankets from the NICU.
My wish today is that all know just how blessed their life is to have the sounds of a little one laughing in their home and their lives.
It has been a week. At times it felt long and others it clipped along. It is nearing the end of the day and I am ready to go home.
Yesterday, I went home crying. I work with the modern-day version of “Regina George”. Yes, the 39-year-old version. Yesterday, she came back to our area gossiping about someone on the other side of the building and mentioned the name of a friend who no longer works here.. Well, I am one that always protects my friends and I just tried to clarify the situation in regards to her involvement or basically the lack there of…
Regina did not want to hear it as it differed from her conversation. I was promptly told that “she did not care, she doesn’t even know the girl, she no longer works here and I wasn’t even talking to you.” Well…. . OK then, be specific because you came back and announced it to the whole department. If it was a private conversation send an FREAKIN email. Hahaha..
I really am not upset at the fact she was rude because that is normal in her case. I am most upset that I allowed myself to be upset. It is not worth it. Over the course of the past few years I have been weeding out the negativity and unwanted. It is not needed and drags me down. I guess this week I am just too emotional and I became the 17-year-old vulnerable to the insult.
Today, I have my back straight, my head held high and all things on ignore. Regina sits next to me.. Although I cannot see her as.. remember I am on ignore. Hahahaha…
We were going to travel this weekend. That has been cancelled as my parents have been ill for a couple of weeks so we will just take a day trip. Go for a drive somewhere nice and have a nice lunch the four of us. We will celebrate Mother’s Day in our own little way. This is a hard time of year for us. 25 years ago today my Grandmother passed away, 23 years ago May 2nd my cousin, 8 years ago, the 13th, my uncle and 3 years ago on the 16th my son. All on my Mother’s side of the family. Mother’s Day is a time we celebrate and reflect on those we love.
I will send wishes to Heaven and to the wind for each and every one of you and wish you all a very Happy Mother’s Day.
I have been absent for a time. I still feel most absent. I am having a hard time of it this year.. Yes, as always there is much going on and many happy things taking place. We recently traveled overnight to meet my sister’s in-law’s to be. We have taken in the sights of the White Mountains in New Hampshire. Which as always are beautiful. Weekends at the lake, days in the hay-field. Summer is always a very busy time here. Labour day weekend always brings the annual trip to the woods for our firewood. (check 4 cord piled and split in back yard! I am ready for the flakes!)
Next week we will be traveling a distance for my sister’s wedding. This week involves packing and a few projects. I made her wedding hanky on the weekend. It is a piece of one of our Grandfather’s hankies, which I crochet around. Tonight, I will make her wedding garter.
Despite it all there is still that seemingly empty hole. It seems to be larger. In truth it is not. Just the same.. just feels worse. Soon my husband and I will celebrate our anniversary. It is our 10th. A special one. Not that they all are not special. I have booked a weekend away. I have but one statement.. Before our wedding. We went though marriage counseling. Our Pastor is a nice man whom I have known most of my life. You know of all the questions, and reading etc… The one question that I do not recall being asked… How will you deal with the loss of a child? Or even…How will you deal with infertility? I remember questions of who will pay the bills, who will clean, our sex life, the discipline of our would be children. How many children we each would like?
Not once in those sessions was the question..How will you deal with the loss of a child? ever posed. I realize during marriage counseling you are looking toward the joy and the happiness but in truth. this is the point of the counseling… Marriage is not an easy road. Hardships take place. Yes, we did speak of loss of work and other day-to-day things. But no heavy hitting questions like this one. I want to be clear. I have always maintained that if you disagree with marriage counseling you have no business getting married. You should be able to discuss each of these important things. You are agreeing to accept responsibility for someone else’s life not just your own. You are agreeing that your choices, decisions and actions are going to directly affect someone else.
Having been married 10 years. I can tell you I was 17 minutes late walking down the aisle (I was 1 minute early arriving at the church). I spent 14 of them on the front walkway of the church holding my flowers.. while my Matron of Honor held all 8 feet of my train as I cried.. I cried, because I loved the man I was to marry so very much and my greatest fear in life was to hurt him or disappoint him. Here I sit almost 10 years later with the same tears. I have hurt my husband. I have failed to give him all his wishes and dreams. My husband will tell you different. He will tell you that he loves me and that I gave him the most beautiful son. That we are a family.
I am grateful that he is my husband. That we are a family. Our version of it..
10 years ago I put this ring on my husband’s hand.. These rings were shiny and new then. Today they show the wear and the love.
I am crying as I read this. Each and every word is so very true. It is just how one feels out and about. The pretending nothing is there so that you can just make it through the store for the loaf of bread and milk to get out before shedding a tear. The void. You are so excited on the inside to hear and see that child and it’s mother. To see the relationship they have and the joy. Hear the laughter in their voice. But then there is a void.
It has been nearly 2 years since I touched or held a child. That child was my own. I am not able to hold another one. I cannot replace the last memory I have of my child with another. That space is his and his alone. I am not strong enough. I just do not have the inner strength to change it.
Thank you for these words. I could never have expressed my feelings any better.
Today at Trader Joe’s, I was surrounded by women my age or younger, all of whom had babies strapped to them, or toddlers in the cart, or little hands inside theirs. One mother beside me was picking out bags of nuts from the shelf, just like me, except she had a cheerleader in the cart beside her, a two-year-old boy going: “Yah! Yeah! Yahhh!!!” every time she tossed a bag of nuts into the cart.
“Yah!” the mother cheered back. “Nuts! Yeah! Woo!”
“Yeah!!!” he cried, then threw back his head and roared with laughter.
They went on like this for ages, grinning, absolutely smitten with each other.
I moved away from them, and felt that empty space in the front of my own cart yawning wide.
I adjusted my eyes so that I couldn’t see any details around me—shifted my eyes into “middle distance” mode. I usually do this…
View original post 556 more words
I know in life we are told to count our blessings. Be grateful for what you have.
Is it terrible to want more? Is it selfish to feel you deserve that one thing that will change the picture of life for you?
Each day I get up and do my very best at my jobs. I have full-time employment. I am also a wife. I am a mother. Each of those things requires me to be different things for different people. I know that as life progresses and we reach different milestones in our life our picture changes.
At 17 and a recent graduate of high school I saw my future laid out for me. I was dating my high school sweetheart and truly thought that we would eventually marry and have a family. Two years later and in college I was recently single and my picture changed. I saw college graduation and looking for a job. I was enjoying time with my friends. My picture changed drastically several times in my twenties. I worked hard, most of the time I maintained two jobs, a full-time and a part-time. I had my own home. I have very close girlfriends and we had adventures and enjoyed all that life could offer us on our budget. Hahaha. Road trips planned on the spur of the moment, that new red hair dye, first tattoos and lazy weekends spent at university with my girlfriends.
Girls night out. At 26, deciding to forget trying to meet a man, embrace our singleness. Bahahaa.. I giggle. That very same night, November 24, 2001, I met my husband. He was shy…………..Ok he was very shy… And yes, I am as well around people I do not know. (Most people will dispute this but it is true) I will admit I had a few drinks, hence the loose tongue. He was standing near a friend of mine. That is the only reason we spoke. The next morning I woke up crying my eyes out. The first man I had met in years…..that was not vulgar, was polite, friendly, kind. And I scared the crap out of him. I told myself that very well could be the best thing that ever happened to you and he will never speak to you again as he was so shy. Hahaha. When I had left the club that night I had said to him. Why don’t you give me a call sometime. I would really like to get to know you better. His response………… Yes ladies you know what men are like…….”Why can’t a woman call a man for once?” A box of Kleenex and 48 hours later I got up the nerve to call.
It was on that night that I began “painting” my masterpiece. Our future. The love of my life, family, a home. I am so thankful that I have someone in my life that helps me with this picture. I guess in life our only wish is that all we do helps the person next to us to create their best “masterpiece”.
I am not yet finished with my masterpiece. I hope to have at least 40 more years to work on it. I just hope that I am able to add those true elements that make any old picture of a work of art.