Moving on...

Days like this I wonder if this fight is worth fighting. In my gut, I know that I am trying to do the right thing. I know my direction gets skewed from time to time by hurt and anger. I have been betrayed by the person who now tells me to "trust" him when it comes to my only living child. I do try to shake that off and keep trudging on.

It doesn't help when Monkey talks about him constantly. He typically just keeps asking when his Dad is getting him. I know he misses him and I realize that by not seeing him all of the time, he is all the more appealing. At times, I feel like I am letting Monkey down. I know I am distracted and sometimes inpatient. Let's be honest that is sometimes just life with a three year old, but I feel guilty for the brief moments I stop and think about my lost marriage or when something reminds me of a time in life when I was free and happy. There are many times each day that a conversation or a picture takes me back when I am least expecting it. It sucker punches me and it takes me a few minutes to refocus on "this" life. I wonder if Monkey would be happier with M. He is happy and living his new life with no regrets. Monkey got me, who loves him more than life, but he also got the me who gets sucked into my grief from time to time. He gets me who doesn't seem to know how to feel happy. I just want so much for him and I am really struggling to find my place in this world of single mothers. Great, another fucking club I didn't ask to join. So where do I find my place in the dead baby, single mom because my husband decided to screw a whore club? Sorry, I know not a good attitude. I just can't help it sometimes.

I wake up each day and tell myself to start over. Smile, hug Monkey, and hope something good happens. By the end of the day, I am tired and beaten down. Moving on is so fucking hard. I don't love him anymore, but I guess I do love the person I married. I am finding it difficult to get over the betrayal. I think I would like to meet someone, but I honestly don't know how to let anyone into my world. I can't take anymore heartache and loss. Anyways, I would scare the shit out of some poor guy. Taking that step to actually go on a date or even consider it is terrifying. The rejection will kill me. I'm also afraid of settling for the first good thing (not that my options are huge) just because I am so fucking tired of being alone.

I miss just having someone there. Someone to talk to or just sit next to and watch TV. I miss the security of knowing someone will be there when I get home from work. I hate to admit it, but I kind of miss being at my parents. It was nice to have someone to talk to. The silence feels like it is going to swallow me here. There at least I wasn't alone.

It is all just overwhelming at times. I forgot to go get Monkey's medicine from the pharmacy. It just about put me in tears. I have no help and I just can't seem to remember it all. I know he is fine and I can get it tomorrow, but I am failing at being supermom. I feel like I am trying to overcompensate for all of the shortcomings I can't seem to control. I just want to be a good Mom. I want to be happy and feel joy. I want to feel something besides empty.

Okay

Monkey woke early this morning. I could hear him in his room whining, almost on the verge of tears. I went to get him and brought him back to bed for some snuggle time. He burrowed in the pillows and then looked at me totally serious.



"Mama, Noah is happy now. Please change my diaper."



I whispered, "Thank you Noah". A little weight lifted knowing my sweet boy is okay. Crazy or not, these are my signs and I believe he is letting me know he is with Monkey and I.

"I love you Monkey. Yes, I will change your diaper."

What a perfect start to the day...

Crying

I love rocking Monkey to sleep. Some nights he just wants to cuddle. Others he wants to talk or read books. Tonight he wanted "Night, night prayers".

Monkey's version of prayers is a long series of thank you's for all things he loves. Some nights they are silly. He is often thankful for his stuffed, blue puppy or his big Tonka truck. Tonight, he was more serious, almost reflective if possible for a three year old.

His little, squeaky voice said...

"Dear God...

Dank you for my new house. My puppy. Dank you for Mima and Papa. Dank you for Noah..."

I always smile when he remembers his sweet brother.

"He crying, Mama."

It took me a second to realize he was talking about Noah. It gives me goosebumps when Monkey says things like that. I wish I could know what was running through that little mind of his.

"Monkey, he isn't crying. He is in heaven dancing and looking down on us. He is happy and knows that we love him." I wipe away a tear...

"I miss him."

"I miss him too. Mama misses him too."

It is so hard to stop the tears. To be so young and yet to know so much loss.

I often wonder if I have made Noah too much a part of our lives, but how can I not? He is Monkey and Monkey is Noah. They are connected by something that I cannot begin to understand or question. I know their souls are intertwined.

When Monkey wonders about his baby brother, I just tell him about those precious moments of them together. I hug him tight and remind him how much Noah and I love him.

Monkey is an amazing child. I am so blessed.

Relief

I want to feel something, anything than this weight I carry. I am tired. I want to stand in the sunshine and feel its warmth on my face. I want to feel free and happy just for a few moments. I can't remember the last time I felt that way. I just need some relief from this never ending sadness and loneliness.

I don't know how to reach out to those around me. I just need a shoulder to lean on when things get tough. I feel weak and ashamed. My life is a disaster and on the outside it looks as if I am picking up the pieces, but the inside is a gutted mess. I don't even know how to talk to people anymore. I don't know anything but sadness and survival. They talk about the usual random things and I have to resist the urge to scream out that my son is dead and my husband is a cheating bastard. They don't want to know and let's be real, it is humiliating to admit that I wasn't worth more than his two dollar whore. They don't understand the depths of my grief and anger. They can't see the little moments of hope. It is all there behind my forced smile that is trying to hide that fact that I am horribly uncomfortable. What the hell is wrong with me?

I need to know that it is okay that I cringe every time Monkey asks me if his "Daddy is picking him up". He is but a baby and doesn't know of his father's true nature. He loves him and so desperately wants his love. I want my baby to be happy, but I really hate his father. I bite my lip and tell him yes or no. I always acknowledge, but my insides are screaming profanity laced words. It stings to hear him speak of the man who chose to sleep around with his "girlfriend" while Monkey was so ill and needed him. I can't forget that and never will. M has totally let go of any guilt he feels towards his son. I guess that lets him sleep at night. I feel that I am the bad person, that I have done something wrong. I did what I was supposed to. When do I quit paying the price for his choices? I tried with all my might to do what was best for Monkey. When does this fucking nightmare get better?

I never realized being alone is so exhausting. I just want to be held. To feel that safety of knowing that someone loves you and thinks you are worth something. I feel like a worthless failure. I know that I have to find me in all of this. I have to love me in order to take the best care of Monkey I can. I am trying, but I still can't shake this. I can't let it go. My heart is broken and I am not sure there is anyway to repair it. Maybe I will always be broken and alone. Maybe it is that I need to make peace with. Maybe this is all I get. How do I learn to be happy and content when so much is missing? I love Monkey with all of heart and he does make me happy, but the void is always there. The little voice telling me that so many things are missing is always whispering in my ear. Even in the brief moments of happiness, it creeps in and steals away a piece of the moment.

Random Thoughts

Life has gotten crazy around here. Moving is hard work. I really forgot how much I hate unpacking. In my state of hatred and disgust, I must have taken everything in our house just so he couldn't have it. Bad choice. I have discovered, I don't want it. None of it. I don't want anything in this house to remind me of him. I hear EBay calling my name or maybe just a huge garage sale this spring. May as well make some money off these bad memories.

___________________________________________

I have been thinking about Noah a lot these days. New beginnings really make me think of all that I have said goodbye to. I am hung up on one thought though. He died in my arms twice. He died and my breath brought him back to only kill him in the end. I don't understand why I could him life one last time to only have him taken a few short days later.

I miss him.

Why can't I feel him anymore?

Please say hello to your Mama or just send me a sign through Monkey.

I am tired and overwhelmed. I need you strength and love.

I love you Noah.

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.

________________________________________

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.

_________________________________________

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.