Menu

Find that elusive post….

Looking Back

Grab your Fan Badge

Just An Ordinary Girl
Hell on Wheels @ OrdinaryGirl
<div align="center"><a href="http://pricesec.com/ordinarygirl" title="Hell on Wheels @ OrdinaryGirl"><img src="http://pricesec.com/ordinarygirl/wp-content/uploads/2013/05/Hell-on-Wheels-copy.jpg" alt="Hell on Wheels @ OrdinaryGirl" style="border:none;" /></a></div>
Walking My Talk @ JAOG
<div align="center"><a href="http://pricesec.com/ordinarygirl" title="Walking My Talk @ JAOG"><img src="http://pricesec.com/ordinarygirl/wp-content/uploads/2013/04/walking-my-talk-at-JAOG-badge.jpg" alt="Walking My Talk @ JAOG" style="border:none;" /></a></div>

Google Connections

My not-so-ordinary Posse

The Seaman Mom

mondaymingle

Craft DIY Ideas

fw

The Bipolar Diva

Evil Joy Speaks

The Farm Girl Recipes

Craft DIY Ideas

Scary Mommy

© 2012 Firstyme - All rights reserved.

Firstyme WordPress Theme.
Designed by Charlie Asemota.

Not Goodbye…..Until we meet again.

Today is going to be a hard day for me my friends. Three years ago we lost my nephew. He was one of the most special people I have ever had the honor of knowing and loving. He was born with SMA – a severe form of Muscular Dystrophy.

He taught me so much and I won’t forget the lessons from either one. I will teach my children the lessons. Cherish your loved ones, time is precious, don’t get impatient – for this too shall pass, you are stronger than you thought you ever could be, breaking down doesn’t mean broken; but mostly how to love without boundaries.

Those and so many more. I grieve today for the memory of that day. But I grieve the hardest for the little angel who left. Both were senseless, both touched my life in a profound way. A day doesn’t pass when I don’t see those laughing brown eyes and that freckled face reflected in the eyes of my children. Today I grieve. I will never forget.

I miss him with a fierce ache this morning. But I sent my kids off to school and his mother can only cry today in remembrance of the days she did the same. And so it is with humble gratitude that I remember him today and his mother and father as well as our family.

RIP my sweet angel, take care of everyone until we meet again.

 

http://pricesec.com/ordinarygirl/?p=519

For about eight years this day has meant to me what it means now to all Americans. A day of remembrance for the greatest sorrow my generation and those behind me have born witness to. A day when the Nation’s heart broke as one, where our anger and disbelief flared as one, we bled together and shed tears as one. A day when we all stood shoulder to shoulder, division lines gone. It has changed our lives forever.

A year ago today, this day took on a whole new meaning. Hearts broke and tears shed for a great grief once again that could not be contained. For on this day the Lord took my nephew Garrett Allen Buthe, who had turned 10 the week before, into his loving arms and welcomed him home. I could not be at his side though I wanted to badly. We left when my son was 5 1/2 and peanut was just 2 1/2. I had promised my son we would be back to visit, and then four and a half long years had passed and life had gotten away from me, I hadn’t visited like I wish I had. I think they only made it back there once. I inadvertently broke a promise to my son and we both know it. I was able to attend his funeral thanks to the great generosity of a woman I didn’t know, but consider a friend now. She knew Garrett, had been one of his paras in school, and everyone who met him and knew him, couldn’t help but love him. It was the least she could do she said.

I remember this day so clearly….

They were very nearly brothers. Born into a close family and born with a mere 8 month difference in their age. Their fathers were brothers and they grew up as close cousins. I have such fond memories of them all. There was not a single bit of difference between any of them and they all loved each other mightily as children are so capable of doing. Want to play tag? Sure thing. Garrett tears out on his ‘hog’ and Ean and Alexandria join in on their bikes. See, not a bit of trouble. Down Uncle Cory and Aunt Lana’s driveway. The three of them were glorious together.

Ean, baby Alex, and GAB
 Watching them tear into Christmas presents together, or playing at Grandma and Grandpa’s house. Going up to the cabin with the family for the weekend in Fall River, where they would swim, and jet ski and boat. Where we would watch fireworks and celebrate the Fourth of July. We would lay on rugs and blankets in the living room of the cabin and watch movies and nap together. And there were always card games. Those days are filled with love and laughter. True they held their own trouble and stresses but there are things I would give anything to have back for even just a day. I will never again hear the sweet melody of the three voices raised in laughter together over something silly. There are things you miss so much and they are the little things that tear holes in your soul and let you feel the lonely wind whistle through.
His parents were and still are fabulous. Not a day went by that they didn’t make every wish or dream of his come true. In his short life he accomplished so much. From bagging a deer with his daddy, to scuba diving, to his Muscular Dystrophy involvement and the sweet love of his mother; there wasn’t anything I can see that Garrett ever lacked in his life. They filled it with all the love and excitement a child could desire. With more patience and endurance than I feel like I could do – they worked every day with him. Every Halloween came with an amazing, well thought out costume to include his ‘hog’. They would all head out together to collect the sweet treats in their grandparent’s sub-division. They parented in a way I wish I could always do. In a way that I will always admire and strive to emulate. And we all love with a desperation born of the knowledge that life is so fleeting and unfair at times.
Ten years ago, I dropped my baby off at the sitter and went into my college classes for the day. I was in school for Journalism at the time and we were in the first class of the day, which happened to be Reporting 101. We heard the commotion as it began, the professor stepped out and got some basic information. The whole class was begging to be let out to go into our press room. Then we laid the argument down that if something of great importance was happening, better than sitting in class reading a book, would be to be out there doing what it was we were meant to do, report. Finally after what seemed like forever we were out and staring at the T.V. The first tower had been hit, and the great dark plume of smoke froze our hearts in our chests. Not a sound was going on in the room. We all stood, eyes locked on the screen, hearts in our throats.
When the second tower was hit, the great torrent of tears poured out as we learned what our fellow brothers and sisters were going through. We watched the fire burn so hot that many chose to leap from the burning towers. We watched their bodies fall. And we cried, we raged, we demanded retribution from the ones who had struck at our souls. On our own soil. Then even more horrible than before, we witnessed the collapses of the towers and when we thought we couldn’t be more shocked or grief stricken, again the tears flowed unchecked down our faces.
The thought crossed my mind that people who were alive for the JFK assassination or the Challenger explosion had stood as a Nation united and grieved. Still somehow I guess I never thought something like that would happen in my lifetime, and you hope not in your children’s either. Yet here it was, that moment for our generation and theirs. We stood united again in grief and confusion trying to sort the pain. The professor in charge of the Journalism program called us to attention and said. This is your moment, you can’t stand here and do nothing. You are journalists, get yourselves together and get out there and get the news.
So we mopped our faces, sucked it up and did. But we also grieved. I sat at a bench watching a group pray around me and the flagpole. I felt a solidarity with them, though I did not physically join them. I thought of a good friend, who I knew was a fireman in New York. He had been an engine chaser when he was a kid, then a volunteer fireman when he was old enough. I knew he was there. And I prayed for him as well as all touched this day. We brought back the news. It was my honor to collaborate with a fantastic editor of The Lantern on the feature article. We cranked it out through tears and sweat. It was a one headline day, a triumph in the journalistic sense, and yet there was no joy in it. For one word was all that was needed to speak the depth of this atrocity.
My son was too young to know at the time, just barely approaching 2. But he was overwrought by it this year, when they talked about it in school for the 10th anniversary. I spoke quietly to him about it, while I held him on my lap, his head close to my heart; and I ached. A decade has passed. A year has passed. It still hurts with a burn that won’t stop. I won’t forget the lessons from either one. I will teach my children the lessons. Cherish your loved ones, time is precious, don’t get impatient – for this too shall pass, you are stronger than you thought you ever could be, breaking down doesn’t mean broken. Those and so many more. I grieve today for the memory of that day. But I grieve the hardest for the little angel who left. Both were senseless, both touched my life in a profound way. A day doesn’t pass when I don’t see those laughing brown eyes and that freckled face reflected in the eyes of my children. Today I grieve. I will never forget.
In Loving Memory
Where were you? I hope you are safe and blessed my friends.

I’m freakin’ Superman in my spare time….

I absolutely love being a stay at home mom and my husband works very hard to make that happen. It was a decision we made together. It ended up working out too while I was so sick. We don’t have a whole lot of extras but we have a pretty decent life. I’ve had much less for the vast majority of my life and so I count the blessings rather than complain about what isn’t perfect here. I have been seeing a new specialist that has made the most progress with my diagnosis and my medications. I have been 5 months without an episode. However my husband and I were talking about it the other night and we also believe that it had something to do with the amount of stress and anxiety that his boys had put us through. The timing just kind of works out that way and so it makes us wonder. The last time I went this long it was when I went to KS and we were separated and it was 4 months.

Since stress is the major activator of my issue it makes sense. Now they are all gone and not helping or even speaking to us. OrdinaryDad, the kids and I have all been pulling double time to keep up with everything. Funny thing is, even though it is stressful, it is getting done and better than when they were around and the extra stress is not causing me any issues. If anything I am working harder and healthier than I have been able to in a long time.

It’s OrdinaryDad who is suffering more than I and I think that is because all my energy is channeled into helping support him and making sure he is okay. Doesn’t matter what they say or do towards me, I haven’t cared what others have thought for a very long time. I’ve dealt with crazy family and drama my whole life and nothing they have done, could do or think of doing would knock me down because I HAVE survived the worst of the worst. It has made me strong and it has made me a fighter. And when I am in fight mode, I don’t have time to worry about my hurt little feelings or even if I do have any. Which is why I’m titled a bitch.Strong women who speak their mind and stand their ground loudly aren’t really appreciate around here. Especially in the South. They are more into the subtle Southern F-you. The one where they tell you to go to hell and you look forward to the trip before figuring out you have been insulted – and usually not till much later.

So between juggling the house and all the things that go with that, the kids and dinner and all the animals etc I am also holding together the strong person who usually helps hold me. Revamping plans for the family business, taking up the slack, stepping up and running some of the other things going on that we keep private from my blog, running this blog and my fan page, which thanks to all you wonderful people is starting to take off. I am also working on a short piece as well as perhaps a book, with the encouragement of a fellow author, blogger and friend.

Yes I have my moments of frustration, upset or resentment but in the end I love my life and chose it for a reason and I will be dammed if anything is going to take that away or otherwise mess with it.

They read this blog avidly. They can’t help themselves. They look for any little crack, any little detail they could possibly use. They blow things out of proportion or flat out lie (yes we have had to defend ourselves in court from the neighbors more than once) and so instead of taking a defensive position we are all offense baby. Starting to take care of our lives as if these people no longer exist. There was a hollow look in his eyes when he told me that his boys no longer existed to him, they have crossed the line and done too much; there is no going back now. And despite all the hurt they caused me it distressed me to hear that. I know all you parents out there are all like “No matter what my kid ever did to me I would never stop loving them or disown them” – well guess what. I was in your shoes too. Still kind of feel that way about it because I trust my kids won’t repeat this disaster. But I do know the possibility exists. And I totally understand why he feels that way. Until you have had your own flesh and blood betray you, lie about you, use you, manipulate you, try to destroy your marriage and then say “you made your bed I hope you die in it” (yes that is a direct quote from Mr. BBP to his dad via text last night) ~ then please don’t come in here throwing darts because he said that.

He means it now and I stand by him, but if he changed his mind in the future because they grew up or realized the truth I would still support his reconnecting with them. But he feels they burned a bridge and it is done at the moment. Do you blame him? His son also flung this blog in his face saying “You still haven’t read her blog and you take her side against us”. Let me speak very slowly and clearly for you ASSHOLEdon't be an asshole.

1) THIS BLOG HANGS OFF YOUR FATHER’S PERSONALLY OWNED WEBSITE – SO WHAT MAKES YOU THINK HE DOESN’T HAVE OPEN ACCESS TO IT.

2) QUITE OFTEN I READ HIM PASSAGES FOR HIS APPROVAL. YES I HAVE CHANGED THINGS AT HIS REQUEST.

3) I HAVE WRITTEN MOST ALL OF WHAT IS HERE WITH HIS PERMISSION AND ENCOURAGEMENT.

4) EVERYTHING HERE IS THE TRUTH AND YOU JUST DON’T LIKE IT BEING OUT THERE FOR GOD AND EVERYONE TO SEE YOUR BULLSHIT

5) I AM ASHAMED OF NOTHING IN THIS BLOG AND YOU CAN SHOVE IT UP YOUR ASS IF YOU DON’T LIKE IT.

6) TEST ME – PLEASE TEST ME……

Listen closely.

I.perfect I dont' care
don’t.
give.
a.
flying.
fuck.
what.
you.
think.
of.
me.

You are so wrong here it isn’t even funny. Your dad is wondering if you have lost your ever loving mind. You not only threatened his client relationship and challenged they would pick you over him, saying he couldn’t do a damn thing about it (as if he was even going to or is even like that dummy) but on top of that, you wished him to die. A direct threat against him. I wouldn’t push your luck any further. Karma is a bitch and I promise if you follow the neighbors path and papaw’s path – it won’t play out like you think it will.entitlement

And just an FYI – YOU are the only one who flunked out of school Mr. BBP. I was nearly killed in an auto accident my first round and my second round I chose raising my kid over finishing school at that time. I’ve never flunked out like you did. And in a matter of a year or so, I can have my masters degree – you don’t have shit. Have a nice life.

Keep reading me, keep hating me ~ it affects my life not at all. We will press on, be successful, shake the dust of all this bullshit off our shoes and raise our family together. You chose not to be a part of that. YOU chose to write yourself out of your father’s story. And YOU chose the enemy over him not the other way around. My friends and fans stand by me and so does OrdinaryDad as well as my kids both adopted and blood. So keep it up, nothing you do matter to us. I have my happiness and place to be at home, you threw yours away.

   pocket full of fucks

See my friends, I try to speak about other topics and they just refuse to give me breathing space. Thanks for being there for the journey both good and bad. Until we meet again, stay safe and be blessed.

 

Sending Heaven A Message ~ Too Much Sadness Today

Today is Father’s Day and for some of us, it is a hard day. We don’t have fathers who are with us, for whatever that reason may be. My father has passed and I have friends and family who will have a hard time today as well because they are missing their fathers too.

dear father

…..however mine is colored with regret for not ever having a real father in my life. I’m sure some of you can share that feeling as well.

I started the weird tradition in my family (when I became a single parent myself and understood all that my mother had to deal with) of calling her and wishing her a Happy Father’s Day. By then I knew what it took to be both parents to my two children. I have a son and a daughter so I see the need from both sides for a father in a child’s life.

I figured if she did the job of both, shouldn’t she get the credit too? When my sisters wound up in the same boat, they, as well as any of my single parent friends also get my calls/text/wishes on those holidays.And yes, I do wish my single father’s a Happy Mother’s Day as well. I simply admire anyone who takes a stacked deck and actually parents with it.

 

I try to focus on this day on the fact that I have a wonderful man in my children’s lives and that they won’t miss out on having someone in their lives like I did. But on this day they also hurt because they remember their dad isn’t here. My son because he remembers, my daughter because she can’t.

My husband went to town yesterday to run errands for guy stuff like Tractor Supply for dog food and parts for our John Deere Mower you know, guys junk. And my son went along for the ride. I’ll tell ya, he came back feeling 10ft tall because he got to go. My husband is no slouch when it comes to parenting. When he married his ex she had two kids, then they had three and when we got married I had two. So in all, he has been through 7 kids. I think he may have picked up a tip or two.

He has been there for everything over the last 7 years. He was there when my daughter got potty trained, when my son rode his first two-wheeled bike and then my daughter as well. He has been there through all the bad stuff too, like the day we almost lost two of our kids to a wicked car accident or the day we had to tell mine their daddy was gone. He was there, being a rock, a great man, a great father, a best friend. He will be there for their future things like graduation, getting married, having children; and I think that I couldn’t have asked for a better person in their lives. eternal calling

Today my heart breaks for OrdinaryDad. He is feeling it especially hard after Mr. BBP paid him and unpleasant visit. The little shitbird came up, dropped off the money for this phone – two days late ($60/mo), took the rest of his stuff, lipped off to his dad, accused him of kicking him out (still not admitting to the failing college and taking off and lying), tried to take his dog down to the neighbor’s house (and accused me of potentially doing something to her), lipped off some more, said he didn’t care about lying and using our client to do so, fucker actually shrugged. Funny thing is that he and I barely fought compared to his twin and when his twin left he bailed on HIS dog too and Chaos is thriving. Hell Sable sleeps with US now at night. She hasn’t really acted as bad as we thought she might.

On his way out the door I said “Nice Father’s Day, asshole”.  and he turned around and told me to go fuck myself which it totally fine, I laughed in his face. Then he proceeded to lip off some more to his dad on the front porch while OD had to make sure he didn’t steal Sable. Keeps saying it doesn’t matter, that he “can’t afford school” even though he is/was getting way more money this coming semester than he had first round. There is something seriously wrong with that boy. He has finally snapped like we worried he would, and it is just as ugly as we thought. He didn’t even try to come up here nice, he hit the door with a bad attitude. He was looking for a fight.

OD had to tell him he wasn’t taking the dog anywhere until he could prove he had a place to live with him and her. Claims he is finding something in town that will allow a pet….really? Umm I have looked for places to live many, many times in my life and good luck finding something. You really have no clue. And if you do, the deposit is a nice chunk of change.

My husband’s heart leapt in his chest when Mr. BBP sent the Happy Father’s Day text and asked if he could come up. He was so excited to hear from and get to see one of his boys today and now he is broken hearted again and I am angry on his behalf. But he will sit there bleeding from his wounds, drop by drop and just keep taking the slashes. He doesn’t stand up for himself let alone lash out and I’m curious if I will feel the same way if my kids act like jerks when they get older. Because I say right now I don’t care who you are, you are expected to treat me with the same respect I give you, and for that matter, if you push too hard, expect me to push back period.

This sucks so hard because I can’t help him other than be there to hold him together when he falls apart and yes he cries, I can only imagine how it hurts him to see what all the scars they carried have done to them and their choices. It hurts to watch a son have it all and let it go and to not even have the courtesy of giving his dad an explanation to understand it all. It hurts him to watch them live a lie and believe that lie and use that lie as a weapon against him. But he loves them enough to take it, he loves them enough to leave the door open, he loves them enough to love them even when they throw it in his face and I can’t help but admire him for it.

This is an exceptional man, and I am honored to share his life. Please send your thoughts and prayers to him. I’ll stand strong while he can’t because he never fails to stand strong for his family.

Appreciate what you have my friends. Please tell your loved ones how you feel and don’t let petty things stand in the way. Some day you might look back and it will be too late.

Until next time my friends, stay safe and be blessed.

to have a child

Betrayed

Today I am sharing the story of my first miscarriage (2002). Between my son and my daughter. I was actually pregnant with her so quickly after the miscarriage (1 1/2 -2 weeks later) that I spent half of the pregnancy not sure if she was one of a twin because she measured very small. I was very sick while pregnant with her too, anemic and dehydrated, and spent my whole pregnancy terrified I would lose her as well. It caused me to have attachment issues with her. I was scared to hope and lose another baby.

 

miscarriage my little star

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

Betrayed

The smells permeate her nose sharp and distasteful. The hustle surrounds her as she finishes the rounds on her hall, fighting the sharp pain in her side. She stops finally in the bathroom and prays the certainty growing in her mind is wrong.There it is, the tell tale spot and as her heart stops beating in her chest, she curls her fingers reflexively around her stomach. My baby.

She pulls the cloak of calm around her like a barrier and makes a beeline for the phone. One desperate call to the doctor later, she sits with clammy hands and a racing pulse waiting for the return call.When she gets the calm impersonal voice back on the phone, it says they want to see her for an appointment. Once again her heart stutters to a halt and she mechanically goes through her chain of command and once free she heads for the door on auto pilot. She imagines she must have driven there because she is behind the wheel as the car glides to a stop in the parking space, though she cannot for the life of her remember the road.

Two days she had defied him, two days she risked his wrath to try to prevent this very thing. She climbed numbly into her aunt’s van. They were on their way to the hospital. She stared out the window unseeing and started violently when the woman beside her spoke. “Do you know what today is?”

She stared at the woman for a moment as her brain chugged sluggishly into gear. “Uh, Friday?”. The woman chortled softly and prodded “Yeah but Friday the what?” The connection was made and resentment sprung to life as she glared contemptuously. When the woman turned to look at her all expression was smoothed from her face. She half smiled and said “That figures”. Her aunt laughed and said “Friday the thirteenth isn’t a terribly good day for this.”

“No sh!t Sherlock,” she muttered softly to herself. All her nerves were on fire both physically and mentally and her aunt was only making it worse. Why in heavens name would anyone with half a heart or brain even mention something like that? As if the dread in her heart wasn’t enough, let’s toss in the random dire portent. “Yeah I’ve read this plot line'” she thought bitterly.

The next thing that roused her from her benumbed state was lying in the dark in a gown, worn soft by all the washings. The ultrasound machine hummed to life and the cool air brushed across her cheeks making her shiver. The tech beside her uttered not a word as she pour on the warmed jelly and ran the wand across her belly that had barely begun to curve. She could see the amniotic fluid as a dark blotch on the screen, but the ominous silence hung dreadfully in her ears. Without a word to either her or the woman that sat next to her, strung tightly wound but blessedly silent, the tech left after instructing her to return to the room she was in before. Then her companion began to utter all the charming endearments we find spill heedless from the mouths of those outside the sucking black.

She felt drunk on dread, empty and scared. She knew he was at home, uncaring except for the burden of watching their small son. There was no comfort for her there. She was in the brightly lit, cheerless room; more fit for a holding cell. The bustle of the emergency room continued heedless of the way she drew taunt in expectation any time footsteps sounded outside her curtain. Finally, in strode the dark small man, he could barely bother to look at her as he uttered the pronouncement. “It is confirmed you are losing your baby”.

She thought she died in that moment, so heavy was the wall of pain and despair. Thru the haze she heard her aunt gasp, then watched the doctor’s head jerk up. His eyes were wide and horrified. “Oh my god, I thought the tech told you something”. He began to apologize profusely, though she scarcely heard it over the deep wracking sobs she heard coming from far away. Only barely did she realize it was her own voice that made them.The shell that remained of her, sat silent as stone, tears running down her pale cheeks, made ghostly in this moment.

The trip to the store for the prescriptions and the stop for a pack of smokes at her dull command seemed to be as pictures on a screen, as if she watched herself at the movies. When they arrived home, she stood uncertainly outside the van and spoke over her shoulder without looking, “Wait for me, till I see what will happen”. Her aunt made a noise of agreement, neither voicing what they knew to be the truth. It would not be pretty. For a long, dark, soul searching moment, she stared at the house. Every light in it was off and she knew what he would say, how he would react. The desperate corners of her soul begged for even a glimpse of light she knew in her heart would be denied her once more.

She entered slowly and quietly and when she paused in the doorway she heard his voice bite out of the darkness. “Where the fuck have you been?”. She felt the lash bite in and leave another welt upon her soul, but she was beyond the pain of that now. She was one of the walking dead. “I was at the hospital. I’m losing our baby”. Her voice was soft and pleading as she stared at the immobile back before her. “You mean you aren’t done yet?” She thought she was immune but the words cut her deeply and swiftly, in that moment slicing the thread that had been the love left for him. It vanished in the blink of an eye and she wondered for a second where it had fled so fast. “I need you. Say something, anything and I will stay. I need you dammit”. She heard his snort of disgust and could see in her minds eye the sardonic smirk that curved his mouth though she could only hear it this time. “Being a bitch isn’t the way to get anything from me”. She stared for one long moment at his immobile form, still facing away from her then grabbed her bag and walked out.

She returned to the van without an explanation, the woman did not need one. When they arrived at her aunt’s home, she stumbled out of the vehicle and collapsed on the front porch. “Please I need to call my mother.” When she sat gripping the phone in her hand she lit a cigarette and dialed the number. She sat praying silently and was grateful to hear her mother answer. Please God, let her be understanding, I couldn’t stand another rejection right now.……”I’m losing the baby mom”. She heard her mother weeping on the line. “I wish I was there for you sweetie”

She cried in sheer joy, her mother had never seemed to understand, to connect with her when she needed the softer side, always harsh and blunt. She grieved with her mother and the pain subsided a bit. They talked for a while until her stomach began to hurt in earnest. “I have to go mom, I love you”. She sat looking at the stars smoking and grieving and wondering why for what seemed like forever.

When the moment finally came for her angel to go to heaven she could not physically deal. Crying hysterically she called out for her aunt who rushed to her side. She heard the sound of rushing water come from behind her and felt the motherly arms of her aunt around her. She curled in upon herself.

She lost their child that night, alone in the darkness.

She thought. A hand smoothed her brow as a mother does a child, though she was grown and a mother herself and she floated slowly into the blessed relief of sleep. The agony in her soul was sharp. She grieved the loss of her child, she grieved the loss of him undeserving of it as he may be, she grieved the loss of the dream she had of family and happily ever after. After all, maybe he was right. Maybe it was all her fault.

Drifting in the final moments of lucid thought it echoed, “you will never be good enough…………. you will never be good enough”. A tear slid silently into her hair.

 

It was definitely one of the most heartbreaking moments of my life. I have gone through two others in the last 3 years. It’s hard to talk about and to find people who are comfortable talking about something like this, let alone understanding it. Maybe I wouldn’t have spent so much time alone and scared if I had known where to go. If I had had someone tell their story and offer their hand. Please know you are not alone. Just because your child has gone to heaven does not mean you aren’t still a parent. That loss hurts too. It is okay to think about them and to talk about them. Please feel free to contact me or find a group called Miscarriage Matters on Facebook. Click their name and follow the link. You are never alone.

Until we meet again my friends, stay safe, be blessed and know you are loved.

 

Easier To Run

Pretending I don’t feel misplaced Is so much simpler than change .....

Pretending I don’t feel misplaced Is so much simpler than change .....

If I could change I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
If I could take all the shame to the grave I would……
If I could change I would
Take back the pain I would
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would
If I could stand up and take the blame I would
I would take all my shame to the grave

It is easier to run, than to stand your ground when the shit hits the fan. I think what we all really fear is the silence. Because in the silence our insecurities start speaking, they fill us with all of the worst of us. In the silence, misunderstandings are born. It is also in that silence that decision are made. Some we realize right away, and others take longer to sink into our consciousness. In this silence our fears paint pictures that might not be fully accurate; If we don’t ask or tell – then that space is filled with something else, just depends on what your specific baggage may be. We reflexively tuck our stresses and problems inside us where they are safe and yet it is the things we don’t talk about that end up killing or separating relationships. It is easier to flee, to try to leave those things behind us. To admit them takes courage, the kind of courage that I am trying to find within my own heart.

Wherever you go, there you are. No matter how fast and how far you run, you will always catch up to yourself. There is no escape from your emotions, problems or issues. You take them with you. They live in the silence, in the shadows of your heart and they stay there until you deal with them once and for all. And if you keep denying they are there, one night they will catch up to you in the dark spaces in between our conscious and unconscious mind. You fill up your days with all kinds of activity and mostly you can keep your mind out of that deep hole, but in the evening when you are laying your head down to sleep and your defenses are low, they creep around the corners and you find yourself caught up again.

There is so much that remains unsaid, unvoiced, maybe even unrealized that shapes who and what we are. The way you respond automatically to certain circumstances, the way smells or sounds can take you back in time instantaneously; there is no escape. And so rather than be buried beneath it all, you must take a deep breath and look hard at the WHY. We see the what every day, but do you know why you believe what you believe or react how you react? No? Most people don’t even realize they can change the pattern if they figure out what it is that moves them.

I heard it described once as such: those moments in time where you have been hurt, neglected or upset – you freeze and bury those moments – and yet what we don’t realize is that we freeze a piece of ourselves as well. We remain the hurt child, the confused teenager, the bitter adult that we were at the moment that incident/emotion hit us. I’m tired of leaving all this crap frozen in the glacier that surrounds my private thoughts and feelings – and yet there is no safety for me in giving anyone anything that I consider a vulnerability.

That soft spot has been taken and used by more than one person. I started slamming the door shut in people’s faces when I was hurt or wronged. I will write you out of my story quicker than you can blink. I know it isn’t right, I know it isn’t healthy but I KNOW you can’t hurt me if you don’t know. I find myself becoming more and more private with my thoughts. I don’t even talk to my ‘friends’ as much as I used to. Not because they don’t love me or care, but they have their own lives and I can’t expect anyone to wanna dig through all the muck and mire with me. I know my true friends will always have their hands and heart out for me when I need encouragement but I find myself not wanting to intrude or bother people. Maybe that is a lie I tell myself so I can justify keeping my thoughts and feelings to myself. I can tell you that I don’t even tell these things to my husband anymore either.

I feel lost and alone though I am constantly surrounded by people (6 of us in this house plus the kiddos’ friends in and out) and 5 dogs, well it is hard to sit and while away the day in contemplation of how to remove myself from this rut I am stuck in. It pisses me off to no end that I cannot put my finger on why I am unhappy, I have everything I ever wished for and yet it rings hollow. Times are tough right now and I keep searching for answers or meaning.

I want to tell you exactly what it is inside me right now – but I don’t even know, so how can I describe it to y’all? I’m constantly stressed and frustrated and unhappy and nobody knows it but me…….

I am the voice crying in the wilderness of my barren soul praying for rain.

 

 

“The tragedy of life is what dies inside a man while he lives.”

Our desires always disappoint us; for though we meet with something that gives us satisfaction, yet it never thoroughly answers our expectation.
~Elbert Hubbard

I have never been the type to sit dreaming of some fairytale ending. I am a dreamer, but also a cynic; which in and of itself is an oddity.  The title is from one of my quotes, Albert Schweitzer says it best. It has a nice macabre sound doesn’t it? Hooray we can all be martyrs now right? Life is one great big Greek Tragedy or a cosmic joke if you prefer. I know it sounds like I have no faith at all but I really do believe in God. I just think his sense of timing and humor leaves something to be desired at times. Honestly, I’m kinda pissed at him right now, I told him I couldn’t handle anything else and lo and behold a 2 ton load was laid in my lap. I’m cracking and the whole God never gives you anymore than you can handle isn’t holding water at the moment. I think at this point I have earned the right to a little resentment. I also believe that he understands when we get that way and doesn’t judge us or hold it against us, that is the whole grace thing. At some point I always come to the end, understanding where and why and maybe even appreciating the complexities of how our prayers, hope or dreams are answered; but the getting there SUCKS!!

We women are put into ‘competition’ almost from birth. We are barraged with visual, written and spoken evidence of our flaws and inadequacies. It is difficult to form genuine friendships with other women because secretly someone is usually comparing or competing and you don’t know who you can trust when your back is turned. There was a time when it wasn’t that way, but I know among my group of friends there are a lot of us that say the same thing; I don’t have a lot of female friends because I don’t like the catty BS. So we don’t play games and are able to relate in an open and supportive way to one another. Birds of a feather and all that jazz….

People hold themselves back from one another in defense and protection. It’s a cruel and harsh world out there. It almost becomes a self-fulfilling prophesy of doubt and failing. The hardest thing is sticking to what you believe is true and honest while still being able to assess whether or not it is something that requires a shift in those same beliefs. How do you filter the voices? Every time you let someone sway you from what your core beliefs are, a little piece of who you are dies. How do you stop placing your faith in others and take the reins back yourself?

The insecurities rear their heads in our friendships, relationships, jobs, homes and even in our parenting. We doubt ourselves, we question ourselves, we accept blame for things we have no control of. When my own strength fails me, I know I can count on someone always being there. I feel an odd emptiness right now though. One that dries up my words as well as my desire to do anything about what is going on. Yep, good ol depression is setting in. Yet deep within my soul that voice still whispers words of strength and wisdom to me, though I might sit in my anger trying not to hear.

He makes my feet like the feet of deer, And sets me on my high places.

The voice says to me: Listen well my child

He sent from above, He took me;
He drew me out of many waters.
He delivered me from my strong enemy,
From those who hated me,
For they were too strong for me.
They confronted me in the day of my calamity,
But the Lord was my support.
He also brought me out into a broad place;

 

 

 

Sometimes, I even resent that little voice. Because if I could pretend for just ONE moment that I was a person lacking any depth, it wouldn’t hurt so badly. It brings me back to the here and now and I just want the voice to go away and leave me in my misery. Is it really too much to ask that I not be a warrior for one day? Why don’t I get to enjoy being a newlywed?

And I'm done hoping that we can work it out,
I'm done with how it feels, spinning my wheels
Letting you drag my heart around.
And ohhh
I'm done thinking, that you could ever change.
I know my heart will never be the same,
but I'm telling myself I'll be okay.
Even on my weakest days, I get a little bit stronger.

I may not see it or even feel it right now, but I will come through this. I just don’t know how right now, LOL.