Laughter

Today I spent my lunch hour doing some last minute birthday shopping for Monkey. I can't believe my baby is going to be 3. It blows my mind to think of how the time has passed. It has been hard, but I never could have imagined how much I love that little boy.

My phone rang breaking my thoughts of choo choo train cakes and Tonka trucks. I didn't recognize the number, which normally would lead me to silence the ringer and let it go to voice mail. For some reason, I answered. It was the pastor from the church M and I attempted to attend at the end of our crumbling marriage. He wanted to invite us to join a couple's group. I am pretty sure God has a twisted sense of humor. He caught me off guard and I just blurted out that we were divorced. There was a short silence, but he recovered pretty quickly and asked if I was okay. I gave my standard answer of people make bad decisions, which is universal for my husband is a cheating bastard. He understood immediately and even asked about it without flinching. Did I cry? No, I laughed. He must think I am an insane woman. I laughed because if I didn't I was sure I would lose it in the middle of that store and I refuse to let M have that kind of power over me.

I actually enjoyed the conversation. He invited me back to church and to meet with me if I wanted. The idea is somewhat intriguing as I find myself at a crossroads with my faith. I must believe as I know one day I will be reunited with my sweet Noah, but I don't understand why my children and myself must suffer so much. Maybe instead of the sick sense of humor, this was God's way of leading me back? I guess I believe in signs. I just don't seem to stop long enough to see them. When things settle down, it is on my list. Maybe I will find my faith and just a little bit of peace.

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I took Monkey today for what was supposed to be an eye exam with our EI services, but instead turned out to be just a lot of waiting. The appt was rescheduled after we waited for quite some time. During this time, a woman and her little girl sat down next to us. I was glued to that little girl. I couldn't quit staring, imagining. She is a twin. She wasn't supposed to survive until birth. She is a few months younger than Noah and Monkey. She like Noah has hydrocephalus and many other issues. All I could see was what could have been if I had been able to keep him alive just awhile longer. She was playing with her Mama and had just learned to crawl. It took all of my power to not say something to her Mom or not to break out in tears. If I could have kept him here, I would have fought like hell to give him a good life. I know that was not in the cards for us, but I still look at her in amazement and wonder what it would have been like.

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Tomorrow is the day. At 8:02 and 8:03, my life changed. At that moment I felt true love for the first time in my life. I knew my purpose. I was to love and mother those beautiful boys. Birthdays are so bittersweet. Monkey and I spending the day just him and I. We will have his beloved "cake cakes" for breakfast, play in the park, and visit his sweet little brother. I know a tear or two will fall, but it is okay as Monkey and I will laugh together as we remember Noah. Noah is in heaven, whole and happy. He is looking down on us and I hope he is smiling and proud of Monkey and I. I hope he knows I carry him in my heart and always will. I can't believe it has been three years.

Smoke

I saw it as I was leaving work today. The black smoke trailing in a thin line up into the sky. I do my best everyday not to take that street. I can't drive by it. Thinking about it makes me sick. Seeing that smoke and realization of what it was made me come undone.

As I looked, all I could see was his face the last time I held him in the hospital before the man from the mortuary took him away. I remember burying my face in his neck trying to inhale his sweet smell one last time. Then all I could see was fire and him. What the hell was I thinking? It wasn't a choice. No mother should choose how her child will be laid to rest. I never really considered the process. I don't think my mind could wrap around it at the time.

I watched the smoke and thought about how that was someone else's loved one. With a few tears and a silent prayer, I drove by trying desperately to conjure up some other image of my sweet Noah.

Lost

I'm so lost these days. I am torn between my old life I miss and trying to find some meaning in this new one. I know I can make the choice to make my situation different, yet I can't shake the anger, sadness, and fear. I am trying with all my might to make a life for Monkey and I, but I just can't seem to let it all go. I can't accept that Monkey will grow up like this. I don't understand how this happened. I went to bed one night a happy pregnant girl and woke up a broken, grief stricken old woman.

During the day when I am busy, I think I can do this. Then I am all alone and the truth of it all begins to creep in. How did he just walk away and give up so easily? Why move us from our home and tell me he wanted another baby to just walk away a month later? It seems like I should have come to terms with all of this by now. Hell, he is at home rocking his new son. That should have been my son, not hers. How did I not know he hated me? Was I so wrapped up in my grief and Monkey that I couldn't see it. I trusted him. I believed in him. He took what was left of my faith and ripped it to pieces. How did he do this to me and to Monkey?

I think I am grieving for Monkey. This is not the life I dreamed of for him. I know I can't undo what has happened, but I am not sure how to make it okay either. I hate M for taking my living son from me. I know that he is mine most of the time, but I didn't choose to not have him with me. M walked away from him. Why does he and his new "girlfriend" get to have him at all? They could have cared less how this affected Monkey while they were making their "mistakes". She is a gold digging whore. She could give a shit less about my son. How can he let her be around him? It is making me crazy. I can't shake the thoughts of them playing house and pretending like what they have done is okay. I don't know how to accept that she will soon be a part of Monkey's life. How do I accept that? She destroyed his family (along with M). It seems like the courts give her a right to be with him over my right as his mother to protect him. It is all so fucked up.

I can't sleep at night. I wake up in the darkness after dreams of him and her. It's like I can't turn the thoughts off. I don't know how to recover from this betrayal and loss. I am treading water with all of my might, but I can't make sense of losing my son and then my family. I just can't find the meaning to my life. I get up each morning and try desperately to show Monkey that we will be fine. I play with him, love him, and try to enjoy each moment but those horrible feelings keep creeping in. Will I ever feel happy again? I am afraid I don't know how. They were my life and now it is gone. Monkey is my life now and what if I am failing? What if he leaves me in the end too?

It's Coming...

I haven't felt much like writing lately. Maybe I am just tired of thinking about things or maybe it is that the fall season is approaching. With the cooler temps and school starting, I remember my anticipation of the boys arrival.

Today was our first trip to the hospital with a medical emergency in my pregnancy. Today could have been their birthday, but my body decided to behave and they remained safely inside for a few more weeks. I can't believe it has been three years. Monkey is more little boy than baby and my sweet Noah is still the same beautiful 3 month old he will forever be. I can feel it. It is starting.

I keep telling myself this year I will celebrate Monkey's birthday without tears. I know it won't happen, but I am hoping to celebrate my boys and not mourn our losses. Noah is forever etched in my soul along with my grief and pain, but this year I will smile and remember his sweet baby smell and his snuggles. This year will be different.

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...

I Need To Say It

or maybe scream it.

My baby is dead.

I need to talk about him. I need to say his name and share his story. I need to just be able to make him real. I want to feel him on my chest and smell his baby smell. I need him and his strength.

I feel like my grief for Noah got put on the back burner while I dealt with M and my dissolving marriage. I couldn't handle both. I couldn't feel that much grief and survive. It is still here. I find it is starting to creep in to all of my thoughts again. I caught myself talking about him today and I know that I just needed to say his name out loud. I needed him to exist today. I don't know that it even mattered to me if anyone listened. I justed needed to say it.

I hold enough grief to last a lifetime plus a few more. I don't want to be the victim and say why me, but why me? Why my son and then my marriage? How is this my life? How do I move on when I have lost so much? When does the pain subside?

The last few weeks have been unbearable. I put on my fake smile for the day, but I am exhausted from all of this effort and the raging insomnia. I just want to lie down to sleep and actually sleep. I can't take the horrible images of losing Noah and my cheating ex-husband. I know it is all part of the process, but I have to function. I have no choice, but to get up each morning, take care of Monkey, and go to work. I can't do that and fall apart at the same time.

The weight of carrying this is crushing me. I don't remember how it feels to be happy and relaxed. The tension in my shoulders is permanent. I feel and look like hell. What I really need is someone to just hold me and let me cry. I need to fall apart and not be so damn alone. I miss and crave human touch. I just need that shoulder to lean on. Losing Noah was isolating, but current events have made it that much worse. It is very lonely in dead baby, cheating husband land. I really, really hate it here.

Wishing and hoping for sleep and maybe just a glimmer of happiness.

I gave...

My number to a boy.

What the hell was I thinking?

I feel like I am 15 again. Come to think of it, that was about the last time I did such a thing.

I am so not ready for this. I don't know how. I don't even know what I want.

Really, what was I thinking!?