I just didn't really believe it would happen

I spent months waiting, crying, and praying that life as I knew it wasn't coming to an end. I held onto Monkey and the memories of my life with my best friend. I knew I was losing my grasp as each day pasted and nothing happened.

The truth is if he had wanted to work it out, we would have soon after he left for his "weekend" away. He was done and yet wasn't man enough to just tell me. Instead he moved us from our home and told me he wanted a baby. The one thing I had dreamed of since my boys were born. He knew what he was doing, yet I held onto hope that it was all a bad dream. I believed he loved me. I believed he would come home.

I sit here today still in disbelief that this has happened. He is gone. He has a new family now. One built on deceit and infidelity. There is a new baby tonight who is in the NICU and I find myself taken back to that little dark room with Noah. Holding onto my newborn son praying that he would live. His new son will be okay. Mine is not. Mine is gone. It may be a hint of jealousy, but more it just brought new waves of grief to knock me down. He realized my dreams, just with someone else.

All I can do is hold onto Monkey and pray to a God who hasn't pulled through so much for me that our lives will get better. I pray that the hole in my heart will at least heal over enough to make this pain bearable. I miss my son, my life, and even the person who tore it all apart. I am living for Monkey because he deserves the world. I will give it to him.

The final blow...

The "mistake" has arrived. I am pretty sure the news ripped the newly formed scabs off of my heart. The knife turned just a little more in my back.

I knew it was going to happen. It's not like this took me by surprise, yet I still find myself broken and sobbing in front of Noah's grave. I don't know why I think going there will offer some peace. Even there is M's name etched forever on his headstone. It is there screaming at me. Reminding me that I failed as a mother, a friend, and a wife. I can't seem to stop his voice that runs through my head telling me that I am fat and not good enough. I hear him telling me over and over that he doesn't love me.

I am trying so hard to do what is right by Monkey and move on. I just feel stuck. My heart is broken and I feel pretty worthless right now. I am alone and scared to death. I can't do this alone. What if I fail? I have tried so hard to keep my composure and do what was needed. I don't feel any better. I honestly just want to feel happy for just a second. Just to remind me what it was like. I hate being alone. M hated that about me. Guess leaving was a great way to rub that in. I survived and I am proud that I have, but how do I keep this up when my insides are screaming? The hurt never stops and I am tired of willing myself to get up each morning. I sob through my shower and then compose myself and start my day. It is exhausting.

It all just seems so wrong and fucked up right now. I am trying to believe it will get better. It just doesn't feel like it.

Courage does not always roar. Sometimes it is a quiet voice at the end of the day, saying…"I will try again tomorrow." ~Mary Anne Radmacher

Can it just be the tiny voice left inside of me, telling me to get out of bed? Is it the same little voice who fights through the tears and hopelessness to get dressed, get Monkey ready, and make it to work?

It has been a long few days. I can't say that anything has happened to make them so bad. I think it is just part of the process. I think it is the dread of what is to come. It seems I would be an expert in this thing called grief. I should know to expect the good days mixed in with the bad. I forgot how bad the bad ones are.

There has been a shift. I can fall asleep now, but now I wake up about 5:30 am from the most horrible dreams of being told I am not wanted and unloved. I begin thinking about my old life and how safe it felt to wake up with my best friend beside me. Now I wake up with the tape running in my head of how shitty this all is. I remember that I have to face another day alone and that it is one more day stuck in this nightmare that is my life.

I am sorry for ranting about this. I am even tired of my own thoughts and of being so sad. I don't even want to hear this story anymore. I feel like that person who refuses to move on. I am trying, but I am failing miserably. I tell myself each day that I am going through these motions in order to build my new life. It just seems to be happening so slowly.

I left for lunch today having avoided tears at lease a handful of times. Once I got in my car, the dam broke and I couldn't stop it. I haven't cried like that in a long time. I cried for my loneliness, my heartbreak, and my lost son. I want to be happy, but it just feels so out of reach. I actually wonder if I remember what it feels like to be happy.

I am praying that the quiet voice can become a roar and I will find my footing. I hope to find some inner peace that will guide my actions and help me make the right choices. So much is riding on how I make my way out of this. When I think of courage, I think of the strong, stoic hero. I am just asking for the courage to handle this with grace and be a person that my sons will be proud of. I don't need to be a hero. I just need to survive these moments when all seems lost. My courage may have failed me today, but I will try again tomorrow...

I Can Feel Him

Monkey and I visited the butterfly garden where Noah's tree is planted...

Such beauty....

I can feel his smile...

Monkey can feel his loving arms wrapped around him...

I am so grateful for these precious moments with my boys...

He knows we are here missing him and loving him...

We can feel his love...