Tuesday, May 29, 2012

The second is coming...

As the second of the month quickly approaches, I find myself slipping into that sad pattern....not wanting to do anything or go anywhere.  Just wanting to lay in bed and cry about how unfair life is right now.  It would be so easy to do that, but I refuse to let myself.  I may cry myself silly on the way to or from work, but then it's game face on.  I CAN get through this.  I don't really have a choice.  Life moves on.  Friends get pregnant and have their babies...even mothers who don't deserve to BE a mother.  Babies show up at work...on the cover of a magazine.  People complain about how their children are driving them crazy or how they haven't gotten a real night's sleep in a week or longer.  Some days I can sympathize with that.  Other days, I just want to say "You stupid moron!  Why are you complaining to ME about this? Don't you know what I would give up for that moment?"

I've talked to a couple of friends lately about not having much experience with being angry.  I think I've said it before, but some people just leave me feeling sad and empty about my own baby, but happy for them...other people getting that opportunity again and again and again BURNS ME UP.  I don't know how to deal with that.  I'm angry about so many things.  I feel cheated.  I want to see Kiernan smile and take his first step.  I want to see him roll his eyes when I tell him to clean up his room.  I want to meet his first girlfriend and be the mother of the groom.  I won't get to do any of that and it's just not fair.  Steve bought me a beautiful ring for Valentine's day...it had K's birthstone in it.  All I could think about was giving it to him to give to his wife one day. That's never going to happen. I'm angry that I can't sleep, and it's not because I have a baby with colic or is hungry.  It's because once the lights go out, all I can think about is everything that's never going to happen.  A friend today told me that I have to embrace every emotion and understand that each emotion is me.  I can try to rationalize it, or "fix" it, but no matter what, it's still there and it's part of who I am now. There will always be a "pre Kiernan" Alyson, and a "post Kiernan" Alyson.  Losing my son, I can't go back to the happy go lucky girl I once was.  I have to trust that one day the pain won't be as fresh or in your face, but will be more of a remembrance of the short time we had him. 

Life has definitely moved on.  Some days I wonder if people even remember him.  I know it's unrealistic to expect people to think about him all the time, but I do.  We bought a special carrier just so Steve could carry him while we maintained our (new to me!) outdoor life of hiking and such.  Steve and I grieve so differently.  I know he misses K and would give anything to have him here, healthy, but there are days that I wonder if he misses him as much as I do.  Intellectually I know he does....he's going to be such a great father one day if we ever get the chance to raise a child.  With Father's Day coming up, I've thought about it a lot...this was my chance to show my child what life with a father who gave a shit could be like.  Because I don't know what that's like (Side note--I'm so going to get into trouble for writing the "s" word here...but if Steve said it, my mom would just look at him and shake her head). I've written something about my view on fatherhood and the difference in what mine was like vs what I envisioned for my child, but haven't had the guts to post it yet.  That's a level of vulnerability that I don't know if I'm quite up to yet.  Of course, it's probably just my mom and sister reading this, so it would be nothing they didn't already know.  Stay tuned and see I guess.

That's all I have for now.  I feel drained.  I'm going to go to bed and read my book even though it's not even 630 yet....

Thursday, May 24, 2012

Man up "Anonymous"

I received the following post on my blog this morning when I got up. It has bad language in it so I'm sorry in advance:

Why don't you quit your bitchin over how sad you are your kid is dead and admit whatever you did wrong that killed it.  Between that and your I'm fat posts it makes me want to stab myself in the eye.

My dearest Anonymous,

First, please feel free to repeatedly stab yourself in the eye over and over...and when you are done with that, proceed to any other part on your body that you would like.  I can think of a few if you need help.

Secondly, my child was not an "it". He was a beautiful little boy named Kiernan Patrick.

Thirdly, I don't know who the hell you think you are, obviously not much of anyone since you can't man up and sign your post by your name.  Coward. You obviously don't know me if you think for a split second of a second that I could or would harm my child.  Don't you think that between the tests that Huntsville Hospital ran, the Mayo Clinic, or even the autopsy would have found something? Cause God knows I would LOVE a freakin' answer.  I have so much to say to you, but I'm gonna keep it classy. Lord knows all I see right now is red and don't really trust the words coming out through my fingers. Trust me, I run things over and over in my head every single day.  Probably while you are sleeping, because I can't.  But, my questions run something like...Did that fingernail polish have something in it when I painted my toes?  What about when I touched up my hair color?  Did I eat enough veggies?  Did I get enough sleep? Too much?  I invite you to come spend five minutes with me. Just you and me.  Maybe we can settle the difference then.  It probably wouldn't take five minutes, but I'm sure I can think of something to fill up the time.  Then, I'll give you over to my husband, who was expecting a healthy little boy...then to my sister and my mom.  Then, I invite the other women that I have bonded with over this horrific experience to come and have a turn. There is a special place in hell for people like you. 

Wednesday, May 23, 2012

If I can't have sunshiny days, I'll talk partly cloudy...

I have really come to appreciate those "partly cloudy" days...days that aren't perfect, days that aren't like the "good ol' days"..but days that aren't terrible.  Those are my partly cloudy days...and I'll take 'em.

I received a card last week around Mother's Day that I haven't been able to open yet.  I did yesterday.  It was from one of my nurses at the hospital named Ashley.  Ashley--I wish I knew your last name so I could properly thank you.  I know that the other nurses I had meant well, but geeze Louise!  They did not listen to what I wanted nor did they respect what we requested.  Time after time, every time they came in the room they would ask me if I wanted to go see Kiernan or hold him...would tell me over and over how I needed to do this.  I'm sorry, but no one, not even me, knew exactly what I needed.  All I knew was at that time, I couldn't do it.  The grief and sadness and anguish were already too much to bare.  I couldn't go hold my baby boy.  I know they didn't try to make me feel guilty, but wow...ya did.  Ashley was my nurse on Saturday.  When she came in to introduce herself to me, all she said was...I have a question...and I stopped her and told her the answer was no and please leave it be.  She said ok and that was that.  So Ashley...even though you may never know this, thank you for respecting our decision.  It meant alot to me and to Steve.  We had another nurse, Autumn I think, on Sunday who was great as well.  When Steve walked in, I was crying and getting pretty hysterical.  The medical records lady had come and asked for the spelling of Kiernan's name and I just lost it. Steve walked in and told everybody to get out of my room.  Done. Period.  Any questions go to him.  I think that was one area he could control.  He couldn't take away my pain. He couldn't "fix" the situation or me, but this, this he could fix.  Autumn came back in the room and just smiled and said..wow you have a great husband.  And I do.  Today..I sent him a text and told him I loved him more than red velvet cheesecake brownies (omg...to DIE for)...and his response was he loved me more than fishing.  The only response I could have was WHOA.  Ha!

I've been emailing with a new friend Janice, who has been in my shoes a few years ago.  I hope her son Jack and Kiernan are causing a ruckus together.  She hit the nail on the head today.  We were talking about grief and anger.  There are a couple of situations that all I see is red. Red Red Red...like am I going to start saying Red Rum like Jack Nicholson?  Or is it red room?  I tend to make up words to stuff! Ha!  But anyway...other situations I'm just sad.  A friend announced today on FB that they are expecting.  I'm sad...not for wanting her baby, but because I want MY baby.  That's what makes me sad.  Sad because my body isn't ready yet to try again, and I'm not sure if my heart is either.  Sad that it's expected or requested to use Kiernan's stuff, because it's not being used anyway.  No..that's the anger coming out.  That's the I want to punch you in the face repeatedly feeling.  That's the I need to shoot a gun at a target before I punch you in the face.  But, some things never change.  Not that I want any one else to go through what we did, but Janice has helped me so much, along with another blog, Horomonal Imbalances.  It makes me feel not so alone sometimes.

On a partly sunny note...we have a busy hopefully fun filled weekend.  I look forward to being busy and being with friends and family.

PS--Tomorrow is the big WW weigh in...nerves...

Monday, May 21, 2012

The Jolly Green Giant is angry?!

This will be a 2 part post.

Part Uno: We have had a pretty good week last week and weekend.  We've been busy.  Friday, we went and saw the Avengers at the Prive (for those of you not from here, the Prive is the 21+ upper section of one of our movie theaters....extra large leather "loveseats" and you can order dinner and there is a full bar!). Steve said he will never go to a regular movie again. It was great!  However...apparently I've lived a sheltered non-Marvel kinda life.  I thought the Hulk and the Jolly Green Giant were the same people.  I just kept thinking..wow he's really angry during the movie.  Needless to say, there was a Marvel conversation at supper after the movie.  I will say, after seeing Thor, Captain A, and Iron Man....I GUESS my eyes can handle watching any super hero movie!  As my sister says...freeze face during the movie!

 Saturday we went for a hike on Rainbow Mtn in Madison.  It's not a hard hike, until the very end and only if you are out of shape.  It felt good afterwards though.  We haven't done alot of hiking in the past year and I'm looking forward to doing more of it.  My goal is to do the Walls of Jericho this fall.  It's been said it's about a 6 hour hike so I want to make sure I'm ready for it.  Otherwise Steve will get mad at me because I'll whine.  Honestly, I'll probably whine anyway! 

Walls of Jericho, North Alabama

Sunday we spent the day in Albertville with my family.  The boys played paintball for my nephew's birthday (and wow do they have some war wounds!) and the girls went shopping.  Maggie was mortified that she had to try on clothes, but then she got to get books, so it was all good.

Bradford's Paintball wound

I'm so thankful for the good days.  They are coming more often which I'm glad for.  I don't like being an unhappy sad person.  I will say, that you definitely figure out who your friends are when you go through the dark times in your life.  We have had support from people that I haven't seen in years.  Support from people that I've never even actually met.  That feels good.  The flip side to that coin is, people that I thought were in our corner have been MIA.  I understand some of it may be that nobody knows what to say, but it's still disappointing.  I have decided though, that I have enough people to support me in my life.  If others don't want to or can't handle the bad situations, then that's just the way it is.  Now if I can only stick to that. 

Part Dos: After having said good weekend and even today at work, on the way home, I just burst into tears.  I'm sure if you were beside me on the Parkway or 565, you probably thought I was a crazy woman.  Don't worry....I think I am too to a certain extent.  It doesn't take anything in particular to trigger. Sometimes it just happens.  This afternoon all I could think about was how it isn't fair.  Someone wrote on FB earlier today (as their status) something about quit whining about what's going on in your life because somewhere, someone else has it worse.  I'm sure that's true, however, there are moments where I can't see beyond my own grief to even begin to think about someone else.  It's not easy to just "let it go".  I see what would have been in every.single.moment.in.my.life. For one, I bet if Kiernan were here, I wouldn't be as focused on my weight.  Instead, I'm beating myself up about it.  I try to make jokes about it, but the truth? The truth is I'm mortified. I came home crying last Thursday.  I joined Weight Watchers (which is a great step in the right direction--and I'm excited about it most days) and was upset about my "number".  Steve was quick to point out that there was a reason that I put weight on in the first place.  Granted, I needed to lose some before, but more now.  For me, right now, the weight gain is a constant reminder of what I don't have right now.  So--Hi my name is Aly and I'm doing WW...I will be the girl taking up time counting points at a restaurant or the grocery store :)

 I wish that I would have the chance to feel like the worst mother ever when something doesn't go right.  Instead, I feel like such a failure sometimes.  For whatever reason, my body wasn't able to protect my baby.  No matter what is said to me or reports I have, I wonder if I will always have this feeling deep down inside.  Feelings of failing at my chance of being a mother.  People say don't dwell on it or that I did nothing wrong.  Intellectually I can understand that, maybe even appreciate it.  Emotionally, I can't stop it.  If I ask myself do I think that I deserve a baby more than someone else, at times, the answer is yes.  Just being honest.  Bottom line is, I want my son.  I want to hold him and snuggle him.  I want to be tired because he woke up 5 times during the night.  Instead, I'm tired because I can't sleep.  But the bottom  line to the bottom line is, that's not going to happen.  Sigh.  So, my house is clean.  I'm clean. The groceries are bought.  Clean sheets on the bed. DVR is empty.  Laundry is caught up. These are all things that I had been prepared to give up, but now have no reason to. We'll get there.  We will be happy people again.  One day, we will hopefully be able to tell our son or daughter about their big brother.  Today's not that day.  Tomorrow might not be either.  Just know I am trying to be the person you used to know.  I'm trying to be happy and as normal as I can be (no jokes here!). 

Today, tonight, I'm going to hold my husband's hand and be ever so thankful that it's him that I'm on this journey with.  I don't know what I would do without him. 

Fun times in Nashville at the Aquarium Restaurant

Wednesday, May 16, 2012

Siphoning gas by mouth, uplifting friends, and Mr. Grey...

Random rants for today: I see no purpose for mosquitos or roaches.  Why were they created?  Who was the idiot that tried to siphon gas from the pump that forced them to write "Do not siphon by mouth" on the actual pump? Why must large trucks (dump trucks, garbage trucks, moving vans, etc) drive in the fast lane down the parkway? That's all for now...

Now onto other stuff.  I have had a good past couple of days.  I can't let myself dwell on everything all the time.  I can't let myself think about my friends who are either pregnant or that have just had babies.  I know I'm being a bad friend and not being very supportive, however, I just can't do it. I do hope they understand.  I've enjoyed my afternoon walks and dressing up in "decades" for work this week (it's National Nursing Home week...yay for 80s day tomorrow!). I've enjoyed down time reading a book, cuddled up by Steve while he's watching TV. These are the moments that I cherish right now.  The moments when grief and sadness aren't overwhelming.  The moments where I enjoy a glass of wine and time with my husband.  It's times like this that I have to be ok with these moments because the moments that I really want aren't going to happen.  To the mom who complains because her child kept her up all night crying.....the mom who is complaining about no time to herself....the mom who is worried because the house cleaning isn't getting done....I would trade places with you...each of you...in a heart beat.  I know you mean well and love your children deeply.  All I ask is cherish each moment..the good and the bad.  Cherish the all nighters and the sweet cuddly time.  Trust me. There is a mom and dad somewhere who would give anything for that.

I have a friend in RI who, although totally different situations, has been through alot.  To be brief about his story he was a freshman in college, on a basketball scholarship at Salve Regina University.  As a freshman he contracted bacterial meningitis somehow.  Long story short, he was in the hospital for a long time.  He almost died more than once.  He lost both of his legs and parts of both hands.  I can't begin to imagine his strength.  If that were me, I just think I would be one big pity party.  However, he's a happy guy...very athletic...and is currently getting his MBA.  I asked him today about how during that time, after waking up and finding your legs were gone and your basketball career was over, he got out of bed every day.  How do you be happy again? His answer was simple.  You never know how long you have with someone, or being alive yourself.  Instead of reliving every terrible moment every day, remember the good ones. Live for the good moments today.  If "today" is all you can do, be ok with that.  His courage speaks volumes for me.  I can't change what happened.  I can't fix it...cause trust me, if I could, I would. I'll never know why, no matter how much I think on it and analyze it.  And while there are days that I can't not think about it, I'm trying to not to as much. I will always remember how it felt to feel Kiernan move inside of me.  How his hiccups felt or the heartburn I had every single day.  I will also remember the joy finding out it was a boy.  I will always remember trying to think of a clever way to tell everyone at work that it was a boy, and instead just blurting it out.  I hope that one day I will go through a day without wondering if I did anything...any little thing...that caused this.  And while intellectually I know it wasn't my fault or anything I did, I will always wonder deep inside.  Was it the day I had my hair colored?  The day I had an extra piece of cake? But, then I think of other people who have 3 or 4 kids who are smoking and drinking with no prenatal care, and their babies are fine. Right now, it seems like so much of our lives are in limbo.  If you know me, you know I'm a bit of a control freak and a planner (I mean really..who plans their own elopement?!) and the limbo part doesn't sit well with me.  I'm trying to be ok with it.  See a theme here? I'm trying to be ok with alot of things right now.  Right now though, I'm going to focus on soaking in this time with my husband (even though he's watching a show where they are murdering people about oh every 5 seconds), my glass of wine, and chapter 26 with Mr. Grey :o)

PS--If you want to read more about John, just google John Kach.  He's a great motivational speaker, and just an all around awesome guy.  He's been on several different TV shows/interviews and is an avid speaker with the National Meningitis Association.  He also promotes the importance of a simple vaccine that could prevent bacterial meningitis.

Monday, May 14, 2012

Some days I just need a purple pen...

I was in a bad mood for most of the day.  The kind of mood where you just want to punch someone in the face.  Anybody.  Why? Just because.  However, I didn't want to waste money on bail, so I refrained.  So...if I bit your head off today...so sorry!

There are days that I could easily let grief over take my life.  Some days, I think it does a bit.  Some days seem so dark, with no end in sight.  When people try to be comforting, I just want to scream and yell. Let's add something physical in there and add punch something.  I want someone else to understand and feel my pain and sorrow, the grief and anger. I want someone to should it. Yet, I don't want anyone to have to go through this.This is my reality and I'm the only one who can do it. Steve told me the other day that "I don't know why but we are right where we are supposed to be for whatever reason".

So, while all the bad gets vented, I want to brag on some good.

I have a great mom and sister. They have been there every second of this.  The good and the bad.  The crying or the trash magazines. I'm thankful for them every day.

I have an awesome support system of friends.  They try to understand what I'm going through, and what I need. Sometimes I don't even know what I need.  I'm thankful that they are there for me through the good and bad. I know it can't be easy to be my friend lately. 

Lastly, my husband.  I have an ahhh-mazing husband.  He's not always the most socially appropriate person, or the most romantic...he even has a potty mouth at times.  But this man..this man has stood by me through thick and thin the past 4 1/2 years.  He moved to Bama for me to be closer to my family, even though I know he'd rather be living in RI.  Pretty selfish of me huh? There are days that he seems fine and that he's not affected by this any more.  Yet  I know he grieves for his son. I know he was excited and nervous and everything in between.  He's one of the reasons for my happy days.  I'll never be able to express to him how I truly feel about him.

So, for today, and for tomorrow, I am going to be okay with my bad mood moments, and my good mood moments.  I'm going to write in my new purple pen and use my new hot pink highlighter.  Some times I have to hang on to those stupid little things and sail on through the day.

Sunday, May 13, 2012

There's no trying on blue jeans on vacation...or crying in a bar!

With this being Mother's Day, there are so many thoughts and ramblings going around in my head.  If I don't write them down, they will stay there all night and I won't be able to sleep. Maybe they will make sense, probably not.  Steve just put on the first season of Gang of Thrones and it keeps drawing away my attention!

Steve and I had a great weekend in Nashville.  We wanted to get away. I wanted to escape my reality of what this weekend held.  We had a wonderful dinner at the Aquarium Restaurant and did some early birthday shopping at Opry Mills (that place is dangerous...my first trip there!). I decided to try on blue jeans...after eating lunch.  So not good for vacation mode!  After some tears because I'm not fitting into clothes very well, and it's difficult to find "shorts" in any length of pants.  I'm so frustrated that weight wise I'm not where I want to be. It's a constant reminder of where I've been and the loss that we've suffered.  Not that I was super skinny before, but I'll get there. It's just a pot hole filled road for me right now.  So, take my advice, and if you are on a weight loss journey (and if you are short!), DON'T TRY ON BLUE JEANS ON VACATION!

I'm so grateful for Cindy, "the dog lady".  She takes such great care of Finn when we go out of town.  He's got fenced in acreage to roam and play with the other dogs, swimming pool, and his own run for "nap time". We left a blanket with him that he lays on at home. Cindy said he drug it around with him everywhere.  The only thing about coming home for the "farm" is he is wiped!  Nice to know that he's taken care of when we go away though.

Now on to the hard stuff.  This is not how I envisioned this day.  I expected to be sleep deprived, in my pajamas with a good cup of coffee and a snuggly baby for my first mother's day.  Instead, I have a blue velvet box, with a tiny black urn nestled inside. Steve and I had made an agreement to try to leave everything at home for the weekend and just have a good time.  We were at a karaoke bar in Nashville having a blast.  Then someone got up and sang a song about a mom and baby.  I burst into uncontrollable tears right in the bar.  How embarrassing.  I spent quite a few minutes with uncontrollable sobs in a bathroom, in a bar, in Nashville.  Every where we went were advertisements for mothers/babies, sales for mother's day, flowers and cards being given out just if you were female.  What was supposed to be a fun get away was slowly turning into a disaster (let me insert here..it wasn't a disaster...it was a great weekend...).  The guys were just staring, not knowing what to do, while the girls were there on hand in case I needed something, yet giving my space.  All I wanted to do was go back to the hotel room and lay down and cry until I couldn't cry anymore.  Instead, I laid awake, tossing and turning, thinking of all that has gone wrong.  When I read how other mothers are tired because their baby kept them up all night, or upset because they were pooped on, all I can think about is if I had that chance, I wouldn't complain, ever.  However, I know that if I had never gone through this, I would be that person writing those type of things, and not meaning it as something offensive but rather as this has been my day kinda thing.  When any one talks about their bad day, all I can think about is...I can trump that..I win.  As if it is some kind of game.  I constantly wonder if I'll ever get to hold my own child, safe and healthy, or is this my forever.  I wonder if I do hold that healthy child, will they stay healthy or will they be taken from my be something like SIDS.  I guess that's where faith comes in, and mine seems somewhat depleted. I hear people talk and say "when" we have kids an dall I can think about is "if..it's if"...no matter what or how perfect your pregnancy is, it's "if" until you are holding that baby.  Until the dr says everything is ok.  I look at this day differently now. Maybe the world and life in general.  I feel selfish because I don't even want to say the words "happy Mother's Day" to those moms around me who are so fantastic.  It's not that I don't want to wish it to them or have them know that I'm thinking about them.  I just physically don't want to say the words.  I can't yet. It's supposed to be my day too.  Instead, this day is bittersweet.  Right now, more bitter than sweet.

With that being said..

Dear K--we didn't get to spend near enough time with you.  From the moment we knew that you were growing in my belly, we were excited and couldn't wait to meet you. While we had other plans for you, and for reasons we will never understand, you were taken from us too soon.  Know that never a day goes by that I don't think about you.  Wonder what you would have felt like in my arms. Wonder what your cry would have sounded like, or who you would have looked like most. Would you be clumsy like me, or get into trouble like your daddy. Wonder why you had to go so soon.  There is a song that whenever I hear it, I think of you.  It says " my love will fly to you each night on angels' wings...Godspeed...sweet dreams".

We love you. Godspeed little man.

Thursday, May 10, 2012

Tattoos don't mean I aint classy yall...lol

Ok--so this is a rant over judging people. I'm not perfect and I've done it too.  But it really hit home to me when I was the one subject to the judging.

I have had a wonderful day off work.  I spent time at the gym, read a good book, lunch alone (with my book) at Panera..then a spray tan (my theory is tan fat is better than white fat...and we will be out in Nashville this weekend).

While I was there, I over heard a lady tell the hair dresser that she hoped her daughter didn't turn out like one of  "those girls with tattoos". I stopped in my tracks for a second.  You see, after everything that has happened, my whole "give a damn" button is broken.  I retraced my steps and looked the woman in the face.  I told her that I have a Master's degree, a whole bunch of fancy letters behind my name.  I am a wife and a sister and a daughter.  I have a good job and a good life.  I have had two children who are no longer on earth, and yet I get up out of my bed every day.  I try to not judge people.  I think marriage should be for people in love, no matter your sex, religion, or race.  I have one tattoo that represents being free from an abusive marriage, and my second tattoo represents my baby that is in an urn in a blue velvet box nestled in my closet.  While I'm not a perfect person by any means, I hoped her daughter was more tolerant than she was.

Now some of you make think that that was inappropriate for me to say, or it wasn't a "classy" thing to say.  If living in RI taught me anything, it's that it's ok to say what is on your mind.  I'm not a bad person.  I'm not a thug, nor am I "one of those goth girls" (which by the way..more power to ya)...I mean come on..how can I be goth in a tie dyed Lulus beach tshirt??? So I see my response as that I am a strong person.  I will stand up for myself and will not let someone degrade me because of what I look like or that I have "ink". My tattoos have meaning for me.  I look at my star and remember my papaw telling me to do anything that I want to do. I look at it and it represents moving to Rhode Island after my first marriage fell apart because my husband was an emotionally and physically abusive douche bag.  It represents that I am stronger than that and I refused to live in that life for year after year because that's what someone thought I should do.  My love tattoo represents the love that I will always have for my son Kiernan.  Every time I look at it, I think of him. It's beautiful and it's an expression of my love and rememberance of him.  It's something I look at and can smile about.  How dare you take either one of these moments away from me because you think I'm a drugged out loser with tattoos.  

So--before you judge...think!

How do you be sad?

So Steve and I have been kinda distant from each other this week. We've both had alot going on at work and it's just kind of filtered over at home as well.  While at our fave Mexican place last night..it all came apart.  The poor waitress!  Ha!  But it felt good getting it out. 

I don't know how to be a sad person.  Sure, I've had my moments before where I'm sad and someone has hurt my feelings, or I'm mad about something.  That being said, it's usually over in a matter of a few hours at the most.  But at times, this seems never ending.  Where is the light at the end of the tunnel? Where's the end of the freaking tunnel, light or no light? Even when I have a good day, I'm waiting for the ball to drop. I'm waiting for whatever it is that's going to make me cry.  I don't want to, but I can't control it either.  I don't feel guilty any more for having a good day. It's just kind of like walking on egg shells. Ready for the ball to drop.  I know that I'm still grieving and that this experience is still "new", it's still fresh.  I know this could continue for a while yet. But I'm tired of being a sad person, yet I can't not be sad sometimes.

If you know me, you know that weight has always been somewhat of a struggle for me.  A couple of years ago, I lost almost 50 pounds.  At the time, I didn't think it was enough.  Now I look at those pictures and think...wow I looked GREAT!  Then I had a car accident where my sternum was broken...there goes working out for 10 months!  Then I started back doing kettlebells when I could.  Then I was preggo...so that had to slow down somewhat.  Then, miscarriage and D&C. No working out for 2 weeks.  Then we moved to AL and it was a huge adjustment...mostly because we went from 2 incomes to 1.  Then I got pregnant again.  I gained roughly 26 pounds during my pregnancy. I'm proud of that!  However, coming home from the hospital empty handed but with the weight still there does not work well for me.  I think I could go easier on myself if Kiernan was here. At least I would have a reason to have gained the weight.  I still have a reason, but not in the way I wanted or expected.  I was expecting time walking around the lake, pushing a happy baby in my stroller I drooled over.  Not walking by myself, tears streaming down my face.  So, right now, my weight loss is definitely a journey.  Steve is very supportive and continually tells me he thinks I'm beautiful no matter what, but I don't FEEL beautiful.  I don't want him putting his arms around me and feeling a roll. It's embarrassing. I'm about 3 pounds from where I was at my first appointment.  I will get there.  I'm not giving myself a choice.  But I'm not good at giving myself a break either. 

I read an article today where a 22 year old mother murdered her son, who was 3 months, because he was crying and interrupted her playing FarmVille on Facebook.  I would love 2 minutes with her.  I would love to have a room where I could keep her and every time I look at the blue velvet covered box, nestled in my closet, I would go visit her.  No matter her punishment, it will never, ever be enough for me.  

This will probably be my last post for a few days.  Mother's day is coming up.  I adore my mother. She's fantastic.  But this is not how I pictured this weekend would be.  I don't want to face it.  I don't want to participate in it.  I feel guilty for that because that is almost like punishing my mom as well.  My husband gets this.  So...we are going to Nashville for the weekend.  Friday night is date night..just us...escaping our reality for a weekend.  I'm sooo excited. We both need it.  Like NEED it.  And..sadly...I LOVE staying in hotels (and yes I refuse to watch those shows about exposing hotel grossness!) .  Then 2 other couples are joining us Saturday.  We are going to have a blast.  I love sitting in a bar, having a good beer, and listening to good music...and now doing it with some good friends!  It's going to be great! 

So, if you take anything from this post.  Cry. It's ok.  It's normal.  It's cleansing for the soul.  If you keep it in, it will consume you.

Tuesday, May 8, 2012

Random Thoughts

So I saw on another blog I follow (yeah, a whole 2...by the same person...give me more blogs people!) 11 questions to answer. Although she didn't tag me, I thought I'd tag myself and answer some.  I'm going on NO sleep and am somehow feeling chipper despite it.  So here goes...

1. How did you start blogging? I decided I had alot of things rattling around in my head and wanted to get them out!  Instead of my husband or friends on FB, I'm going to write it here!!

2. What is your dream job? I love what I do (Speech Pathologist), but would love to be financially stable without a job!  That's my dream job.  Of course that would last about oh 3 seconds because I can't just sit still and not do something. 

3. What is your favorite movie or book? There are so many! I love to read!  I love the Sookie Stackhouse books, the Scarlett Letter, Rebecca..as for movies...probably Oklahoma and The Wizard of Oz...however, lately, Bridesmaids can make me laugh every.single.day.

4. Favorite Food? This one is hard too.  I love to eat...as my dwindling line of paper clips is showing (those of us trying to lose weight at work use linked together paperclips to give a visual demo of how much weight we have lost...I even bought sparkly paperclips...hmm...thought that would help)...Mexican! I could eat it every single day! Or Granny's biscuits and cocoa (chocolate gravy to some)...no matter how hard I try, I can't make it like her.

5. If you had an entire afternoon free, who would you want to spend it with? Just one person? Steve. Exploring somewhere new, whether it's in our backyard or in a different state.  I have some great memories of our "mini vacations" where we would just go to a different city/town close by and just explore. We still talk about those trips. Going a little further from home (say, planning a hotel stay) and I my OCD immediately comes on and I have to plan everything.  I NEED to know I have somewhere to sleep!  I may be the only person who ever planned an elopement!

6. What is the most significant goal you have achieved to date? I don't consider anything I've done significant???

7. What is your dream vacation? Ireland hands down.  I want to stay in a little cottage our in the rolling hills....walk into the village, passing sheep on the roads of course, bundled up in my handmade sweater (that I of course bought somewhere), and hanging out with Steve in a local pub with a pint of Guinness! 

8. When you go to weddings, do you dance or sit like a lump? I agree with Janice on this one.  Why do I have to be a lump because I don't want to dance?  Odds are, I'm having so much fun watching you dancers making a fool out of yourselves, that I just can't give that up!  However, those that really can dance...I envy you! 

9.  If you were going to volunteer for an organization, what would it be? Something to do with domestic violence.  Been there, done that, can write my own chapter.  When I lived in RI, I volunteered with an organization where you met the woman at the hospital and helped her know her options whether it was through a rape or through a domestic violence episode.  She never had to go through it alone. My mom had someone to help her through some life events like these.  I think it gives the woman power when so much has been stripped away.  I know by the time I got divorced, my self confidence and worth was so low, why would I leave...who else was "going to put up with me"? When I looked at the same policeman for the second time in one day, I told him "I am not that girl, that girl who goes back and lives like this". He blew me off (I mean come on, he just saw me twice within hours!). That was my light bulb moment. I grabbed my dog and myself and left that very same day.

10.  Favorite celebrity or sports star? Well, I'm not really a sports fan.  I know. Blasphemy from a southern girl.  I'm supposed to LOVE college football..and am really supposed to have made a decision between Auburn versus Alabama.  Honestly, I COULD CARE LESS!  I like to watch sports only if I'm with a group of people (and let's be honest, I'm probably making fun of the people taking it oh so serious) or if I'm there in person.  Shocker? I've never been to a college football game!  My university was small and we didn't have a football team.  As celebrities go, I don't "follow" anyone...but I love me some trash/reality TV...love me some Housewives of OC!

11. What did you want to be when you grew up...when you were 6?  A garbage man.  I wanted to ride on the back of that truck so bad.  Sadly, my mom made me sit in a seat and buckle up every time I was in the car!  The back of a truck seemed so exotic to me!

12. What's the most challenging part of maintaining a blog? First, I thought this was only 11 questions?  But anywho...I have no idea!  I just started..like day 3.

13. What is the best vacation you have ever taken? There have been so many!  Our elopement in Vermont is at the top.  We stayed at a gorgeous bed and breakfast...we town celebrities (it was off season)...we went to a winery, shared desert (and a whiskey) with a couple who had been married for 65+ years....he wanted a whiskey...Steve decided after 65 years (the wife said no) he could have a whiskey..ha! We took the ski lift to the top of the ski mountain and were married there..just the two of us and the JP.  Others would be camping and hiking in Maine and New Hampshire.  We had awesome food/drinks, survived a thunderstorm in a tent..more than once...hiked some beautiful waterfalls, found a boardwalk on the ocean, and saw a moose...twice!

14. What is something about you that most people would never guess? Probably that I can be very shy in unfamiliar situations. 

15. What is the song stuck in your head and you want to share just so other people have to suffer too? Sadly, Skinny marink a dink a dink Skinny marink a doo......

Previous comments from other blog

I wanted to transfer some of the comments from the other blog (that I will be deleting) and instead of asking you all to write the same thing (ha!), I copy and pasted!

Aly, I have absolutely nothing to add. I just keep thinking, “Yes! Yes! Yes! She’s exactly right.”
I know that doesn’t help at all, but I also know there isn’t much I can say that does help.
I feel like I’m finally starting to get a good view of my little Jack in heaven now. I find that my ideas of heaven are so much happier and fun than they used to be. Because I know if my Jack is there and if he’s happy than it must be a wonderful place. And I think babies in heaven must still love their moms and dads. God is love, after all. It wouldn’t make much sense if after he perfects us and takes us to paradise that we would forget about loving those we loved the most. If everything in heaven is perfect than our little boys love us in such a perfect way we probably can’t even fathom it.
And I’m sure Jack and Kiernan have a good time there together. There must be a bundle of little babies tumbling around in God’s front yard. Just having fun and knowing someday we’ll be there to hold them too.—Janice

Well said! I am sure many will be helped with your honesty.—Theresa

(My first comment didn’t show, so here goes #2!) I’m proud of you for answering, “yes, but not living” because it had to be hard! There’s another blog I follow about triplets, with one of them in Heaven. And they hate when people call them twins, but they don’t always want to explain either. It must be hard! There are widows and orphans, but there isn’t a word for mothers of children who have died because it shouldn’t be. It’s not fair Description: :(--Alison

Hi Aly, we’ve read your blog and I’m glad that you’re doing this because I think writing our deepest emotions down is good therapy and sometimes easier than speaking them. I’ve done it since I was a child. Couldn’t stand for anyone to be mad at me (family) so I left hidden “love notes” on their pillow beneath the covers. My writings have helped me greatly over the years and I hope it does you also. I’m sorry that you and Steve are having to endure this tragedy. We love you both and are here if you need us.-Faye

Oh I can relate to so much that you wrote here! This could have been my post 4 years ago. And somedays it still feels a bit like that. Amen to the BS. I never knew I could want to punch someone just because they tried to say something comforting.
I’m so glad you are sharing with all of us, though. And I hope it helps in a small way to get it all out there.—Janice

I love hearing about your days. The good ones an bad ones. I have a friend who lost her 15mth old to SIDS in September. I have seen her through her bad and good days. I still pray for y’all daily. It seems like a lifetime since we were growing up on Colonial:)--Ashley

Monday, May 7, 2012

Thoughts for today

Hmm...I've thought all day of things that I want to write and say on here and now I'm kind of blank.  Yesterday was a bad bad day.  Today, while not perfect, was better.  It means alot to read people's comments and emails in your response to my rants and raves. Here goes...
I've been emailing with a couple of people through out this whole period.  I don't know them, but am so thankful for them.  For every second that I feel as if I'm losing my mind, they are there to reassure me that what I'm feeling and going through is normal for the course.  For example, on my way to work today...everything was going great, I'm just singing at the top of my lungs like normal. Then, out of the blue, I just started bawling.  It's not something I can always control and is a mixture of anger and sadness mixed with guilt and unending questions.  Then I may hold it together until who knows what triggers it again.  I say this so that if anyone reading this is going through something similar, know you AREN'T crazy!  Trust me...I run the gamete of questions relating to losing my mind!  I'm sure the people that are driving next to me some days think I should mosey on up to the psych ward...some days I feel like I should too.  I'm gonna try my best to stay out! :)
I was asked today if I would write something in the future for a blog for women who have been through something similar. I'm blown away to be asked, to think that my story and my struggle could help someone else.  This is definitely a journey that I don't wish upon anyone. But wow, I feel so honored to be asked.  Insert moment here where I cried!
I've learned that I throw one hell of a pity party.  If I could get paid to do this, I would have job security forever!  Another learning moment for me has been to find out there is always someone else that has it worse than me, even if it's only in their mind. Of course I feel like my pain wins over any one else's, as if it's a game, but that person feels the same.  Justifiably.  Whether it's the woman who is struggling in a relationship, or the friend who found out she has cancer...everyone has their own crosses to bear.  I feel so guilty sometimes because I'm so consumed with my own life and my own struggles, that I can't see the forest for the trees.  Here's this beautiful woman, with beautiful kids, who has a great body even after said kids, and I am so jealous. Jealous of the whole package...the skinny body, the supportive husband (not that mine isn't...he's great!), the kids, oh the kids, to learn she is having her own struggles that threaten all of that.  I'm so ashamed of how I felt and hope that I can continue to be a friend she can lean on even when things are going south for me.  I think of my friends who are pregnant right now or who have just had a baby. I love them dearly, and so want for them to be happy, but I can't look at their pictures or read their status updates without another piece of my heart breaking. I feel so guilty and ashamed for distancing myself from a friend because she was pregnant...distance because I didn't want to instill fear in her because of what we had just been through, and let's be honest, jealousy on my part that I wasn't pregnant, nor did I get to bring my son home the way I had envisioned it for 9 months.  I hope she understands and can forgive me.  There is alot of anger as well. Anger at women who are pregnant and irresponsible.  Do they not get what I would do to have a baby in my arms right now? To not be writing this blog with tears rolling down my face?  Not only do I just want to smack some sense into them (please go hug your children right now!), but it starts the roller coaster of questions all over again.  Why do they get to have more children when they can't/won't take care of the ones they already have? Why is it that I come home empty handed? What did I do in my life that warranted this kind of sentence?  I know that these are illogical questions, but they are emotional ones that I struggle with every single day.  How is it fair to ask my husband to go through this again?  I feel alot of guilt towards him as well.  I don't even know if he knows this. I'm not the girl he met 4 1/2 years ago, nor who he married almost 2 years ago.  I feel sorry that he's getting a whole used up side of me that he should never have to deal with.  He should be getting happily every after Aly, but instead is getting this. This mixed up person who is smiling one minute and bawling the next. This person who has the want to have another child and the anxiety of going through another pregnancy.
One day I'm going to write a whole post just dedicated to stupid people.  I'm sure that I've been one before to someone and if that's you, I SINCERELY apologize.  But let's get real people.  I know alot of people mean well but think before you speak!  I had someone recently describe how perfectly her pregnancy was going (PS--had no clue you were even pregnant, thanks!) and how she just prayed she didn't end up like me. While I understand where she was going with that, do you really think that anyone WANTS to end up like this?  Broken and broken hearted? Because I feel broken.  And another great one was: One day you too will be a mom.  Thanks you very much but I am a mom. Just because you can't see my son and he is no longer living, do NOT dismiss his life.  I've had someone tell me recently that at least my "miscarriage" went well.  Oh honey...been there and done that in November 2010.  This was not a miscarriage. This was a full grown little boy. This was a little boy who I got to see on ultrasound every couple of months. I got to see him smile and shake his fist like his daddy does.  I got to feel him flip and hiccup.  I got to get dizzy reading my book propped on my belly because it was moving so much.  I had a dang c-section.
We have alot of repeat "customers" at the rehab facility where I work as a speech language pathologist.  We have had several people come back to visit, and I'm ashamed that I kinda hide when they do.  I just don't feel up to the question of how Kiernan is doing...they don't know.  Maybe I should just tell them, but I'm just not up to it just yet.  Several of my current and former patients do know about it and they have been wonderful and sent beautiful messages of encouragement to me.  I did have somewhat of a break through for me last week. On two different occasions I had a patient ask me if I have any children.  My answer has usually been a quiet no with a quick change of subject.  On these two occasions I said "yes, but not living".  While they are somewhat shocked, they don't make a big deal out of it.  I will never forget my sweet patient Mrs. B who was with me when I received the call from Dr. Callison about the autopsy report.  I barely knew this lady (who happened to have been a teacher at my high school that I never had) and she just held my hand and let me cry.  I know that was unprofessional, but it couldn't be helped.  It was nice to be myself with her and she understood when I said I was having a bad day, it wasn't just because I was in a pissy mood.
I got off early one day last week and packed up the nursery alone. It was something I needed to do by myself.  While the closet is still packed with Kiernan's stuff (I had to quit after a while), the crib is down, and his announcement door hanger is gone, packed away.  I don't know what I will do with all of his clothes. I'm not ready yet.  One day.  The diapers and wipes are still packed up in the closet according to size.  Maybe I'm just wishful thinking that one day I will get to use them.  I gave away his diaper bag (it was monogrammed with a K).  I returned things that had been lent to me.  There is just a huge emptiness and sadness.
My sweet Kiernan Patrick was born on March 2, 2012 at 38 weeks.  I can't help but wonder what if I had had a c section at 37 weeks.  Would I have an alive son here with me now? Would I be getting ready to celebrate my first Mother's Day instead of dreading the holiday like it was the Plague? Those "what if" questions can ruin a good time, let me tell ya.  These are questions I will never have answers to.  There were no indications except he was a big baby and I was swelling like a balloon that he needed to come earlier.  Kiernan was born at 1040pm via c-section. We found out around 730 or 8pm that he no longer had a heart beat.  He was 19 1/2 inches long, and weighed 7 pounds and 4 ounces. He had light brown hair just like his daddy.  I hope for his short life that little boy knew how much we loved him and wanted him.

Sunday Blues

Some know this story, some may not. Here's some background info for my ranting later on... I had a missed miscarriage in November 2010.  The miscarriage happened at 12 weeks, but we later found out the baby did not make it past 7. I had a D&C.  That was what I thought was the most horrific thing that could ever happen to me. Steve was quiet and we didn't talk it about it much.  I tried to handle it and deal with it myself through talking with others that have been through it and by writing it down.  Eventually, the pain lessened and I feel guilty but I didn't think about it every day.
After we got back from Nashville for our 1 year anniversary, I found out I was pregnant again.  Boy did I have mixed feelings.  We went to the doctor and everything was great.  I had a pretty normal pregnancy, only getting high blood pressure towards the end.  I started some meds for it and it was under control.  Monday, Kiernan's heart rate was 150. Friday, Kiernan was dead. I remember laying in the hospital bed screaming that this couldn't be true.  Life just wasn't that cruel. We were 38 weeks and had already set up our c section time/date.  I remember the nurses shushing me and trying to calm me down. I remember overwhelming anger and just wanting to punch them in the face.  I felt like someone had ripped out my heart, then laughed in my face. The next few days are/were a blur.  I remember people coming by. I remember trying to act like I was normal.  This was just a bad bad dream.  But it wasn't.  So now, not only did I lose my baby, but I also had surgery that I was having to deal with as well.  As if it weren't bad enough, I will always have a physical scar as well as an emotional scar that my son was taken from me too early.  We hear all the cliche sayings...God only gives you as much as you can handle...It happened to you because you are strong and can handle it...One of my favorites was how special it was that I was a vessel for an angel into heaven.  Seriously? Because I call BS on every single one of those.  The cold hard facts are, my son is dead, and no one can bring him back or take away my pain. No one.
I was one of 5 people at work pregnant.  Some days I can handle it. Other days it's a slap in the face.  Not that I want anyone else to ever go through this, but I'm ashamed to say it runs through my mind why me and not them? What did I do wrong? What did I do during my life that warranted this to happen?  No, I don't want to see pictures of your new baby or hold him.  I want mine.  Alive and healthy. One of the girls started back to work this week and she asked me to give her hug.  I don't want to give you a hug. I want to scream because this happened to me and not to you.  Then I feel guilty for even thinking that for a split second.  However, life goes on.
We found out there was absolutely nothing they could find wrong with Kiernan.  Nothing from the Mayo Clinic, from chromosomal and genetic testing, or from the autopsy.  I will always wonder why.  I felt that sweet baby kick and hiccup.  I felt the somersaults and stretching.  I watched my body grow and was never so proud of it.
Now, I can honestly say I'm disgusted by what I see. Maybe it's because I have the weight gain and no baby.  I'm going with that right now.  However, I am eating well and trying to exercise when the plantar fasciitis isn't eating me alive.  I have 2 supportive coworkers and that helps a bunch.
I never forget about him, but some days are alot easier than others. Honestly, today is not one of those days.  Today I want to scream and cry and punch something.  I want it all to go away.  I want to be "normal".  I want my worst care in the world to be that I have to go to work tomorrow.  Today, I feel the world has moved on and forgotten about my grief and my sorrow.  I feel consumed by it, but noone sees it.  In a way, I want it to be that way. I don't want pity, and no one can understand.  Other moments I just want someone to show up, wrap their arms around me and force me to acknowledge how I feel.  I know Steve and I grieve differently, and I know Steve feels the loss of our baby deeply.  However, at times it's like he's moved on and I'm stuck in my hamster wheel going round and round with no end in sight.  From other women I've talked to who have been through this, it seems like this is a common difference between men and women.  So, for today, I'm trying to be ok with being sad and angry.  Tomorrow is always a fresh start.

The beginning...sort of...

PS--I'm bringing over my previous posts from my other blog (that I'm deleting). I'm so sad I can't bring your comments with me!

I got divorced in 2007 and moved to Rhode Island to begin a new life. Little did I know that I would meet the most wonderful man, who is now my husband. I met some wonderful people and have maintained some of those relationships since moving back to Bama. Steve and I will celebrate our 2 year anniversary this July.  Marrying him was the best thing I've ever done. He can make me laugh and make me cry all in the same second.  When you see him or talk to him, just say "worm" and see if he doesn't crack up!
We've been together for 5 years now.  We have been through some really great times and some really rough times.  Our relationship has survived 2 lay offs, 1 not so bad car wreck, 1 bad car wreck, a miscarriage, a cross country move, and now the death of our son 2 months ago.
Steve has taught me many things, some I never new about myself.  I'm worried and anxious where he is laid back and stress free.  He's taught me to camp and hike, but sadly, I still haven't mastered balancing on a bicycle after so many years off of one.  I HOPE I've taught him so patience and kindness, although he denies he has any.  Something that would surprise most people about me would probably be that I have 2 tattoos and I won't more (I'm sure Barbie is cringing right now).  I've been such a good girl my whole life, and it makes me feel a little bit like a wild child. Ha!
My mom is a great woman who has taught me many things in life. She and my sister will always be 2 of my very best friends.  My dad is not in the picture, and hasn't been more the last half of my life. That's a whole 'nother story that we just won't go into on here!
I now work as  a speech language pathologist in a rehab/geriatric setting. Most days, I love my job. There are definitely times when I wish I was a princess who didn't have to work, but that would last, oh about 4 days probably.
I miss my friends in RI, but specially my BIL Pat. He's an awesome guy, even when he's being scary Pat.
Again, I don't know who if any will ever read this.  But, I'm hoping it will guide me through some of the darker moments in my life and that I can share the better ones as well.
Here's to blogging!