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.