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It's just a crib...

Today was one of those hard ones.  A test in letting go (as if I really need more experience with THAT one!!).  I loaded up CJ's crib and dropped it off to be made into a different piece of furniture for our home.  I managed to make it all of the way home before tears just couldn't be held back.

I really believe in sharing my journey, so I posted about it.  And as always, the support warmed my heart!  But 2 messages had me pondering assumptions.  So while I know in my heart I owe no explanations on how and what I do to heal, I want to set the record straight. 

Repurposing CJ's crib was not a declaration that there will never be another baby in our home.  It's significance is really simple- a crib set up in our home is difficult for all of us, but packing it away is even harder.  I spent a lot of time thinking/praying on what to do.  My heart told me what I already knew.  No baby could ever replace our sweet Christian. And no baby should ever be in his shadow.  We should all live in his light.  In my heart I know I could never put my own child or even future grandchild in his crib without it be horribly painful.  My decision was very easy- just as I would do with any piece of furniture I love, it needs a new purpose.  I will share pictures when it is returned.

Living under a magnifying glass tends to walk hand in hand with losing a child.  With an abundance of support comes a few preying eyes.  Please do not assume that any part of my family's journey is over.   We waited many years to be blessed with CJ and we simply are open to whatever possibilities happen for us.   I am searching for ways to keep him not only in our hearts, but part of our every day lives.  A dream was not traded in today.  Simply a crib.

Giggles to migraines

I'm trying to decide if I hit a big emotional speedbump yesterday, or simply had a migraine on a stormy day.

Family parties are stressful and typically avoided.  But to my surprise I was really looking forward to seeing family this weekend.  I enjoyed shopping for a gift and looked forward to laughter and chatting.

And everything seemed like it was going well. We were off on our own (which is normal for this family group) laughing with our kids and visiting with a few family members.  As the moments ticked by, I caught a few glances, a few hands placed uncomfortably on my shoulder, and eventually a few heads together whispering while looking in my direction. Yet nobody was asking how I really was.  Nobody said CJ's name.  My neck started to become indescribably hot as a crazy thunderstorm swept in.  My blood pressure because to rise and my eyesight strained.  Eventually panicked started to set in as the pain began to tighten across my forehead.  It was like having a metal band across my forehead that was being tightened slowly.

My husband and kiddos agreed to leave without a fight.  I remember getting into the car, but the next thing I remember is waking up around 3am fully clothed in bed.  I changed and drank the large soda left for me by sweet kiddos and went right back to sleep.  This lasted 18 hours.

Today was spent being mom.  Cooking a big dinner, playing cards with the family, and even feeding drop in boyfriends (of the girls' of course!).  But I have to wonder, almost with embarrassment, what happened to me yesterday.  One giant step backwards, our simply a migraine from crazy summer weather?

Some answers I will never truly have answered.  Some days will always be harder than others.  Yet somehow knowing that tomorrow is another chance for healing gives me hope.  Hope that the laughter that echoed through the house as we dove for spoons while playing cards somehow balances out the days when I need to crawl into my cave for 18 hours.

Wishing all my fellow answer seekers the ability to put those thoughts aside and rest.  Or even better, laugh!   #doitforcj

Icky emotions and stuff...

As CJ's 1 year angelversary starts to get close, I'm finding myself battling an entirely new wave of grief.  I won't pretend that this pain has eased, but with time it has become less stabbing for most of the day. Every day is a crap shot.  My trusty sunglasses are always on top of my head just in case tears are triggered.  I am a master of escape-quietly finding an exit until I can pull myself together.

But with a date looming in the air, I find myself being caught off guard more and more.  As the months have dragged by my support system has gotten on with their lives.  Nobody can blame them.  The expectation that I would do the same seems to be contagious. CJ is mentioned less with every visit.  Phrases like "moving on" or "getting over it" are casually bounced around me- never said out of malice, but as a way for people to nudge me to make things more comfortable for them.

With all of this pressure for me to act "normal", feeling a new wave of sadness, regrets, and loss is overwhelming.  More than ever the desire to hide my true feelings has me plastering the pleasant smile I was taught as a child to wear.  Smile, be pleasant, and make others around me impressed by my behavior.  Lessons drilled into me as my mom would be pulling my hair into perfect piggytails before family gatherings.  Some lessons are hard to unlearn.

So beware.  There are those awkward tears and feelings that seem to make everyone uncomfortable looming behind my sunglasses.  I'm juggling my desire to people please and being true to this journey.  I'm sure both will surface in no particular order.

Maybe my honesty will inspire you to call that person you know who has struggles.  Be kind by allowing them to act however they need to at that moment.  Find your inner middleschool self.  Remember that hot mess?  What we did best at that age was feel everything emotionally and react with unsensored honesty.  How incredible would it be to bless a grown adult with the opportunity to just release all of those emotions?  Bring tissues ;)
#doitforcj

Redefining homesick

So many simple words that I thought I understood how to define have evolved to completely different meanings.  Case in point, "homesick".

There is this ache that follows me.  On days when I'm alone, or surrounded by my beautiful family something is always missing.  It would make sense to say someone.  But in reality, having CJ with us would change our lives in so many ways.

Our daily rhythm of coming and going about our day could never work with an infant.  The simplicity of walking out the door at a moments notice, our nightowl summer antics, and lazy summer days sleeping in.  Every single self indulgent moment of independence that parents wait endless years to enjoy are the moments our household looked forward to changing.  

I've spent a lot of time thinking about this ache today.  The conclusion I've come to is I am terribly homesick.  Comical for someone who has moved as much as I have in my lifetime!  To me, home is a feeling, not a place.  My heart had prepared a huge space for our little boy.  Home will always be where I live my life with Nate and our four children physically present to love and live with.  CJ's absence is not something that can be replaced or changed. My heart aches for my home.  A place I will never be blessed to live in during this life on earth.

Homesick.  So so very homesick...

Faking it

I wake up every morning and he's the first thing I think of.  Every single morning.  Some days it's as if I am midnightmare-tears running down my cheeks and not sure if the dream. or reality is worse.  I wash my face and pull it together before heading down for coffee.

I fake my way through good morning greetings. Quietly I look at my day and pray that anything on the calender can be skipped.  While I desperately miss social outings, they are more exhausting than fun now.  If CJ was just acknowledged, I could wipe a few tears then move on.  But his name is rarely said without my propting by anyone outside of our walls.  So I fake it. A bit of sarcasm goes a long way in distracting people from the pain in your eyes.  Whatever it take, yet all my souls screams for is to simply hear his name. 

Dinner chaos usually involves various extra bodies swarming around a pot of something soul nurturing.  They laugh, tease, and call me mom. I smile and fake a carefree existence.  They couldn't possibly understand my haunts.

And eventually, after faking it all day long my exhausted body falls into bed with my mind speed racing through every emotion I felt all day but suppressed.   Faking it no longer works.  For hours I sob into my pillow or lock myself in the bathroom.  Sitting on the front steps at 3am in my pjs is completely normal.

Nobody has asked me why I'm crying in almost 11 months.  Considering the bags under my eyes and the lack of eyelashes, that's quite a lot of crying. 

A year is quickly approaching.  It hurts horribly.  Faking it is getting to be too exhausting.  So expect lots of tears over the next few weeks.  Hang in there while I relive those last few days I felt those tender kicks.  Allow me the gift of hearing you speak my son's name.  And I'll do my best to keep faking it until it comes naturally. But for now, I need to find a box of tissues as tonight's evening addition of my waterworks is already catching up with me...  praying for sweet dreams! 

#doitforcj

change...

Change is terrifying.  It used to thrill me.  Anyone who has known us through the years has seen us move at the drop of a hat.  I can pack a 4 bedroom home in the matter of days, and unpack it even quicker.   I love to explore a new home.  Finding the perfect place for a family picture, wondering where a nick in a door frame came from, and eventually putting the finishing touch on a room to make it look as if we had been there for years.  It comes easily to me- adapting to new color schemes or architectural styles.  I soak up decorating sights.  Repurposing furniture brings me a sense of satisfaction.  I love the puzzled look as someone notices a dresser that was once in a bedroom placed in an entryway with new knobs.  Or an afternoon spray painting my newest roadside/garage sale find.  For me, a house is a home when people walk in the front door and feel at peace.  Surrounded by our favorite reminders of adventures and times together.  The address means very little to me.

So it should be no great surprise that we are ready to redefine home once again.  Our current home was chosen particularly for a life we daydreamed for, but was swept out from under us.  We moved in just in time to decorate a nursery and begin to baby proof.  A baby shower was thrown in the back yard overlooking the pond.  Yet eventually the house was filled with flowers and sympathy notes.  The nursery and abundance of items gleefully placed in every nook a reminder of a plan.  A plan that we thought we were promised by a positive pregnancy test, making it to the half way mark, and joyously celebrating just 2 more weeks until CJ joined us.  At home.  This house to be specific.

Change is in the air my friends.  And with the decision to make a change has come a bit of peace for all the sweet inhabitants within these walls.  CJ will be with us wherever we are.  For now, I'm tackling a stack of cardboard with a hopeful heart.  Our adventures are far from over....

#doitforcj