Life goes on

Life Goes On.......

It might not move as smoothly as before. It might not be filled with all of the joyful memories we thought we would have the chance to make. But it moves. On. With or without our consent. And it drags us along with it. 

No matter where we think we are in that moment, on that day, in that memory----life goes on.

It always surprises me to know just how many "outsiders" think that having living children to come home to somehow lessens the pain of our loss or makes it miraculously more bearable. It doesn't. While I would never pretend to begin to fathom the excruciating and devastating return to a silent home after saying goodbye to an only child, I can tell you that coming home to a house full of children running around does not ease the pain. It does not make it easier, more bearable, less devastating or in any way "better" than the alternative. Let's be honest here. The ONLY way to make "it" better would be for "it" never to have happened in the first place. 

Yes-I am blessed beyond measure. Yes-I was grateful for the faces that greeted me when I returned home from "that place" two days after experiencing the greatest tragedy a parent can ever be expected to endure. (I say endure because that's what we do. We endure. We do not survive. Survival implies moving past or overcoming. Those words will never be part of this journey). But in the time since the death of my two beautiful,perfect and precious daughters the presence of their siblings has, while providing me with a source of strength and inspiration,also served as a constant and continuing reminder of each and every single thing I will NEVER experience with my daughters. 

But-life goes on. It keeps moving forward no matter how backward our grief might make us feel. And often our grief is compounded. The unsupportive spouse. Distant friends. The uncomfortable silence because "we just don't know what to say to her." Or the sister/neighbor/friend/co-worker who has what you lost. But "they" don't notice. They can't. Because.......life goes on.

And it does. Even if we feel like ours has stopped. It hasn't. The clock still ticks away the hours. The calendar still flies through the months. The seasons still pass in the blink of an eye. And the years continue to move. On. Forward. No matter how many times we wish we could go back. No matter how often we think we have. No matter how hard we try to hold on. Life goes on. And so do we. Without realizing it the minutes turn to hours and the hours to days. And before you know it.......1,307 days have passed since you last held your tiny babies in your arms,breathed in their scent in an attempt to ingrain it in your memory, kissed their tiny fragile bodies and sobbed from the depths of your soul as you watched them leave you knowing you would never see them again. At least not in this life. Right then. In that moment......although you didn't think so.....life was going on. 

The Bookstore

 I went to the bookstore today......standing amongst hundreds of books about pregnancy and childbirth and how to parent your child and all of the topics in between. There was not ONE book on stillbirth. And I cried. And I am still fighting the tears. One of those dreaded unexpected moments in the life of a grieving mother. Just one more example of how the "Rest of the world" would rather ignore or pretend that our babies never were........ that something that ugly doesn't happen in normal life. One more slap to the face for the thousands of mothers who lie in a hospital every year and experience the miracle of childbirth without the miracle of life.


 And no one understands.....except those other mothers.

Reflections

Yes,I know. It's been awhile. Again. So I'm not all that adept at this daily blog thing. Sue me. I'm here now and that's all that counts,right?
Here. I am here. But where is THAT exactly?
Here is December 1,2010. Here is the last thirty days of the year. Perhaps more profoundly......here is the last thirty days of the first decade of this century. I know. You never really thought about it like that,did you? Me either.
But it is. And I am thinking about it now. And thanks to reading this-so are you.
So let me ask you.....if this is the end of the decade......what do you see if you close your eyes and reflect on that decade? What have you accomplished? Where did you fall short of your expectations? Did you achieve the goals you had set for yourself? Are you where you thought you would be?
Ten years ago when you imagined your life "ten years from now" you plotted a course in your mind. A roadmap showing the ever important "You Are Here" spot, the destination you had chosen and the rest stops along the way. Did you stick to your route? Did you change course once your trip began and take a more scenic route,still arriving at your destination? Are you still en route? Were you impatient-choosing to drive straight through no matter how exhausted the non-stop trip might make you? Or,like me....did you somehow hit every speed bump and pothole in existence making it necessary to not only slow your pace but forcing you to take detours you couldn't find on your map? Did you become hopelessly lost?
My journey from there to here is nothing like the trip I had planned. Somewhere between starting my car and backing out of the driveway my map blew out the window and away with the wind. There I was....embarking on a voyage of epic proportions with no map, no gps and sadly,no sense of direction. To say I got "turned around" more than once would be to put it mildly.
Ten years. To some it sounds like a brief moment, to others a lifetime. To me-I know that a lifetime can happen in the blink of an eye that makes up those ten years. Ten years can bring an abundance of joy,immeasurable pleasure and more blessings than a single person could deserve. Ten years can bring an excruciating pain most people cannot fathom and many would never survive. Ten years can shatter who you thought you were and show you who you truly have become.
In this decade I have experienced two marriages,one divorce and the birth of four children. (Oddly enough this also means I have officially given birth in each of the last three decades!!) I have lost a cousin,an uncle,two grandmothers,watched my husband's grandfather slip away and said goodbye to two of my own babies. I spent two years fighting to bring home two of my children when they were kidnapped by their father and have spent the three years since watching them blossom into amazing young ladies. I witnessed the transition of two of my sons from little boys to young men to adults and am still in awe of their greatness. In this decade I have forged unbreakable bonds with some of the most amazing women you will ever meet ( BLM's I love you all) and for the first time in my life established a relationship with the only father I have ever known.I watched two of my sisters get married and became an aunt to six more nieces and nephews (to add to the other eight I already had.) I watched helplessly as my son had his heart truly broken (shattered is more like it) for the first time and witnessed his journey back to himself afterward with more pride than I can describe.
This decade has taken me to some of my highest moments and seen me fall into the abysmal grief that follows losing a child. This decade has demolished the image of who I thought I was and altered the course of who I imagined I would be. I have discovered that while ten years ago I believed myself to be a strong-willed and persevering kind of person I now know that I am strong beyond even my own realization and can survive anything because ,quite frankly-I have.
Where has the last ten years taken you? And where will you go in the next ten?

Ask Miss Jeanie

This is a blog I posted a couple years ago on MySpace and then reposted on FB. But I thought it was worth reposting because it happens to be one of my favorites. Enjoy!!

Ok-I am sure most of you (if not all) have at least browsed those talk shows where the distressed mothers sit on stage next to the host sobbing uncontrollably in obvious pain over the latest stunt pulled by their angelic cherub of a child. They just cannot understand why precious is banging everything with a pair of boxers, having more than one child before graduating (if they ever make it that far) and dressing like something out of a low budget pretend porno from late night cable. Mommy doesn't know why precious wants to hurt her this way , smoke drugs or break curfew every night. Boo-hoo-hoo. Well….the talk show host usually parades the little angels out on stage and then corrals them into some quick scare the bejesus out of you camp/prison for a peek at what their future holds if they don't straighten up. Miraculously they do and they all ride off into the white picket fence sunset.
RIGHT!!!!
Seriously…I enjoy laughing at the stupidity of these shows as much as the next sane person. But enough is enough. I just can't take another episode of mommy sitting there asking her 12 year old crack whore wanna be why she dresses so skanky and feels the need to wear skirts that are little more than a waistband and zipper or tops that look like they belong on a Barbie doll. So…I have decided to begin my own parenting column. I have answers to all those pesky questions parents have been asking for years. Here is a sampling:

1. Miss Jeanie how can I get my 13 year old daughter to dress more appropriately and stop wearing clothes from "Hookers –R-Us"?? Signed-mom of a future ho
Dear ho's momma,
STOP BUYING THEM!!! Seriously people….how hard is this one? Really…..where does little precious get her clothes? At 13 she doesn't have a job so my guess is that mommy is buying them for her. Not sure if what you're buying is borderline skankville??? Here's a clue….if precious pulls you into the lingerie department or the local adult video store nothing good can come of it! Try the children's department instead….
2. Miss Jeanie my 12 year old is rude and disrespectful. She throws a fit if she doesn't get what she wants and calls me a bitch and has even slapped me a couple times. I have tried grounding her but it just doesn't work. I don't know what to do. Signed-scared in my own home.
Dear wimpy,
I have to ask a question here first. Does she still have teeth and the ability to stand? If so,why??? BEAT HER!! Badly…..until there is bloodshed. Now,I know what you are thinking. She will call the police and report me. Trust me when I tell you that if you beat her properly not only will she not call the police (she will be physically unable to) but she will begin acting appropriately faster than you can say "problem solved". I am completely amazed that grounding hasn't worked, afterall being sent to your room equipped with your dvd player,flatscreen tv,Ipod,cell phone,laptop and every video game known to man would be torture for any pre-teen girl. Here's an idea and this is just off the top of my head……strip the room of everything but the mattress, a pillow, one blanket and whatever outfit you pick out for her to wear the next day (and for crying out loud refer back to item one before picking said outfit). Ground her for a period of not less than two weeks and with the exception of meals and school this means not leaving her room (and no-phones of any kind are not allowed). My guess is the grounding will work. Oh,and as for the police thing…I really wouldn't worry about that. Simply offer to call them for her as you are beating the little angel for calling you out and remind her that by the time they arrest you the charge will be a little more serious than simple child abuse. As a matter of fact put the police on speed dial and let her know just which number to push to reach them.
3. Miss Jeanie my 15 year old yells at me anytime I tell her no and says I am ruining her life. She wants to date an older boy and stay over at his house on weekends. She thinks I am too strict and says I need to get a grip on the times. She breaks her curfew and tells me she hates me when I ask her to respect the rules. What should I do? Signed-feels like I have lost my best friend.
Dear Clueless-
Here is the number one mistake parents make. You have not lost your best friend…she is not now nor has she ever been your friend of any kind and the sooner you understand that the better. She is your child. PERIOD. Next time she says she hates you simply smile and say thank you. That means you are doing your job. If she tells you you are ruining her life again acknowledge positively stating that this is in fact your main goal in life and you are happy to hear you are achieving it with minimal exertion. Explain to angel dear that you are not here to be her friend and do not give a rat's ass if she likes you. Make no mistake she will respect you or else. As for the curfew issue-if we know she breaks it every time she goes out why do we still allow her to go out? Just a question. Afraid she will sneak out if you say no? Bars on the windows and an alarm on the doors will take care of that in no time at all. Now….I need you to repeat after me. There are three phrases you need to learn in dealing with your precious princess……
1. NO
2. HELL NO
3. OH HELL NO (This one involves hand gestures and neck movements so practice before using).
Those three phrases need to be used forcefully and frequently by you when dealing with little miss doesn't have a clue. Use phrase one in answer to any utterance from her beginning with "Can I….?" Now,since we are still trying to teach good manners here at least let her finish her sentence while pretending to actually listen and contemplate allowing her to have her wish. Then firmly assert yourself and use the phrase. Be prepared for yelling. Smile and walk away. Any request involving members of the opposite sex should be answered in the same fashion using the second phrase. Here is where the recognition of your skill at life ruining will be announced. Again,smile and walk away. Pretend not to hear her rantings. Finally,when any request involving overnight visits ANYWHERE arise (trust me she is not staying at Susie's house ) simply sigh, prepare your neck and hand and proceed with phrase three. Do not allow any hesitation or the effectiveness will be lost.
Now…these are just a few of my favorite parenting complaints. There are so many more. So,please feel free to write to me for advice anytime and I will be more than happy to guide you in your parenting journey. Just remember – there are no parenting experts. There are only people who think they are experts. I know I am not only nowhere near being an expert,but have been repeatedly nominated for messed up parent of the year.
Enjoy! And keep in mind….they all leave home eventually.

Split Ends

i know
you think i cry
too often
      for
          too long
                 over
                      too little
it isn't you
or anything you've done
it's just that
sometimes
when i cry
i go back
and i lose everything
i ever lost....again
i cry for my dead dog
              lost friends
                    grandma
                             and gene
it isn't you
it's just my beginnings
crashing into my endings
it's Jaron's voice
and Ricky's face
when they say
"mommy,we love you"

March 3,1996

Crybaby

According to one of my 475 followers this Blog thing is supposed to be a daily thing. Who knew. (Yes,I know there are only actually two people following my blog but 475 sounds way better....so I'm going with that) So I suppose I will have to start taking this "requirement" a little more seriously. With that in mind.....here are a few things I have written on the backs of whatever source of paper I could get my hands on at various times and locations. In the car waiting for someone after practice, in the lobby of the YMCA or doctor's office,etc. Anywhere and everywhere. Some are old, some are new. All are from me. And from time to time I will even throw in one of my poems. Hope you enjoy.........


(written Saturday,November 6,2010 in the lobby of the YMCA waiting for Lily's dance class to end)

I cried. No great revelation or surprise. I cry. It's what I do. I'm a crier. Not at the drop of a hot but certainly more easily and often than I would like.
So-I cried.
I cried for my friend who's son was senselessly shot and killed. I cried for myself because with his death I relived Chloe and Zoe's.
I cried for the woman on Dr. Phil (don't judge me!) who got to openly confront and espew her heart to the cheating coward she was married to. Because I've been there,too..
And then....I cried for myself.
For the goals I haven't achieved.
For the dreams I haven't realized.
For the pain I have endured,the losses I have survived and for the sorrow I carry.
I cried for missing the chance to raise my children who were taken much too soon.
I cried for the years I didn't get to spend with the most amazing grandmother who ever lived.
I cried for the father I will never meet.
I cried for the loss of the life I thought I would have.
And then...I sobbed.
I sobbed for the blessings. Blessings God has given me in spite of my flaws and undeserving soul.
I sobbed for the blessings of having a mother who would and has walked through fire for me.
I sobbed for the blessings of having been given six of the most incredible,amazingly beautiful children a mother could ever ask for.
I sobbed for the blessings of having experienced the all-encompassing unconditional love of a phenomenal man at least once in my life when so many never truly have.
I sobbed for the blessings of being able to stand, walk and experience LIFE on a daily basis.
I sobbed for the blessings of all of my senses being intact so that I am able to fully enjoy the sights,sounds,smells and flavors of this world that so many take for granted.
I sobbed......for the blessings of being......me.

Cleaning House

So I cleaned my house this past week. The entire house. Every room. Every shelf. Every closet.
Ah...yes....the closets.
I can't tell you just how many trash bags full of no longer needed items there were but the people at Goodwill were only too happy to remove them from my sadly overwhelmed trunk. No doubt some of those items will become someone else's treasure very soon and that makes me feel good inside. There were household items, clothes , linens, toys ,books and even a bike and speakers. Most were more than easy to bag up and hand off to the next person. Most. Not all. Some were harder to part with. Some were almost impossible to even take out of the closet to begin with. Some were like parting with a loved one. Because in some sense that is exactly what I was doing.
Cleaning out closets has never been especially difficult for me. It's simple,really. I take a bag and grab anything and everything that hasn't seen daylight in the last 2 or 3 months. All those "as soon as I lose 10 pounds it'll fit" items and the "someday I'll be able to wear that again" pieces are the first to go because let's be honest....I'll just go shopping at some point and replace them anyway so it isn't like I will miss them at all. And then there are the items that were hanging in the center of my closet.This section of clothing is different. This section is filled with more than just clothes. It's filled with shattered hopes and dreams and broken "what if's".
In the center of my closet hung the clothes I bought one day long ago. It seems at times as if it were a lifetime ago, maybe even someone else's lifetime. But it wasn't. It was mine. It still is. These were the clothes that were going to "grow with me" as my belly continued to expand - proof of the two tiny lives that were growing within. These were the clothes that would carry my through my nine months and then remain a part of my "after" wardrobe while I worked to be comfortable, care for my two new tiny people and attempted to hide the damage from all those months of "eating for three"! These are the clothes that have reminded me every day for three years that my belly never fully expanded, that those two tiny lives never finished growing and that the "damage" was never fully realized. At least not physically. Not as I had planned. Not at all. Yet these were the clothes I couldn't bring myself to part with.
Until now.
I'm not sure why I couldn't part with them before. And I'm not really sure why I was able to this time. That's the thing about losing a child (or children)......nothing you think, feel or do makes any sense or follows any logical thought pattern to anyone other than another parent who has lost a child. There are no reasonable explanations for why we hold onto the things we do or why we don't cling to others. There is no sense in when and where we lose control of our emotions or how we are able to maintain it. Our actions don't make sense. Quite simply-our lives no longer make sense. Because losing a child DOESN'T MAKE SENSE.
And so, I cleaned my house. All of it. Every closet. And I said goodbye,again......because with every turn of every corner in the journey we take after losing a child it seems there is another something to say to goodbye to that takes us back to the day we said our ultimate,our hardest,our most painful goodbye.