it's all just too much

I'm so tired. I'm tired to my very bones. I have even thought perhaps I should go see a doctor and find out what is the matter........why am I soooo tired. But I know. I know the reasons. I can list them off

1. too much weight

2. work

3. going to school

4. running from one sporting event to another for Eric, Murray and my stepson

5. worry about my step son who is in a "time out house"

6. the ever present booming sound of my biological clock ticking

7. my sleep apnea is killing me

8. welcome back to the evening and middle of the night panic attacks

9. the pressure of being a wife and mother and all those titles bring with them

10.the grief the grief the grief

I could sit here and list at least 20 more reasons but those are the biggies. I am so tired and it's making me thin skinned (not thin of course, just thin skinned which sucks), grouchy, edgy and judgmental. I am not enjoying this version of me.

Something has to give.

The brick in my pocket

I have been thinking alot lately about where I am in this whole grief process. About where do I go from here. I think alot of it has to do with we are the senior members of our Pregnancy and Newborn Loss support group. And being the senior member of this doesn't feel so good. Most of the other couples/women who came along shortly after we started going have either gotten pregnant or decided to back off from going to group so that they could focus on having another baby, or adoption, or IVF. But I just keeeeep going. Thursday after Thursday after Thursday. And I feel it still does me good, it is sooo good to talk about Cayden, his birth, my feelings about him etc. because it does seem like there isn't that many opportune times to talk about him without the silent waaaaah waaaaah (that is supposed to be the Debbie Downer noise) playing in everyones head. I know it's playing in their heads, because I can see it on their faces. So strange, because a women in my circle of friends just had a baby, so it sparks the conversations about pregnancy, delivery etc. And I have stories. I have Murrays stories and I have Caydens stories. They are different stories, just as any women with 2 children would have different birth stories. And I feel like I am in a spot that I can share those stories, without crying. I can talk about the c-section I had with Cayden and it a part of his birth story, because he WAS born. But as surely as I am typing this I feel the sharp intake of breath, and feel the "oh shit, she is talking about her dead baby. how do we respond to this? ". So back to my original point, I do love my group for the fact that I can unapologetically talk about my son and tell his stories over and over and over and nobody is put off. In fact I'm supposed to tell his stories, I'm told it's part of the healing process. And matter of fact I feel pretty f*cking good about how far we have come in the last 18 months. It has been one hell of a journey and we have put in the work. Yeah work. It has been hard, tear filled, heartbreaking, exhausting work to get to this place where I think it might be time to pull back from our group a bit. So maybe it is time to pull back a bit and put the focus on moving forward, trying in earnest for a baby that "we get to take home" as Murray puts it.

I also went to see the movie Rabbit_Hole. It is about a couple whose 4 year old son is hit and killed by a car and how they deal or don't deal with their grief. The grandmother had also lost a son at 30 years old from a Heroin overdoes, but at one point they have a discussion:

Becca: Does it ever go away?
Nat: No, I don’t think it does. Not for me, it hasn’t -- has gone on for eleven years. But it changes though.
Becca: How?
Nat: I don’t know… the weight of it, I guess. At some point, it becomes bearable. It turns into something that you can crawl out from under and… carry around like a brick in your pocket. And you… you even forget it, for a while. But then you reach in for whatever reason and -- there it is. Oh right, that. Which could be aweful -- not all the time. It’s kinda… not that you’d like it exactly, but it’s what you’ve got instead of your son. So, you carry it around. And uh… it doesn’t go away. Which is…
Becca: Which is what?
Nat: Fine, actually

I suppose that somehow I am getting closer to the place where I too have a brick I carry around in my pocket. Like it or not, it's what I have. And it's fine actually. Where am I in my grief? I guess it really depends on the day, the amount of sleep I have had, the music I have heard, the number of babies I have ran across, the number of pregnant women I have seen, the number of tv shows with ultrasounds I have watched or if it's a day ending in Y.

Death and the living

I find it very interesting the explanations we come up with for things like death and all that surrounds it for our children.

Murray was 3 we lost Cayden. It was a very difficult thing to explain to him. We were well aware, from all the reading we did, not to tell him that his brother was sleeping, or had gong to sleep for fear that he would never want to go to sleep again. But it was so difficult to explain to this sweet child that his brother would not be coming back, where he was (in Heaven, above the clouds with God), what the memorial service we had for him was (a way for the people who loved him to remember him and celebrate the fact that he did lived and we will always love him), and the most difficult question of why it had happened (we will NEVER have an answer for this one, and we know this in our heads, but our hearts continually search for a reason why as if we too were 4 years old and think that if we just ask the right person in the right way we will get that ever elusive answer). We wanted to badly to soft pedal and make it easier on him during those moments but we also didn't want to give him false hopes or scare him. He asked so many times if we could take a helicopter or plane ride to heaven and see Cayden, and also if God couldn't just let him come back for a visit with us. His early experience with death has lead to endless questions about cemetaries and cremations. My son doesn't hesitate to talk to anyone about his brother, where he is and his feelings about it. I'm sure he has thrown people completely off their game plan when this comes up, but I hope that more often than not he will brush up against people who will let him talk and use his innocent wisdom as a learning/teaching moment.

He also desperately, almost as desperately as I, wants a baby that we get to bring home. "One that doesn't have to go live with God". He knows that I am trying to get healthy. In his innocence he doesn't see that his mama is too fat to get pregnant safely. I have only told him that I need to get healthy so that we can try to get another baby in my tummy. And he in all his wonderfulness tries to support me and help me. I told him we were not going to eat fast food anymore, because it is not healthy for me, and I am really going to try to do this. So today we were in the drive through getting a drink, no food I promise, and he asks me "hey Mama, isn't this a drive thru??". No judgement, just support. Oh if I could only bottle up his support and take it in my moments of weakness.........there is nothing I couldn't achieve.

And another year begins

As the first day of yet another new year without my son begins I find myself reflecting on my year. I was really feeling pouty because I didn't believe there had been any forward progress in my life this year. Nothing financially that's for sure. Eric and I are still barely and I do mean barely holding on financially. I do start a new job on Monday. I will be a Para Professional (which is a fancy shmancy way of saying teacher without any credentials) at my boy Murray's preschool. I am very very excited about this job. It is THE next best thing to being a stay at home mom, which, when I'm being honest, is my true career goal. I will go in a half hour before he has to start school, and he can come with me and hang out until school starts and I will be right across the hall from him, and be able to take him home with me after school. I will only be working 3 and half hours a day and it is literally right around the corner from our home. The women who work there are wonderful and I think it is going to be a great fit. I think I might be a bit more mouthy and colorful than they are used to, but I don't think it will be a problem. Aaaand Eric is going to be trying for an RJ (Real Job) in January. The starting pay is really good and the benefits will be great. Holy crap, you know you are an adult when you start measuring success by benefits. We both have our fingers crossed that this job will pan out. That could actually be the start of some forward momentum for us in the financial department. But back to 2010, there has been no financial forward movement, and from where I was sitting, in the middle of my pity party with all my short comings and failures piled high around me I couldn't see any forward progress anywhere else. I am still fat, the house is still a gigantic mess, we still have entirely too much crap that doesn't fit in this home of ours, and we still don't have any signs of a new baby entering our lives. I suppose that's why we have friends though. They have the ability to see the things we can't. So I have now been made aware that I am raising an amazingly smart, fun and witty little 4 year old who everyone enjoys being around. We have a 16 year old who is finally starting to see his own self worth and potential and I have a relationship with him now that I never dreamed of having. And most importantly Eric and I have done a hell of alot of heart healing and working through our grief. My counselor literally calls it grief work and I know she is right. It has been work. We have not hid or ran from one single emotion or feeling surrounding our Cayden, we faced them all, big or small head on. We felt each and every feeling and emotion, let is wash all over us, and then dealt with it. There still is not a moment that we don't long for him, for what should have been, for what could have been and what is not, but those moments don't bring me to my knees nearly as often as they did a year ago. I can think of him sweetly now and with some joy mixed in with my sorrow and that is due to the work we have put in. So yes, I suppose there has been some forward progress in our lives. And as for you 2011.............I demand that you treat us with the respect we are due.

Thanksgiving

It's Thanksgiving. Yep. While I know I have much to be thankful for, so much and most of the day I appreciate those things. But right now, in the still of the night I'm not feeling thankful, right now I'm feeling ripped off. I'm feeling sad and blue and wishing I had 2 living sons. I'm feeling like I would like to take out an ad, or put a big sign on my front yard that says "I MISS MY SON CAYDEN EVERY MINUTE OF THE DAY. STILL!!!". I feel like there are sooooo many people who don't get that it hasn't gone away, not even a little. I know you all know this feeling. The feeling or look you get when you dare to mention your baby. The feeling of the air being let out of the room. Trouble is the air has been let out of my life, and it hasn't been let back in. Right now I don't sound anything like the thankful woman I have been portraying myself to be on facebook, around the dinner table, at ladies night or anywhere else. So who is the true me? Am I really some bizarre combo of bitter sad and happy thankful woman? Jezuz, no wonder I am tired all the time.

Wave of Light

I hope you felt the love tonight my sweet angel baby boy Cayden. I know I sure felt the love and support from my friends and family.

Walk to Remember

Caydens Mama and Big Daddy

I did the Walk to Remember on Saturday. It was a beautiful warm and sunny morning. Much different than it was last year. Made me sort of look at how many differences there are in my life in the last year. Last years walk there was a blizzard and I felt absolutely compelled to be there. I drove almost 2 hours through snow and ice against the advice of most everyone. I cried from the moment I got there until I left and cried most of the rest of the day. This year I looked forward to it. I cried, don't get me wrong, but my soul wasn't tearing like it did last year. Last year I only knew my immediate family who was there with me. I felt alone and isolated. This year I knew so many of the broken hearted people there. I knew their stories and I felt like I knew their babies. I felt connected to this community of loss. Last year I didn't think I would ever smile again. This year I knew I would. Last year I didn't think I could live with the pain of losing Cayden. This year I know he is near me, and though I will miss him and ache for him and cry for his loss, I know I will live through this.

I know I felt so much more centered because of the love and support I have had from my husband and my other son, from my family and friends, my support group and the many friends I have made there, the people I have met through my journey thus far and my blog friends.