Get out of the damn house!!!

I have my days.  Those days when it's all just too much.  I cry and feel sorry for myself.  I've admitted to losing it in the cemetery and found myself on the ground next to my son singing to him through my tears.  Everyone knows about my sunglasses always propped on my head just in case. 

But one rule I follow is my 24 hour rule.  I must shower and leave the house once every 24 hours. 

This may seem like overkill, but I understand my limits have changed.  If I didn't put in this effort,  I could very easily turn into the crying lump on the couch. 

At first this wasn't easy.  My husband shared something with me weeks later that showed me how well he knows me.  When my doctor agreed to a c-section when I asked,  he gently nudged me towards laboring.   I will never regret going through the process and getting to push CJ'S beautiful body out of mine.  But what I didn't realize at the time was that Nate knew I would need to get out of the house.   Surgery would clip my wings for far longer than I have ever stood still.  That sweet man knew my survival depended on my independence.

Some days I just drive through for coffee or visit CJ. But more often now I'm enjoying my bit of time out of the house.  I still envy every stroller I see and need my emergency shades more than I care to admit.  With every outing I feel stronger to deal with difficult situations.  Nate and our kids are fantastic buffers when my anxiety gets the best of me.

Today my big adventure was driving Nate to work and stopping for dog food. Exciting, I know.   But hang on,  it does get amusing...

Walmart was my big destination. 99 cent DD iced coffee,  grabbed the cattlechow,  and I was ready for some serious isle cruising.  And of course,  my phone rings with a call I need to take.  

I wandered out to the garden center hoping for some privacy.  Bingo! It was empty.   I chatted at first as I pushed my cart in circles.  As the conversation lingered on,  I put my iced coffee down on a sample patio set to adjust the volume on my phone.  Then without thinking I sat down to continue my call.  20 minutes later my feet were up on another chair, tears were streaming down my face,  and I had left a big old water ring from my drink on the table.  As I hung up, I realized I had made myself at home and had to laugh.   As I was getting myself together to go back into the store a woman came around the corner pushing a cart. I smiled and went to walk by her.  She mumbled under her breathe "were you waiting for a refill? ".  She was obviously annoyed.

For once I was struck speachless.  As I went back to isle cruising,  it hit me.   I had gotten my refill. That call was a chance to talk about CJ.  The voice on the other end of the phone was asking me sincere questions about my son and my journey.   My soul was refilled.

Having a crappy day? Get out of the house.  Don't forget your shades.
#doitforcj

A house full of family

What a great day!  A great friend came over with her kiddos (plus a few extra teens were here celebrating Skye's birthday). Hubby working,  9 females,  1 beautiful baby boy,  1 angel boy smiling over all of us, fried pickles, a huge pot of spaghetti and awesome dessert fruit pizza.   Serious giggles and insanity. 

Family

Just a bit before they came over I was on the phone with a very special cousin.  My heart was heavy over some really ridiculous inlaw drama.   She reassured me that it's ok to not to always like everyone you are related to and brought my attention back to how blessed we are with "family".  Blood lines do not define "family". Love does. And we are seriously blessed with an abundance of family related to us and adopted.

So today I looked around at my crowded kitchen full of happy faces and truly felt loved.   Teenagers yelling over eachother,  a baby to pass around, and a sweetheart of a friend agreeing with my behavior even if I could do better.  With her, there is no pressure to be anything less what I am.  

Flawed,  short tempered,  open hearted, miserably optimistic, and often a hot mess! 

But loved.  Very very loved.

Happy birthday to our Skyelar Elizabeth!   Our youngest daughter,  Skye blesses us every day with her huge heart, hysterical sense of humor, and compassion beyond anything I have ever witnessed. 

#doitforcj

Cleaning out closets

I know I'm not alone.   I've held on to bins of clothes that I have come close to on several occasions,  but never fit back into.   Our master closet had become our current clothes hanging,  and 3 times as much in bins. Not anymore.

Contemplating an across county move we hope to make in a few years had me looking around at the amount of stuff stored around the house.  Unless you saw the half of the garage stacked with bins or peeked around in closets, you would never guess. I am the master of making our home always look roomy, and uncluttered to guests. The reality is that there are plastic bins neatly stashed everywhere.  

My closet seemed like a good place to start. NINE large plastic bins were dragged out.  One item at a time, I emptied every one.  It occurred to me that many items are no longer "trendy" enough to even sell.  So I started stacking up donations.

When I was done, there were 3 bins of winter clothes to return to the closet. Everything else was stacked into the van to donate.   6 bins of clothes.  The physical weight was startling. 

Letting it all go has inspired me.   One closet at a time will be weeded out,  except one.   All of CJ'S things are stored in a basement closet.  I'm giving myself permission to skip that one.   You see while some memories are enough to fill the gap of letting go of a dress I wore to a wedding 5 years ago, CJ's things were never touched.
 
No memories were made swaddling him into his blankets.  I never got to hear him have fits while pulling a onsie over his head.   His stacks of overly preppy polos and jeans are completely stain free.  I never changed his footie pjs in the middle of the night.  Without those memories,  I'm not ready to let them go.   They represent every hope, plan, and dream we had for him.  

I'm often asked what I have done with his things.  Well intentioned people have even sent me nudges with suggestions on where to donate those items.   I have calmly ignored comments that "other babies who actually need" these items would be thankful. Our that I wasted energy moving them with us.

So to answer any lingering doubts ...

NOPE.  You do not need to suggest charities that will pick up his things.

Yep.  I'm keeping them.

They aren't being wasted.  They aren't a burden.  They are a very very small tangible reminder we have of our son.

Next time you suggest or volunteer to remove a family's belongings after losing a child,  I want you to think of this- if your house burnt down today,  what would be all that mattered?   That your family got out safely,  right?  Stuff can be replaced, right?   We walked out of the hospital without our child.   We walked out of the fire leaving him behind.   Cut me some slack on the few bins stashed under the basement stairs.

#doitforcj

I can't win...

So by now you would think I would have learned not to expect others to act the way we would like them to.   Often during our journey I'm surprised to see how the very people who love us make choices that are so incredibly hurtful.   Case in point... new babies.

We can't resist them.  Never have been able to,  never will.  We are the aunt/uncle that finds such beauty in every little face.  A sweet bundle in our arms is hard to pass on to the next awaiting arms.   Those who include us in thier lives are guaranteed years of spoiling and love.

To find ourselves the outcasts of the newest family addition breaks our hearts.  First,  a poorly timed pregnancy announcement of an unmarried couple was hard to swallow.  We were just a few months past loosing CJ when it was announced at a Christmas dinner we were hosting.  I couldn't understand why this couldn't be shared with us at another time (not the first Christmas without my son and 20 sets of eyes on me) We had graciously opened our home during the hardest holiday of our lives thinking we would be surrounded by support.   CJ was not acknowledged by anyone,  yet we share gifts in his memory.   It stung.  I vowed to put us first for awhile after feeling completely trampled.

You can only imagine my surprise when I decided I was ready to see pictures of our newest nephew born last month and took to Facebook.   When I couldn't find the "friend", I had my daughter check from a different account.   My husband and I have been blocked.   Not simply unfriended,  blocked. Please feel free to giggle childishly with me.

Normally I would quietly sweep such behavior under the rug.  It's unfortunately common for this corner of the family.  Obviously one fb block would not push me to such extremes- it's simply the icing on the cake.  Instead I'm standing up for MY family.  The 6 beautiful souls that dwell in my home.   We deserve to be loved unconditionally.  We deserve to have our feeling respected.  We deserve time to mourn our son/brother for as long as we need without the burden of foolish drama swirling around us.  We deserve love.

My greatest lessons are often what NOT to do.   Allowing hurtful behavior,  keeping silent,  and loving those who do not love us in return. 

I write this knowing it may be read by one or two that can piece identities together.  I don't care.  I am free.  Free from hosting holidays after years of being taken advantage of.  Free from guilt over time spent between families.  Free to make decisions this upcoming holiday season that bring us joy.  There are so many family members that deserve our time and attention who have cried with us,  defended us, and simply loved us.  I'm giving myself permission to no longer worry about splitting time equally.

Our circle has multiplied exponentially this past years with people who love us for who we are.   Family is not always blood.  So many family members have loved us through.   It's a shame that a tiny few continue to cause so much pain.

#doitforcj

What's next?

I suppose I've brought this one on myself.   Even in the quietest moments of the day,  my mind is racing to find new ways to keep CJ's memory alive.  Often I am asked  "What's next? ".

My son's first birthday had brought that subject up several times this week. And of course,  I have plans.

The hospital has asked me on teach an inservice to any hospital employee involved on labor and delivery that would like to learn a few basic photography poses and techniques.  As soon as I accepted, a date for next month was scheduled.  I think of those open hearts who have heard our story and have been touched to want to help other families and my heart soars!

Next add on the calender is a Cotillion for our daughters in the spring.  A sort of quince/sweet 16/17 that they have so deserved yet our distracting life had prevented us from scheduling.  They have chosen to have a mascarade ball.   With the help of a local restaurant, thier dream is taking form.  In liu of gifts,  they will be asking thier guests to bring items to be added to comfort bag we are making for grieving families to take home from the hospital.   Candle jars in peaceful scents, a piece of jewelry for a grieving mommy's heart,  a journal to write notes to thier sweet babies...  just a few of the beautiful gifts we received over time that brought me some peace.   Thier brother is always with us.  Honoring him with every family event will be easy with the love these girls have for him.

But what about today?   The big dates scribbled on a calender are the easy ones.  My focus is directed at memorializing him on those days.  It's the ordinary days that are confusing.   I walk a fine line between living a life reflective of my love for CJ, and getting caught up and missing the life that continues to move on around me.  

Now that a year has passed, several people have expressed to me that it is time to "move on".  I'm going to continue to politely nod and carry on exactly how I am.  One very confusing day at a time.

By the way,  have I mentioned that I have a son?  I would love to tell you more about him....

#doitforcj

What I have learned during year 1

With the anxiety of CJ's 1st birthday behind us,  I'm being asked quite often what are the biggest lessons I've learned.   Here's a few of my favorites...

When you don't know what to say,  the only correct things are:
I'm sorry.
I love you.
I'm here for you.

Teenagers share love in such a pure way. Thier ability to empathize and comfort is boundless.

Dog are angels on earth.  They provide companionship and comic relief nomatter the life situation.

Husbands cry.

Sleep is mandatory to survive,  not a luxury.

The closest people to you,  who love you the most, are often not the best support when grieving.

Waterproof mascara is a farce.

It's ok to not be ok.

Some people will take advantage of you when you are at your absolute lowest.  It's ok to walk away from them.

Cemeteries are for laughing AND crying,  often on the same visit.

It's ok to say no.  Not every offer to "help" is actually helpful.

Bad days are inevitable.   Be gentle with yourself.

24 hours.  Once you hit 24 hrs,  you MUST get out of the house! You can cry just as well sitting in a park as at home.

It's ok to cry in public.  Most people will look away,  but the one who takes the time to stop and talk to you will carry your story with them forever.

Life DOES go on.   It hurts at times, but there is so much left to be enjoyed.   Take a deep breath. Pull up your big girl panties,  grab your sunglasses,  and get out there!

#doitforcj

1 yr....

My heart is screaming.  I just dropped Nate of at work,  something we do often to spend time together.   Driving up to the hospital triggered every horrific feeling we had just one year ago today.

I never wanted to remember what it felt like to have a dead baby inside of me, the looks on everyone's faces as we walked into the lobby, or even the emotions as we entered the elevator.

My poor husband.   Please pray for him.   How he is spending his evening within those walls is a complete act of selflessness and love for his family.   My chest hurt just being in the parking lot.  Tomorrow he was able to take off to be with us.   Tonight will be hell for him.

I drove straight to CJ.  I am once again the crazy mom wrapped in a blanket in a lawn chair at my son's grave.   Writing this is keeping me from falling too deeply into hysterics.   I don't even have the strength to wipe the berries off of his beautiful new stone that fell from the overhanging tree branches.   I just want to sit here and figure out how the hell do I ever survive something like this.

Crazy thoughts cross your mind in times of extremes.  Knowing he is only a few feet below me... It would be so easy to dig into the earth towards him.   Or to simply swallow a bottle of pills and drift off to sleep here in my chair.  I could be with him in just a few minutes.   Crazy extremes that cross my mind that luckily common sense can still put into perspective.  I can't love him selfishly.   He was given to us an addition to our family, not to be singled out.  

It is unseasonably cool today.   The breeze is giving me goosebumps.   Sleep deprivationis taking a toll.  After some time,  I will kiss the sacred ground goodbye like I always do.  The berries with be brushed away and flowers repositioned just right.  And finally I will leave my son here.

This is such bullshit.