Captain Georgie

Well hello.
We completed an inventory process at work, and I was the "Inventory captain". As I have done this many times, it was an easy task for me to enter back into the routine of work. While we were working, there was another manager that was looking for a certain product and was not finding it. I went to look for it, and after searching and arguing, I located the product. I was quite elated. With a T.O. inspired end zone dance, I threw the clipboard down and did my best MC Hammer happy routine. As I watched the other manager in the midst of my celebration, I noticed the flash of disappointment and anger cross her face. I realized I was being a bit too gratuitous with my self-praise. Oops. Okay, so I didn't throw the clipboard down, but I was gloating a little bit. Okay, a lot. I felt so proud of myself, and to be honest, it was great to feel something positive. After weeks of dredging through the days, feeling as if the life was being vacuumed sucked out of me, it was great to feel useful and accomplished. At the end of the process, it was very successful, and we had a significant financial gain. Thank you very much, oh there I go again.

Last week was my birthday. I felt so down all day, I woke up with a gloom cloud over my head. I cried all the way to work. I don't know why. It should have been a happier day, but I just felt so bummy. I am blessed to work with wonderful people, and after being treated to lunch, I was given a great big birthday cake. I joked with the HR manager as I returned from lunch, asking where the heck my cake was, and was embarrassed and surprised to find the large cake waiting!

I still think of Riley all the time. It intensifying when I am driving home. It's like a loop playing over and over. I can't believe it's been two months since he passed away. It is starting to feel like a dream, both his life and death. Things start to turn fuzzy, memories fade around the edges, and days go by faster and faster. The holidays are approaching, and I would just like to sleep through everything. With the exception of Tommy, I just don't want to do anything. I am still sleepy all the time, and I wish I could find some solution for constant exhaustion. I feel like I just can't fully enjoy anything. I don't like to tap into my emotions, and I feel another internal dam being built. I haven't been to therapy since returning to work, as I work during the week, but I feel I should be making more effort.

I keep seeing babies everywhere, and I can't help but want another baby. I can really feel the aching and longing inside. I just don't know if I'm ready, but I sure do want another baby. A good friend of mine just had her baby, and he is in the hospital. He aspirated the meconium and is in Dell children's Hospital. Yes, that one has been crossed of my list, but I still want to go visit. Please pray for quick healing and recovery. It hurts my heart to see that little guy in the hospital bed, and I ache inside for the torment the parents are going through.

On another note, I have been watching the Thanksgiving cooking shows on TV, and I just can't wait to cook. I think I will make an apple pie like my mom used to make. Yum.

Back to Reality

So, the first week of work is over. I am so happy for the weekend to arrive, I am exhausted. Trying to look busy at work all day is very tiring. Ha.
I absolutely love my job, and I am blessed to work with wonderful people. Although, I couldn't help but feel like I was handled with care, like I would break if I was shaken too hard. I do appreciate the concern, and it was an easier transition then I thought. Only one person asked me about Riley, so in one week, not so bad. I still feel cloudy headed and unfocused. I enjoy the challenges of my job, and I was excited when my advice was sought after. I felt useful again. My former confidence is slowly seeping back in.

I still find myself easily flustered. Then I want to cry and just escape. I drove around for 45 minutes on my lunch break looking for a Bank of America, only to find the location was 3 minutes away from my work. Ugh, it was tucked back in the damn trees, and I wanted to yell at someone for the poor placement of the bank. Grrrr. There was a moment when the store felt like it was a part of Babies on Parade. I saw so many babies. It was like shoving an alcoholic in a liquor store for an hour. It was painful.

I felt so anxious the first day to get home to Tommy. I have an underlying fear of something happening to him. Yesterday my brother called me twice, and I missed both phone calls. I immediately thought something was wrong, and I freaked out. But, no, nothing was wrong. I will forever have fears of something happening to my children.

So other then work, nothing much going on. I am happy to be back in the swing of things, and I am looking forward to regaining my full mental capacity. My birthday is coming up in a few days. I can't believe it's November already. Oh time flies. I have been making jewelry, and I am really enjoying it. I would take pictures and post them, but I am afraid to charge my camera. I don't know what pictures might be on the camera, and I haven't gotten the courage to charge it. I will someday. Soon, it's almost Christmas.

Okay, love to all. I'm going to play outside with my favorite little boy.

Well hello again

So, it's been a while. Why, you ask? No clue. Just didn't darn well feel like it. The past few weeks have been about the same. Good days and bad days, mixed together with a blender, all leaking into each other. Some days I feel normal. I feel like life is worth living and I have hope and a pleasant disposition. Other days I feel groggy, cloudy-headed and grumpy. Eye brows pointed down in a mean looking scowl.

I sit on our bed and fold clothes and stare vacantly at the pictures on our dresser. My favorite is a picture of Tommy and Riley. Riley is looking right into the camera and he just seems so alive. It feels like it has forever since he passed away. At the same time it feels like yesterday.
Some days I feel like my limbs weigh a hundred pounds each. I slug through each day, waiting for the day to wind down. Hours. minutes. I read a book a day. I hide my feelings in my novels, escaping into story after story.

The good days feel like the moments after the storm when the sun pokes through the clouds. I feel happy. A very simple, honest statement. I hope to have more good days then bad.
I go back to work Monday. Day after tomorrow. Last week, before I officially committed to it, I felt ready, and somewhat excited about going back. I felt the small inkling of "stir crazy-ness" and after long days with Tommy...I felt ready to go back. After making the call, and setting the date...now I feel like calling back and saying Just kidding! Now, with the day getting closer, I feel nervous and scared again. I talked about this with my counselor on Thursday, and she suggested talking to my manager about having a message released about people addressing me about Riley. That way people don't even have to worry about what to say to me, not that I am at the center of the universe, but I really don't want to talk about it. I am looking at work as a means of escape right now. Right now, my days are filled with very little, spending time with Tommy but not much else. My mind is left to think, left to it's own destructive devices sometimes. And I am about done being home with Tommy. I adore and love the boy, but he is tiring, as a 4 year old can be.

I am glad I am going to counseling, I really like her. I never felt that it would be a fit for me, but most sessions I feel like skipping to my car afterwards. I feel lighter, open, and free. I keep the little ball of emotions right in my chest, physically impacted by grief. Talking about my feelings has never been something that I have ever felt comfortable with, but it works. Oh, I like it.

I just want to have fun, feel like the weight is gone. Last night we went to the Halloween party (dressed as zombies...ironic) but we just weren't feeling it. I could have indulged and got toasty, but I just didn't feel like it. I see everyone having fun, and I want to cry. I was talking with another mom about her baby monitor, and she told us how much it cost. A pretty penny, but she said it gave her piece of mind. Oh what I wouldn't do to turn back time, buy, steal, beg, borrow that video monitor. After that conversation, it was like a switch flipped. Annnnd done. I feel like I failed all over again.

Tommy bit someone at school last week, and while the teacher was telling me about it, I felt shameful, like the stink of parental failure was oozing off of me. I wanted to cry, I wanted to spank Tommy's backside off. I feel I have always doubted myself as a parent, and Rileys death was a giant slap in the face. More pity party for me. I have been on a three day stretch of bad days.

And so now I have one more day before I return to a "normal" day of my life. Back to the way it was, only with no little baby.

My Story

I caution reading this, as I am pouring my personal thoughts into this. I need a release, a way to let it out. This is my story of losing my son.

Josh's car had broken down, and was in the shop,and my father in law took me to work that day. Looking back, I can only think that was meant to happen that way.

I woke up at 2:30am to feed Riley, and after eating, he went back to sleep. I was to be at work at 7am that morning. After getting ready, I went into the bedroom to kiss my boys goodbye. I leaned into our bed and kissed Tommy, and then walked to the crib. I stoked Riley's back, he barely stirred, his hand moved. I leaned down and kissed his head and said goodbye.

At 8:15am I received the phone call. My cell phone rang, and I was in my office so I answered it. It was my father in law. I could tell in his voice, as he spoke the words that something was wrong. I don't remember quite exactly what he said, but his voice cracked with emotion as he said that when Joan went to wake Tommy for school, she saw Riley was stuck in between the mattress and the crib. My heart sank, and I asked if he was alright, he said that the paramedics were working on him. At that moment, I knew it was serious. He asked me to call Josh.

I remember my hands shaking so hard, I could barely find his work number in my phone, I called his cell first, with no answer. When I got through to his work, I screamed at the girl that it was an emergency and I needed to talk to Josh right away. When I was on hold, Josh called me back. When I answered, I remember screaming into the phone, "Riley's dead!", and something else, I don't know why I said those words. I had not received true notice yet that he was dead, why would I say that? I don't know. I needed someone to come pick me up, but Josh was much closer to the house, so he wanted to go straight home. I said that I would call Krissy to come get me. I called Krissy, and don't even remember having that conversation.

At some point, someone at work must have heard my screaming or crying, and although I had closed my door, another manager came in. I remember him asking me what was wrong, and I just screamed and collapsed. I remember him pulling me into a chair. I remember his hand on my knee, and seeing his hand shaking, then I realized that I was shaking violently. I remember screaming out, "God, please don't take my baby", over and over. As he hugged me, I barely remember his words, but he kept saying, "it will be alright", over and over. I knew that it wouldn't.

It was like a shift, a mental off switch. I felt numb. But not as numb as I would later. My therapist says that it is one of the body's defense mechanisms when the brain encounters trauma. As I waited for Krissy to get there, either I called her or she called me, I don't remember. She asked how I was doing, and I do remember screaming back into the phone at her, "How the Fuck Do YOU THINK I AM DOING?". Sorry Krissy. Another manager then came and helped me and Cliff outside to wait for Krissy. I felt like I was in a haze, in a dream. I dropped my purse, I didn't care. My arms could no longer hold it. We waited outside, and in seconds, Krissy arrived. I remember someone else from the store coming out to see if I was okay. I got into the car, and we started to head home. I remember telling Krissy that he was dead. She said you don't know that. I said they haven't called. If there was good news, they would call, bad news....no call. Then my phone rang. My heart sprang. It was my father in law, telling me that they had a pulse, and were transporting him to Dell Children's Hospital. Josh was with them in the ambulance.

We changed course and headed for the hospital. I called Josh, and could hear the sirens over his voice. When we got to the hospital, we didn't know exactly where to go. She dropped me off at the emergency entrance. I walked to the desk, and the lady entered my name, and gave me a stupid name tag with smiling children on it. She directed me towards the call and said someone would meet me. As I walked down the hall, I still felt numb. A woman approached me, and introduced herself as the chaplain. Shit. I started crying again, said that I had already lost my parents, why my child. She calmed me, and told me that my husband was already here, and that I had to calm myself, they were working on him. She led me to the room. I saw Josh sitting in the chair, with bloodshot eyeing, crying. I remember feeling so bad that he was by himself. We embraced, crying. They led us to chairs, and another woman introduced herself. I barely remember her words. I remember looking over at the hospital bed, so huge in comparison to the tiny little being that was being furiously worked on in it. I could barely see him through the tangle of wires, nurses and cords. I heard shouts of medical terms, some I recognized, being thrown back and forth to the medical team. Josh and I sat there, holding hands. I prayed for anything, anything. I pleaded with God, begged, and sobbed for him to give me back my baby. I would raise a a disabled child, anything, don't take my baby. As the lady whispered explanations into my ear, I continued to nod, as if I understood. At one point, one of the doctors yelled that they had a pulse, I looked up and clearly remember locking eyes with one of the nurses. It was if she could feel the urgency in my stare. It seemed like hours, then a team from the NICU unit came down, and another rush of hope surged through me, they were seeming more positive that he would be alright. Then, with everyone there, I remember the doctor coming over to us and kneeling before our seats. For a second, I thought she was going to explain what was going to happen next, but then I saw the loss and sorrow in her eyes. She said that there was nothing more they could do, he didn't have a pulse any longer, nothing. I don't remember everything that she said, my mind stopped listening.

I screamed, I clutched Josh and I screamed. Over and over. My baby, my baby. No, not my baby. I can't express the torment, the onslaught of emotions. It didn't seem real. It was just seconds before, and they had hope. Cruel hope. I heard the words of the doctor as she pronounced the time of death. I remember wanting to shove away from everyone, run away, pretend like this didn't just happen. I wanted my mom.

The moments directly after this, I do not remember much at all. My entire body was numb. I stated earlier that I felt numb, that was nothing compared to this feeling. My limbs felt like each one had been tied to 50lb weights. I couldn't move, I could barely breathe. I was worried about Josh. He has never had to experience loss. I was so worried and just overwhelmed with concern for him. I remember bits and pieces, flashes in my memory. From what had once been a room filled with 30 people, filled with energy, had dwindled to few, like a switch had been flicked, the spirit in the room died. I didn't know what to do. I felt like I could run a thousand miles and at the same time, sleep for years. Such an odd feeling.

I remember talking to some people, some taking our information, I don't remember what else. I remember sitting in the chair, watching as a nurse cleaned and wrapped him in a blanket, looking like a newborn. They gave us time alone with Riley. I looked down at the bed, at the little baby that was one my precious son. He chest rose and then fell, like taking a deep breath. My heart stopped. I stammered to the nurse about what I saw, and she explained it was the bodies reflexes. That was like a knife, twisting deep into my heart, a cruel devilish joke. He looked asleep. I picked him up, and he felt so heavy in my arms, I had him for seconds, and then said to Josh that I couldn't hold him. I remember telling myself that I would not regret this. That this was not my baby, he was gone to heaven, this was his shell. I chanted to myself this over and over. Well, now. I regret this. I will have to live with this, and I hate this feeling. I should have held him, rocked him. Josh instead held him and gently walked over to the rocker and sat down. I will never forget the sight of him sobbing over Riley, holding our son. Riley's chest was still moving up and down, and I couldn't take the sight of it. It was unnerving. It was unnatural. It went against all the feelings, to be told he was dead, then to see him seem alive. His coloring was starting to fade. His lips turning blue.

We sat there for long moments, not know what to say. My body and mind had shut down. Words escaped me. I stroked his head, he was gone. Gone, and it was over. This is never supposed to happen, the loss it far to great for a parent to bear. I had to get out of the room. I didn't want to leave Josh, but I couldn't stay. The chaplain walked me outside. We just sat on a bench. I felt torn about being away from Josh, and yet I didn't want to be back in that room. Death held a heavy veil over that room.

Again, I don't remember much. I remember my brother and sister in law coming in. I have only seen my brother cry maybe 3 times in my life, this was one of them. I watched as they leaned over Riley, laying back on the hospital bed. Time moved in slow motion. My brother and I went outside. I felt bad for not being next to Josh the entire time, but I think that we each needed our space, and we would reunite together soon.

Many things happened that day, they moved him into another room, and the pastor from Josh's parents house came. Josh dressed him, I couldn't bear it. I still can't imagine what he felt while dressing our little boy in an outfit. Our beautiful baby. We all gather together to pray. I remember the pastor saying he looked so perfect, so beautiful. In my head, I wanted to scream, "Perfect? Except for the fact that he is DEAD". We all stayed in the room, saying good byes. Everyone left so Josh and I could be alone with him. We sat on the edges of the bed, and I said I'm so sorry, so sorry. My baby boy. He was supposed to be mine, my little version. His little tongue was sticking out, just like he used to do. I remember thinking about his eyes. They were such a beautiful color, gray blue with hits of green or brown around the edges. I told him that I wished we could have seen what color his eyes would have been. We cried and laid over him, saying good bye. I kissed his forehead, now cold.

We left. I was gone. Emotionally, mentally gone. Several conversations had to be held, CPS, Travis County, etc. I remember them shuffling us from area to area. I remember Joan trying to talk to someone on the phone about what happened, and I could tell they couldn't hear her. She said over and over, "My grandson Riley died today". I couldn't take it. I wanted to run away again.

We finally were able to leave. I can't even begin to explain how I felt. It was like leaving that hospital, a piece of my heart and soul was left behind. I have been making it through, but I died a little back there. Deep on the inside. A part to always remain. I have a list of hospitals that I hate, one that my dad died in, and now another that I have to cross off my list.

I have struggled, and continue to struggle with the "what-ifs". As many times as people say, and as many times as I tell myself, it still seems to do no good. What if I had just stayed home, taken a longer maternity leave. I had just gone back to work the previous week. What if I had switched shifts, like Josh and I had talked about the night before. He was right in the middle of the crib when I left in the morning, what if I had just picked him up, told Joan to feed him. What if I had just been better, what if I had bought that baby monitor. What if.... It still kills me. I feel like a failure. Our job in life is to take care of our children. Keep them safe. I failed. I lost my baby.

I regret not holding him. As much as I forced myself to believe that I wouldn't in that moment, I do. I feel like I rejected him. I have to get over that, and in time I will. I regret not calling my Mom back the few times she called before she died. I regret being angry with my Dad before he died, separating myself from him due to teenage angst.

I m so angry, so lost, so tired. I feel compelled to reach out to God, and I have been. But I still feel myself clinging to my grief. I am not letting go, for reasons I have no idea. It's only been a month, and I know from experience that the grieving cycle is a long journey.

I do remember talking to the sheriff. At the end of our conversation, he asked if there was anything that he could do for me. I turned, looked into his eyes, and asked, "Tell me how do I live? How do I keep going?". He said, very simply, "You will".

And I will.

My release came.

Lego's and Lonely.

Yesterday was a long day, but a nice one. Tommy and I had to get up early to take Josh's parents to the airport. Tommy was quite disappointed that in the past week he has made two trips to the airport, but has not gotten on a plane, nor has been able to see a plane take off. He keeps asking when Daddy will be home, and I will tell him, 4 nite-nites. He then ponders that and says, "no...two!". I tell him that Daddy will be home Friday night. He then asks what day today is, and then the argument becomes circular, as he continues to believe he can negotiate his fathers return date. It's funny. The first few times...

After the airport trip, we came home and still had a couple of hours before Tommy went to school. I tried to lure him into cuddling with me on the couch, but he wanted to play. So I laid on the couch with one arm dangling down on the ground, half heartedly playing with the trains. He could tell I wasn't fully invested in this playtime, so I swear he sighed, got the blanket and covered me, turned on the TV and said, "here Mama, watch TV". Oh my Tommy. I took him to school and he sprinted for the door before I was done getting his backpack out of the car. His teacher had been on vacation and he was beyond excited to see her. He was already hugging her legs by the time I had gotten to the classroom. I love that he enjoys school so much, it has been great for him.

While Tommy was at school, I met up with a friend and had another wonderful lunch. I picked Tommy up and we went home. All by ourselves. The big house so empty and quiet. The rest of the afternoon was spent playing Lego's for hours. Then trains, then Lego's. We went to Target and he got a cheap helicopter toy. I love his laugh, the deep guttural laugh, when something is so funny. The helicopter would dance around the coffee table, barely hovering, but he thought it was hysterical. Every inch of the living room is covered with Lego's, trains, books, and blocks. Humongous mess. Each time I tried to pick it up, it didn't last long. After dinner, bath time, and reading time, we watched a movie. He curled up in my lap and fell asleep. There is nothing better then the feeling of holding your child in your arms while they are deep in sleep. For one, they are quiet. Just kidding. He is so beautiful when he sleeps. I carried him to his bed, then I had quiet time.

I purchased a new purse the other day, and switched out all of the items from my old to my new. In a fold in the bottom of the old purse, I found one of Riley's pacifiers. Holding it in my hand, I felt mixed emotions. Honestly, I wanted to suck on it, connect with Riley, odd I know. I thought back to the memories with the pacifier. Neither of my children ever really took to pacifiers, but we still tried when nothing else seemed to work. My heart stopped for a minute when I saw it. I miss holding him up, face to face, nose to nose. When he was hungry, he would lean into my face and starting sucking on my nose. I always thought that was so funny. God, it still hurts so bad. In four days he would have been 4 months old.

My "homework" from my personal counselor was to take some quiet time, relax and try to let myself grieve. Let go of whatever seems to keep me from opening my vault of feelings, and release. So far, I am failing. I tried. I tried last night, and this morning while sitting on the back porch. I can't explain it, the block, the dam holding back the flood of my emotions. Maybe it will come, in it's own time. Like a quiet monster, waiting to jump out of the closet and surprise me.

I don't know. I feel quite lonely today.

On a side note, Josh's cat is going CRAZY. This thing is running all over the house, and then he will stop right in front of me, meow really loud and crazy-like, then dart off. It's like he just stopped to yell at me. He finally resorting to coming around me and rubbing against my legs, as if to say, "fine, I guess I'm stuck with you". But then I shoo him away (I don't like him that much), and he turns back at me and gives me a kitty Go-to-hell look. Fine by me. Furry punk.

Hoping for the Best

Well, in just a couple hours, I will be at my appointment with the counselor. I am so nervous about it, and I don't know exactly why. I think one of the reasons the meeting with the church counselor went well for me on Sunday was that Josh was with me. I miss my husband. We have only been apart from each other this long one other time since we have been together. Josh went to the Katrina area to volunteer with clean up for a week after the hurricane. He did call me after each flight yesterday to confirm that he was still alive after each landing. I'm so glad he can deal with my neurosis.

Josh's parents leave Wednesday morning and I will be all by myself with Tommy. I am looking forward to some cozy Tommy time. I went to Half Priced Books and purchased about ten new books, from the $1 children's clearance section. We've got some reading to do! Of course I picked up a few selections for myself as well...

I wonder if I will cry during my meeting today. I can count on one hand the times I have unabashedly cried over Riley. For some reason, the tears do not come, and I do not force them. I suppose it's a defense mechanism, or that I want to remain stronger for whatever reason. It's hard to cry in front of people, I am not a hugger. And for some reason, when you cry, people want to hug you. I suppose it's the only thing that feels natural to do. I just want to curl up in a ball and hide in a closet. Then gather myself up, wipe myself off, pick up a shoe and come out of the closet saying, "Found it! I thought the shoe was in there. Just needed a minute to look".

Who knows. I hope I like her. I hope I let myself be free. I hope I will quit being so nervous! I'm not going for a job interview for goodness sakes. I hope she won't look at me at the end of the session, and with a forced smile give me names of other counselors that might suit me better.

Well, whatever happens, I hope I will feel better.

Bubble it Up.

Today Josh and I went to church, and it was nice. I feel like it starts the day off well. Josh will be going out of town tomorrow, and I have to say that I am nervous. I would like to put my entire family into a bubble and protect them from any harm or illness. I know this sounds crazy, but I can't stand the thought of anything happening to him. I have told God that he is not allowed to have anyone else for the time being. Thank you very much.

Josh will gone until Friday for training for work, and I will have the house to myself on Wednesday and Friday when Tommy goes to school. I have made several plans for company this week, and I am looking forward to each date.

I love spending time with Josh. We were able to go to a late dinner last night, and today we spent the day together. After church we went over to my brothers for a bit, and then to the store. After we dropped Tommy off with Josh's parents, we then went to our counseling session. I think it went well. I didn't really know what to expect, as those close to you know, I am not a big fan of opening up and talking. The first session was really a way for us to get to know the counselor and our background. I did enjoy speaking with her.

Josh and I made a commitment to set time aside for us to meet with her, and give us an opportunity to focus on our grief and loss. I realized that as the words came out of my mouth, I hadn't really thought about it like that, but as I spoke it made sense. We can travel through our days, living our new life, and a sense of normalcy can set in quite quickly. This can then be a hindrance to us emotionally, as we are not moving through the "grief cycle". Everyone handles loss and grief differently, and I think that through this, we can come together and work towards overcoming any obstacles that we will encounter. I was encouraged at Josh's willingness and enthusiasm, and I felt renewed with the feeling that we can come together more and more as a couple. We will be stronger together because of this.

I have never felt comfortable with counseling, and I have only been to a counselor once when I was still living with my parents, when Dad was very ill. Just didn't seem to fit with me. I have an appointment with another counselor on Tuesday, as I feel I would like some additional time for myself to sort through the gamut of emotions that continue to bubble up. But, I can see this as being a positive thing, that's what I continue to tell myself.

After counseling, we grabbed a bite to eat, and then went to the movies. Social Network, I recommend it, quite a decent movie.

Sometimes I feel guilty for not thinking of Riley all of the time. I believe I am still in the "denial" stage of grief, as I still can't fathom that this event happened. When I do allow myself to reach into those emotions and picture his beautiful little face, I feel empty and forlorn. I wish I could rewind the last month. Today is exactly one month. I need to find a large family size bubble.

Well it worked, sort of

Started off sad, but I stuck to my plans!

Someone called me today, not a close friend, but someone I worked with. She said, you must miss Riley so much. "Miss him? MISS HIM?", I don't know why I felt so annoyed at the simple comment. It's like going up to an amputee and glancing at the spot where their arm was and saying, "Man, you must really miss your arm, huh?".


Miss him doesn't even begin to explain the feeling. It's like a part of you was torn away, an act of separation that goes against nature. Parents should never have to feel the loss of a child, it's just wrong. It's a tormenting relentless ache in your chest, a physical pain that changes you. It's a gut wrenching, heart stopping feeling that makes you feel helpless and lost. Something was stolen from you, and a piece of you is now missing. Searching for the reasons and answers does nothing to ease the pain, but you still feel compelled to try.

Today is my Mother's Birthday. Happy Birthday Mom! I realized it when I was driving home last night. After my Dad died, I would still buy Father's Day cards and birthday cards for him. I would write a message to him, tell him how much I loved him, and how much I miss him. Then I would seal it and throw it away. It's purpose was fulfilled. It helped me to reach out to him, imagine him reading the message from heaven, and it connected us again. I think I will buy a birthday card for my Mom. I know I still haven't fully recovered from her death, it was too much of a shock. I just shoved it down and moved on. Repress now, therapy later. Well...now it's later.

But on the upside, I finally found a counselor that I think I will be comfortable talking to, and an appointment has been set! I am quite excited and looking forward to it. For reasons I can't understand, I just feel it might be refreshing to talk to someone who doesn't know me, and is not going through a grieving cycle themselves. We have an appointment Tuesday, so we shall see. Josh and I are meeting with a counselor at the church on Sunday, so we will see how that goes as well.

I stuck to my plan of keeping busy and active, and again I had a great day. I got my nails done, went to dinner and a comedy club. All afternoon and evening I laughed and laughed. I have wonderful friends.

I feel like I am forgetting something that I was supposed to do this weekend. Today my brain completely left me while at the grocery store. As I have previously stated, I need a personal driver. Today, after returning into the car, I put the van in reverse. I failed to remember that I had done this, and as I searched for my phone in my purse with solid concentration, I did not realize that the van was slowly moving backward across the parking lot. Bam! Right into a curb. Thank God that was all that I hit, and I looked up from my searching wondering who just hit me... I then looked around to see all the people staring at me. Nice. I remember a fleeting thought pass through my mind as I saw the cars next to me move away, "huh, that's funny, both cars leaving at the same time. Hmm. Where is that darn phone?" I am losing it.

Whew, I am tired now. Everyone else is asleep, and I think I will join them. Tomorrow, if I don't remember what I was supposed to do, I am going to clean. That's my plan.

It's all in the planning

So, I seem to have discovered a pattern of my moods recently. I may have figured out this bi-polar grief roller coaster. I have noticed that certain days are better than others, and by golly, I think I've got it. On the "bad days", as I call them, I stay at home, wallowing in the depths, slugging my way through the day, giving everyone the stink eye. On my "good days",I am out and about, meeting up with people, getting out of the house, and showering...
So, I have decided to try to have a nice balance of days filled with a sprinkling of human interaction. I put out the memo to friends, and have a nice social calendar brewing. Especially for next week, as Josh will be out of town for work. I like this, it gives me something to look forward to, and I leave each "date" with such a happy feeling.

Today I felt joyful. Until just now, I just realized I ate the last of the chocolate covered pretzels and I swear I had one more in that bag. I didn't have a chance to savor that one last bite. I thought I had one more in there. There you go...a life lesson. Savor each chocolate covered pretzel. You never know if the next time you reach your hand back into the bag if it will be empty. And now I'm sad.

Back to my plan. I remove myself from my stinky (literally) pit of despair, and get back at it. I have lunch dates, movie dates, and a mani-pedi date. I just needed something for next Friday during the day...

So yes, today was joyful. God and I made up, and I felt happy. I had lunch with some great people, and it was a nice long lunch where you linger for a while and just talk. I finished making the earrings to complete a set I made for my aunt, and sent it away in the mail. Then, I came home and had a box waiting for me! Goodies from my aunt! Yay! An adorable top, a WONDERFUL craft tote, a book (!), lots of great beads, and more bead storage containers. Loved it. What a great surprise and I loved each and every item. I remember when my Mom mailed me a care package when I was in college. I called her and said, "Mom, you live 15 minutes away, seriously?...". But it was nice to get something in the mail, and spend the time unpacking everything. Getting mail is much more fun, real tangible mail!

My mission of trying to rope in a counselor is still underway. Paula Dean had a wait list, I still have messages that I left for 4 other counselors, and the only one that called me back sounded like she was a nice old lady. I don't know if I feel comfortable spilling my guts to grandma, and I do not mean to offend. I hate to seem so picky, but as Mary pointed out, I need to feel a connection and feel comfortable, so I am continuing to try. I have a good feeling about one I called today. I will stalker call these people if that's what it takes.

Other then my phone calls, I ran a few errands and just felt joyful. I was singing and dancing along to the music, and was happy to be out and about. Yet after I ate lunch, I felt rushed like I needed to get home. That was the feeling I always had with Riley, I think with any baby that young. But then, it was like my brain had pushed it away and was so happy for the joy, it forgot reality. And then I remember I don't have to rush home. Sometimes grief hits you like a brick wall. It tightens my chest and takes my breath away. Even now, recounting the feeling makes me step back and lose my train of thought. I still sometimes have trouble fully comprehending he is dead. I keep picturing him so alive in my mind.

Ugh, back to the joy! please, get back there! Happy thoughts...happy thoughts.
I still have plans for tomorrow, and will have another good day tomorrow. I will plan on calling more counselors. Darn it, I keep reaching for the Pretzel bag! I plan on buying more of those tomorrow....

Well that was fast...

So yesterday I was thankful. I felt nervous all day, but other then that, not an entirely bad day. Josh didn't work so we were able to spend some time together.

Today, not so much. I don't feel nervous, but I am angry. I'm pissed. I haven't been on Facebook in a while and I was today, and came across someone that just had a baby. Two days after Riley was born. Beautiful baby, happy pictures. Now all I feel is anger, resentment and jealousy. Like a dark cloud that surfaces right before a thunderstorm, you look up and wonder when that got there. I am intelligent enough to know that these feelings do no good, but today I feel tired of trying. I am tired of trying to pretend I'm not mad or upset. I want to get in a fight, beat someone up, express some of my pent up hostility.
This is nasty, horrible and I would never do this, but dammit today I'm done. Tomorrow may be another story, in five minutes it might be another story.
But right now.....

God, you are on my shit list right now.

I am Thankful..

Today I want to be thankful. I want to share everything that I thank God for everyday. As I root around in the depths of my sadness, I am constantly reminded of all that I have in my life to give sweet thanks for.

I give thanks for my family. Ten years ago, I stumbled across a dorky boy, shy but sweet. From the moment we first talked, looking into those big brown eyes, I was gone. Gone into a relationship with the man I would marry and start a family. We have had our share of ups and downs, but I have seen him emerge into a wonderful strong man, who has my heart always. He is my best friend, he knows me more than anyone, and I love that he can read me like an open book. We still talk for hours, hug for no reason, and can read each others mind. I think back to when we first met, when my Dad was still alive. Josh and I had only been out on a few dates. My Mom and I went out of town to visit family, and Dad died while we were gone. I came home to be with my brother, I didn't want him to be alone. Josh and I had just started dating, and the first time he met my family was when the door opened and he was bombarded by all of my family staring at him in the doorway. I remember him driving around, not being awkward or uncomfortable with me, as many do during those immediate moments following death. He held my hand, then me and let me cry. I love him will all of my heart and beyond that, he is the peanut butter to my jelly. I am so thankful for his love.
This time for us now will be the most difficult thing that we will ever have to endure, but I know that we will remain strong, and we are bonded together for an eternity.

I am so thankful for the wonderful bouncing boy that entered into our lives four years ago. I was unsure and scared of being a mother, I never considered myself the "motherly" type. But enter Tommy, and he has filled my life with so much joy and love, that sometimes I feel my heart overflowing. He has such a wonderful and funny personality, with each day bringing something out that makes me smile. My favorite times are in the mornings when he just wakes up, and comes to our bed. He crawls up and gets face to face with me, and then smiles. He says, "love you mama", with no solicitation. I love laying in bed with him, as he leans his head on my shoulder and cuddles into me, reading ALL of his books. He has a sweet nature, and loves to give hugs and kisses. I know that he will grow to be an amazing man, with so much to give. I thank God that I was given an opportunity to be a mother to this wonderful little man.

I am thankful for the time that I was given with my baby Riley. He made our family complete, and he always will. He will always hold a special place in our hearts. He was so tiny, such a little package of joy when he was born. He cried more and slept less, but I cherish every sleepless moment that I was holding him, and would listen to him cry for a million years. I loved that he was just starting to smile, and that I would lay him down and tickle his belly, and he would smile this huge grin up at me. I miss laying on the bed, with him next to me, just watching him sleep. I loved giving him a bath, his legs pumping with excitement. He enjoyed having the water on his head. I loved to rock him and just have him sleep on my chest, stroking his soft head. I loved his little toes, just like Josh's toes. I thank God that I was given the time with him. Given another chance to be a mother and have a baby to cherish.

I am thankful for the wonderful parents I was given to. I remember thinking and telling my mom when I was in high school, that I hope I can have a child someday, and make them feel as special as you make me feel. My mom would do anything for me, and even though she couldn't go to all of my events, or cheer me on at every game, I knew she wanted to be there. She helped me with projects, encouraged me when I was down, and pushed me when I was procrastinating. Our house was a different household, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. When my father would come up to school, people would stare. I would drape my arms over him, hug and love on him, and tell him he was the best father in the world. I was proud to have him as my Dad. No, he couldn't pick me up and hold me, or drive me to school, or make me dinner, but I could sit on his lap, and he could speed down the street, even without a car. He had a sense of humor that was endless and he carried himself without self pity. Even if he did get down, as I know he must have, it was never shared with me. From my parents, I learned that life can suck. It can and will be hard. But it's how you deal with the cards that are dealt that make you who you are. Laugh and life will be funny, smile and life will be happy.

I am thankful for my husbands parents. They are wonderful people, who would give anything to anyone. With giving hearts, they are an example of the selfless lives we are to live. I remember meeting Josh's mom for the first time, knowing she was special. I talked with her after my father died, and it was her encouragement and love that helped me open up and talk, meaning so much to me to be there without really even knowing me. She always has a positive outlook and disposition, without focusing on the hardships in life. I look at them as my parents, and thank God for having them in my life. They are wonderful parents and wonderful grandparents.

I thank God for my family. I have adored my brother for as long as I can remember. I always looked forward to seeing him again, letting me crawl on him, poke him and bug him as a little sister can. I longed for a relationship with him, and was thankful that we were given a chance to get to know each other. He moved in with us when Dad was very sick, and I am glad he came back down. I remember watching the Real World together, and laughing together. I would do anything for him, be anywhere and will always look up to him and adore him. He has a strength and fortitude that I don't even think he realizes. His words helped comfort me in the darkest moment, right after Riley died. He is my deep connection to a family now gone.

I am thankful for his first wife and her husband. They are wonderful people and despite the odds and past, they work together to form a wonderful family unit. I love my nieces with all of my heart, I love them like I love my own children. His two oldest daughters are blossoming into beautiful strong women. Full of strength, yet with a tinge of delicate children still there. I love my niece Hailey, she is my other daughter. Who knows if someday I will have a daughter, but I was given three wonderful girls to share my girly hopes and dresses with.

I am thankful that my brother was lucky enough to meet another wonderful woman, words cannot express the amount of love I have for her. She is my best friend, and I love her with all of my heart. I can count on her to call me when I need her, like she has a built in alert button that lights up when I have an issue. She is strength when I am weak, light when I am in the dark, a smile when I have a frown, an ear when I need to talk, a face to stare at when I just want to sit in quiet, and a joyful laugh to share when I need a release. With her came a wonderful little boy, who has grown to be a sweet spirit, a gentle teenager, with so much love. He handles the children climbing all over him, and with no angst he accepts their clamoring with a quiet smile. He is a wonderful and talented person, with an endless future and countless gifts. The word adore does nothing to convey the essence of my feelings for each and every one of them.

I am thankful for my mother's family, her mother, her two sisters and my cousins. On my father side I now that I have a huge extended family, but through time, we have lost touch. I miss the feeling of family, that feeling that takes you back to how you felt growing up. I can picture a scene in my childhood, an early morning where sunlight is just streaming through the windows. My father and mother in the living room, both greeting me as I enter. Walking past the sunlight, I feel the warmth of the sun, just as I feel the warmth of their love. I curl up on my mother's lap and she kisses my cheek. She gets up to make me something to eat, and I feel loved. Being around my mother's family brings me back to that feeling. I love my aunt's and each of them possess traits that reminds me of my mother. I love to hear stories of my parents, and it connects me to a feeling I often miss without realizing.

I am thankful for my friends. The past few weeks have been the hardest for me, but with the pain, their love and support overflowed. Nothing can ease the severe grief of losing a child, but the encouragement, thoughts and prayers held me up from drowning. I have realized that we are given gifts of friendship in life and ever more now, I cherish each relationship.

I am blessed to have my best friend Mary. We have known each other since the 6th grade, and have been best friends since high school. Two peas in a pod, we fit together. I can confide in her my deepest thoughts, and without judgement, she is always there for me. She has countless patience with me, and through everything, she has been there. I know we will be friends for the rest of our lives. She is my lifeline and she is the most giving and wonderful person, a rainbow at the end of my storm.

I am thankful for my work, and all the support I have received during several phases of my life. I love going to work, and each day is a new challenge, sometimes frustrating and most times rewarding. I am thankful for their understanding and encouragement.

I am thankful that I can share all of this, as I know that I have been very blessed. It makes me realize all that I have been given, and despite feeling like everything has been taken away, I feel renewed with the understanding of all that I have.

So, thank you. To each and every one of you. Thank you for all that you have done for me, and all that I have. Thank you God, for bestowing upon me these wonderful people and relationships.

I am so very thankful...

My Escape

I can't seem to think of anything to write. I always feel a little better after sharing my thoughts here, I but I feel stymied, a mental block. I have been reading a lot more lately. I understand why Josh plays video games, I always have. But now so more then ever. I read, and I enjoy to read as a means of escape. My mind can concentrate on the story, and I don't have a chance to wander into my swampy thoughts. If I could, I would have a room in my house dedicated to reading. I suppose they would call that room a library. I want floor to ceiling bookcases, brimmed to the edges with books. And an over sized comfy chair, with a well placed window for just enough natural light to stream in. I love that. I just wish I wouldn't read through books so fast. I drink up a novel like a thirsty man chugs a glass of ice water. Before I am prepared, the book is over. I need to take a trip to Half priced Books sometime soon. I have been thinking about getting a Kindle, I like the idea of the accessibility for obtaining new books. You hear about a book that you would like to read, and in minutes, with the convenience of staying at home, there it is. But there is just something special about books, the smell, the feel. I don't know if I would want to give that up.

I have been trying to get an appointment with a counselor. I can't even seem to do that. I have called several, and I have received no phone calls back. I just leave messages. When I called one back again, she said she didn't take my insurance. I was a bit put off by her dismissal in her voice. Its a bit disappointing, and one would think that in their profession, some delicate people are reaching out for help. Um, is it good to not call back and have that person face more disappointment? I'm just saying. It takes a lot for me to get the nerve to call, and then when nothing seems to be working out, it makes me want to just give it up. I looked online today and came across another woman who looked nice. Yes, I just want someone who looks pleasant, she reminded me of Paula Dean, so it felt right. I called her and left a message.

Josh started his new job today, and I can't stop from feeling nervous for him. I just want him to be happy, and have everything work out.
I feel so tired today. I took a shower at least, that is good. And with no where to go, even better, yay for me.

Every time I drop Tommy off at school, he tears up and tries not to cry. When I ask him why, he says that he will miss me. I tell him I love him and will miss him too, but he will have such a wonderful time at school, he will have so much fun. And he does. When I pick him up, he is happy and in a good mood. I thank God for that little boy everyday. He is such bright spot for me, and I am so lucky to have him. Even when he annoys me beyond understanding, repeats the same question 30 times, and doesn't listen to what I say. I still adore him. I just love to stare at him, and squeeze him, hug him, read to him, tickle him.

Lately I keep wondering what Riley would have been like. I can picture him a little older, more awareness in his eyes. I wonder what his personality would have been like. I am sad that Tommy doesn't have a little brother anymore. Tommy was such a sweetheart with Riley.

Well, I found a couple of other books I can read, until I make a trip to the bookstore. That should last for a few hours. Back to my escape.

I can do it.

I am so glad that we went out to our friends house today. I laughed so hard, my sides ached and it hurt to keep smiling. We had a good time, and it was really nice to get out of the house for something really fun. Today all I wanted to do was stay in bed. I was so tired and heavy feeling. I took one Xanax today, and felt so drugged I walked back to check to make sure I didn't take the entire bottle.

Just sad today, a bad day. Josh called me "emotionally unstable". Not sure if that is a proper description, but he might be right. I just feel off still. Even as I type I continue to hit the wrong keys, I type the wrong words, and have to re-read to make sure I make sense.

Yesterday, I went to visit a friend of ours. They have a baby about two months younger then Riley. It was nice to get out of the house, and they also have a son Tommy's age. I felt it was going to be difficult being around another baby, and it was. I did it, I held him. He was fussy in the chair, and I went to pick him up. I felt proud of myself that I could do it with out freaking out. I think it was easier because he looks so different then Riley to me. As I picked him up, I thought, I can do it. I can do it. It still hurt, I felt like I held back a gallon of tears, and tried not to cry. It was like hands on therapy. I talked about Riley as we talked about our kids. It was the first time I have spoken much about Riley. I miss him so. I look at pictures now and he seems different to me. I wish I would have cherished him more, held him more, stared at him more.

Today while lying in bed, I kept thinking, why, why, why? Did I not love him enough? Why this child? I would listen to him scream for a hundred hours straight to have him back with me.
When my friend was nursing her baby, I saw her baby look up into her eyes after he was done. I miss that look. I miss it so bad, my soul hurts. The bonding look, the deep connection to your child. Your baby falling asleep on your chest, the rise and fall of their chest, their angelic face deep in sleep. Riley was just starting to move his head to sounds, and I remember walking back into the bedroom when I had laid him down on the bed and he turned his head at the sound of my voice. And then he would smile.

I see people going about their lives, strangers, and I want to scream. I want to run up to them and yell in their face about the pain I am in. I don't know why I have these feelings. I don't feel like I will ever get over this. Grief is an evolution, of this I am aware. I am so sick of feeling this way, but I can't seem to move past it.

I need to fill my days with more fun times, like today. And remember that I can laugh, I can do it.

Help Wanted

I want to be strong, I want to be normal and return to the normal daily life. I know that we have a new normal to adjust to, and I just don't want to. The last two days, I feel like I backslid into weakness. It feels like the numbness is wearing off and reality is setting in. Yesterday I did not want to do anything. I wanted to crawl back into bed and stay there forever. Tommy, however does not seem to share the same feelings as I do, and pulls me out of bed when I feel this way. Literally, he grabs my leg and pulls.

Yesterday however, Tommy didn't succeed. Yesterday I cried. I sobbed. I let out feelings bottled up inside. I can't say that I felt better, but I felt less like a coke bottle that had been shaken up. Yesterday, someone came and slowly released a little pressure from that bottle. I had a horrible headache and laid down. Tommy tried to rouse me, but it didn't work. I then had a little boy snuggled up under my arm, staring me right in the face, eye to eye. We fell asleep, and it was a sweet sleep.

I just feel like I should be strong enough for this, and sometimes I am. But sometimes I feel like this weight will end me, crush me. I am reading a nice book on grief, and one of the stories said that you have to let your body grieve. I feel I am not. I want to cry but don't. I miss Riley so much, the pressure seems to much to live with. I was expected to return to work next week, but I don't think I will be able. I want to return to normal life, but I don't want to return to normal life. My baby died and my heart is broken. I feel like returning to normal life is not right. I understand enough that the journey we face ahead is a long and challenging one. With difficult high hills and low valleys. As time moves on, I know that the road on the journey will smooth, and be easier to navigate. But right now, all I see is a large, looming mountain with treacherous, stiff peaks, and dangerous paths. And I don't want to start climbing.

I feel like the initial shock and emotional separation is leaving me, and leaving me open and raw. I contacted two counselors, and one has called back to schedule an appointment. I feel better about this, but I have never liked or understood counseling. I am not one to talk about how I feel to a random person. But I know that this is a tool for my journey, and if I need a cane to help me walk, I must take it.

I like having things to look forward to. My cousin is coming down in a couple weeks and I can't wait to see her. We were invited to a party to watch the UT game tomorrow and I can't wait. It's a nice change to the sadness, a time to not be at home enveloped in grief. I didn't write yesterday because I didn't want to. I think of this as a personal journal for my thoughts and feelings, but sometimes I think, "will the people that read this eventually get sick and tired of me always being sad and depressed?" I don't know. Maybe someday another mother who is going through what I am going through will read this and find some solace with the fact she is not alone.

I miss my humor. I love my husband. Even though he is a jerk and deleted my recording of Project Runway. Sometimes I seem to mess up the DVR, it does not give him the right to take away my recording of one of my favorite shows. Punk. Sorrrryyy.

So anyone out there who reads this, I ask of you, please continue to pray. Pray for me, my husband, my Tommy, my family. It was those thoughts and prayers that saved us and pushed us through the first few weeks. Autopilot must be released. Now comes the hard part. And we still need help.

Tiny Angels

Tiny Angel

Tiny Angel rest your wings

sit with me for awhile.

How I long to hold your hand

and see your tender smile.

Tiny Angel, look at me,

I want this image clear...

That I will forget your precious face

is my biggest fear.

Tiny Angel can you tell me,

why have you gone away?

You weren't here for very long,

why is it that you couldn't stay?

Tiny Angel shook his head,

"These things I do not know...

But I do know that you love me,

and that I love you so".

How sweet the sound

Today after I dropped off Tommy at school I was driving and put in a CD that had some of the music from Riley's memorial on it. I really do like the song, but it brought me right back to how I was feeling that day. There is a CD with orchestra music that is also in the car, and I can't listen to that without getting upset. It was the music I always played for Riley in the car when he would start to cry.

I just remember the day feeling so surreal. Who can ever imagine having to attend their children's funeral? I still can't fully fathom everything that happened, and little moments during the day will still overwhelm me with grief. I just feel like I should have been there, I should have stopped this from happening some how and that kills me.

The day of the funeral, I feel I only made it through by the grace of God. In my time of desperate need, a good friend from high school was there for me. Her support and prayers I know helped me function and keep looking up. As we walked out of the room in the back into the sanctuary, I remember thinking, "this isn't happening". Holding my husband's hand, we took our seats to say our goodbyes to our beloved son. I listened to the words of the pastor, reading off the family names. Then hearing my parents names, both passed away. That wrenched my heart.

I remember being so proud of my dear husband to be able to speak in front of the crowd the words from his heart. I silently urged him on, praying for Josh to have the strength and focus to do as he wanted to do.

Watching the slide show was like slow pinpricks deep into my heart. I loved those pictures, but to see them again was so hard. My baby is gone. I put the slide show together, and I was proud of myself for being able to accomplish that.
The remainder of the service went on like a slow blur. I held on to Josh, and was so thankful for my aunt being by my other side.

Before I knew it, it was over. The pastor walked down to shake our hands, and I was confused. Josh held my hand as we were led out into the front vestibule. I could hear Elvis singing Amazing Grace. I felt dead inside. I felt so light headed, I thought I was going to faint. I remember looking across the room and seeing a couch. My entire goal was to make it to the couch and sit down. But I never made it there. I was not prepared for what was going to happen next. Everything I was avoiding during the week culminated into an onslaught for that next hour. No one told me that we would be lined up for people to address us on their way out. I kept thinking it was like our wedding. But on the EXTREME opposite end of the scale. No happy hugs or well wishes. Instead countless sorrowful hugs and "I'm so sorry for you" a hundred times.
Not that I am not thankful for every one's support, I was just not prepared for this.

As the line formed and people continued on, I think at one point I said, "Next..." to someone I didn't know. Not very tasteful, I know, but I thought it was slightly humorous.
I was very overwhelmed with all the love and support, and my emotions let loose on a few people. I felt so drained, empty. This milestone now passed, what next?

I still feel that way. The days are zooming by, and I don't know what to do next.

Driven Mad and Crazy

So today I displayed another example of why I am still not normal. No comments from the peanut gallery needed.

What is normal? How long until I am normal again? I suppose after this event in our lives, we will have a new normal to define and create. And learn to live with. That's how grief works to me. I never seem to get over it, or move on from it. I just learn to get used to it. You learn to get used to your new reality, as soon as you can accept that your new reality even happened.

Along with everything else, Josh's car started having issues and was put into the shop right before Riley died. The warranty people are not going to cover it, and at this moment we do not know what we are going to do. The Jeep needs a new engine and it is going to cost a tremendous amount of money to fix. Sigh. I'm not trying to lead into another pity party, but it just really seems unfair. We have been showered with so much love and support these last couple of weeks, and for that I am very thankful. I just wish that we didn't have this problem to deal with as well.
I have had so much anxiety over this, but I have to trust that everything will work out alright.

In a desperate attempt, I purchased a scratch off ticket, hoping that I would win just enough to cover the cost of the repairs. That as I waved my hand over the glass case holding the tickets I would be led to the winning ticket. As much as I would love to report that was the case, nope. But, really? Do things ever work out like that? Josh said God doesn't play the lotto. It did feel a little pathetic to hope that my method would work.

I just don't feel right, just not normal. As mentioned above, my experience of un-normalcy. While we were running an errand today, we had an issue at one place. It was such a stupid issue, a price discrepancy. But I felt myself getting so mad that it took me by surprise. As I could feel my face redden, I knew that this was not an appropriate response to such a trivial thing. I could feel Josh awkwardly trying to dissuade the situation, and reel me back in. I was waiting for him to call me Janet, but instead he just calmly stated, "hmmm, I don't think that you are quite ready to return to work yet". He said that he felt I would "bludgeon someone with a 2X4" if they crossed me the wrong way. Me? Nooooo. Well? Hmmmm.

I feel tired, sad, frustrated, lonely at times, and empty. I feel like I have a missing puzzle piece that I just can't find. An itch I can't scratch. A craving I can't satisfy. If any of that makes sense. I feel lost with no purpose. I still feel like a failure as a parent.

And all of this drives me crazy.

Oh it hurts...

So today was a good day.

Josh and I started the day by dropping Tommy off at preschool. It was a funny conversation with the teacher, as Tommy had a rough weekend. After the fall at school Friday, Tommy then got a busted lip at a birthday party on Saturday from falling. Then on Sunday he learned a tough lesson...Don't get in a little dog's face, or you will get bit. So he was bit. So when we dropped him off, he looked a little worse for wear. And he was in SUPER grouch mode all weekend from a cold or allergies, and decided he no longer felt like taking medicine. It was very tiring.

I feel wrong getting mad at Tommy right now, like it breaks a rule or something. Not that we aren't still disciplining him, we may have been a wee bit more lenient lately, but we have some rules. I mean being mad or annoyed at him. It seems wrong, like he is the only child we have left, so how can I be annoyed with him? Sighhhhhhh

After dropping Tommy off, we went for a couples massage. It was a cheap price, and we got to have a nice morning together, holding hands across the massage room. Just kidding we didn't hold hands. We did hurt together, for as the day went on, the pain from the knots being rubbed in our tense muscles seemed to get worse and worse. Hopefully tomorrow will be better. We just move sorely right now, and say "ouch" every now and then.

We then ran a few errands, ate lunch, I purchased some beads for another jewelry project. And the beads were on sale, joy! And such beautiful weather today too!

While on the back porch, I got a text from a friend I hadn't talked to in a while. She was asking something about my work. I realized that she didn't know. And I didn't know how to tell her.
I felt a panic attack coming on, and took some Xanax. I really wanted to talk to her to see how she was doing, but I didn't want to tell her.

I called, we talked. She asked how I was. I said not good. I realized that in the past two weeks since Riley died, I had not broken the news to anyone. I have not had to say the words out loud. As we talked, I felt so sad, nervous, scared, and confused. What do you say? How should you say it? How do the words come out of your mouth? How and why?

So I said it, my baby boy Riley died. She was shocked, said she didn't know what to say. That's okay, I was used to hearing that. I was not as emotional as I thought I would have been, considering this milestone. But it hurt. It hurt to share this information, and as a fellow mother, I know she hurt hearing this information. Right now, nothing takes the pain away, I still miss him every moment.

But today, all considering, was a good day. Except Josh and I hurt, in more ways then one.

Sticky and Sucky

Sometimes I still can't believe this is real. How is this is my life. I am still hoping like crazy this is an awful nightmare, just dragging on forever.

I miss my little guy. Riley was supposed to be MY kiddo. Josh has Tommy, I had Riley. Josh and Tommy are so similar. Tommy came out of the womb with a tan, skin tone like Josh. He also entered the world very lazily, on his own terms, slowly being coaxed out. Sound like anyone we know? Tommy has an inherent competency with anything technological. I know this generation is born with technology, but he was attracted to it at an early age, and has shown a high aptitude for electronics. Just like Josh. A freight train could pass through the bedroom and neither of them would even startle. Tommy looks like Josh, acts like him, and I swear the other day, he turned to me and Josh's words and tone came out of his mouth. I know I birthed the kid, but I am lost in there.

Riley was supposed to be mine. He came out pasty white, quick and in a hurry. Three pushes and there he was. No coaxing needed, he was ready. He looked more like me. He was such a light sleeper, a light breeze would wake him. Just like me. He was crankier, fussier and ate all the time. No comment needed on those. I just knew he was going to love to read, love to learn, love to help others, and just be my kid.

What saddens me more is the lost future. I will never see him crawl, walk, or run. We will never celebrate birthdays, holidays, or achievements. There will be no "Baby's First Christmas" stocking hung on the mantle. I was at a birthday party for one of our friends little boy, and I couldn't help but think, "I will never be able to have a party for Riley".
UGGHH!!!! I just want to scream. It's not fair and it sucks.

I just feel so sad. I wish sadness was like water, and I could just shake it off and wring it out. But this sadness is more like sticky molasses. Sweet memories. Hard to wipe off.

I just want to hold him again.

Let's get ready!

I have two good friends that are pregnant right now, and I can't wait. I put my grief aside and I am so excited and anxious for them, one a new addition and one a new adventure. I can't wait for those wonderful women to have the next great experience in their lives. I just have to get ready.

At this moment in time, if I were handed a baby this second, I don't know what I would do, if I would be able to hold the baby. Right now, I feel as if I held a baby, my feelings would tornado inside, spinning everything into a mess. I don't know if I would scream to Josh, "Hurry, get the car!", or if the comparison to my lost love would be too strong to endure. Since Riley died, I have touched a baby. But I did not offer or want to hold him.

I reallllly need to get into counseling. I wish I had a secretary, someone to politely ask to make and keep my appointments and possibly retrieve me a few mugs of coffee. That is a great idea.

Last night I was full on d-e-p-r-e-s-s-e-d. I couldn't shake it. It is the most frustrating feeling to want to be lively, but there is a heavy veil over you, preventing you from doing anything but slug along. I thought going over to hang out a my brother's house would lift me out of the funk. It didn't. And to make matters worse (for me mentally), Tommy fell at Preschool and hit his head. He was then groggy, grumpy, and acting sensitive to light. What do you think goes on inside the mother of a child who is injured when she just lost a child? Ohhhh, hysterics. But I think I kept that bottled up pretty good. (Thank you Xanax. Hey, I ain't got no shame).
God did get an onslaught of prayers, bargains, and yelling from me though.

Today I feel better. I slept with Tommy last night, and woke up all night to check to make sure he was okay. Ironically, I feel more well rested. I love sleeping nestled with my little guy, smelling his hair. Wrapping my arm around him and kissing his soft smooth cheek, holding his little hand in mine.
Someday his cheek will have stubble, and his hand will be bigger then mine. And I will have to let him go. But I don't have to worry about that right now. Right now he still wants to cuddle with his mama, and let me kiss all over his face.
I love sleeping nestled with my little guy....until I get pushed out of bed. By strong tiny feet. Kneeling on the ground next to the bed, I look up at my boys. They have the same features, Tommy is Josh incarnate. I feel bursting with love for them.

Maybe that's the secret for having a better day. Wake up on the right side of the bed.

A new kind of tired

I feel so tired all day. I go to sleep feeling exhausted, and wake up feeling tired. It just seems no matter how many stimulating things I consume, I never seem to feel alert or fresh. This is a new tired. I have birthed two children, and have had countless sleepless nights, but I don't remember being this tired all the time.

I had a doctors appointment today was was prescribed anti-depressants. I still don't know how I feel about that, and I haven't yet filled the prescription. I am perplexed by antidepressants and how they work. I'm sure I can read numerous medical documents explaining the process, but it still seems odd to me.

I feel weak, both mentally and physically. I just want to spend all day lying in bed. I miss Riley so much. I have been told that grief is exhausting. I am so tired.

Thank God for a Giving Heart

I thought a lot about my parents today. I often picture them holding Riley now. That gives me comfort and pain. Comfort to know that Riley is not alone in heaven, but pain that he is not with me. I have an image in my mind of Jesus handing Riley over to my Mom. As he returned to heaven, what were his feelings? Was he surprised? What do we believe?

My parents taught me so many things, one precious lesson they taught me was to give. Give to others, if when you do not think you have anything to give. I know we were low income when I grew up, but I don't remember my childhood being centered around that. I remember my Mom making food for someone who did not have a warm dinner to eat. I remember my father having me pull his wallet out to give a friend the last of his money. I miss them. I miss their words. I miss cuddling up next to my Dad when I was sad, sick, or just needing love. I miss talking with my silly mother, who I know would crawl up a mountain of glass on her hands and knees for me, as she would tell me. It is because of them, and the example they set for me, that I am the person I am. I always feel pulled in my heart to give. Give a hug, a smile, a dollar, a listening ear. I miss my parents, immensely.

As I was talking with Josh the other night, I stated that I was 0-3, as death was concerned. Being who he is, he always flips to the other side of my argument, playing devil's advocate. And I always ask him who's side he is on. He said I wasn't 0-3, I was 2-3, or 15-3, or 350-3. Look at it from the better end of the deal. Punk.

My parents also taught me Faith. With my parents, I saw them in many different stages of faith, some good, some bad. But that showed me life is tough, life can suck. But it's what we do during those times that can support or crush us.

This is why I know there is a God. I told this to a friend today. Sometimes when you need to hear the right words, they come. In different ways, some when you think it is all random coincidences.

I asked my Sister-in-law to chose a scripture for the handouts for Riley's memorial. I asked her to select something about peace. I gave her no other direction, no where to look or section to search from. Josh and I dealt with much emotion about what Riley went through during his last moments. What did he feel, was he scared, angry, or sad? I can say that it almost tormented me as a mother, for my greatest fear is that my children will ever feel true pain or fear. My sister in law emailed me a draft of the handout, and at the bottom was the scripture chosen.

"When you lie down, you will not be afraid; when you lie down, your sleep will be sweet." (Prov 3:24)

Reading this, I felt it was a message, a reassurance, a peaceful gift to release us of our worries. God does answer prayers. God may not give answers to questions, but sometimes the answers or reasons will not release us from our grief. My husband and I miss our beautiful baby every minute, and we are raw with hurt, but we can come together and be thankful for the time we did have with Riley, however brief. We are so lucky to have Tommy, to brighten this dark time in our life. I am still angry, sad, broken, and depressed. But, as I told my friend, I can shake my fist at God and know he understands.

I have Faith. I was given that.

Grumpy Gus

Today I felt like I personified the textbook example for depressed. I just feel grumpy and depressed. Look in the dictionary, there would be my picture.

I feel my control over my temperament slipping. Oops. There it goes. The only people I don't feel this towards is Josh and Tommy. Tonight I went to the store and had an unsuccessful shopping trip. I went for this, it was sold out. I went for that, it was sold out. Don't do me wrong HEB, I love this store. By the time I reached the checkout, I was in full on grump-mode. I loaded up my selections and waited. It was at this time that the cashiers were switching out for a lunch break. I stared, more like glared, as the two hormonal teenagers flirted over the drawer exchange, "tee hee, oh stop that!" Blechhh. After 5 minutes (more like 15 seconds) went by, I finally pierced the annoying adolescent banter with, "Enough, come on already!". That earned me two rude looks from the indignant punks.

This is why I know I am not ready to return to work soon. The first customer with a trivial issue, or an employee with a petty concern would not get my best dignified response.

I always joke (to myself) that I have a little man running my brain. He works all day, retrieving files from my filing cabinets in my memory, presses the correct controls to keep me in line, and helps steer me in the right direction. Sometimes I feel like he is on a coffee break, and I feel my self slipping and about to say something nasty. Just when he is savoring his sip of coffee, he realizes what is about to happen, drops the mug and dives on the EDIT button.

Right now, that little man pressed the auto-pilot button, climbed into bed and pulled the covers over his head. Boooo.

That is all. I'm tired.

Cloudy with a chance of Sunshine

Yesterday was a better day.
I had a friend help come over and help clean and organize a few rooms, and clean up the fridges with all of the food.

It has been hard to look at the empty spot where Riley's crib was, and now we moved some things around to fill the gap. Funny how things work out. I am so glad that Riley was still sleeping in our room. If we had a nursery set up, I think that would be much harder to deal with an entire room devoted to your child.

After my nice visit from my cleaning buddy, the day felt better. I felt more organized and assured. Then I was able to spend some wonderful quality time with my boo. Dinner and a movie was really nice, and it was refreshing to have something fun to look forward to.

Sleep was hard. How is it that you can be so tired, almost falling asleep on the way to the bed, but as soon as you go down. No sleep. Nothing. WHY!!! I was so exhausted, but felt I barely slept a wink. Then add my Tommy monkey to the mix when he joined us in the middle of the night, and I really couldn't sleep.

Today has been hard. I feel like I need a good cry, a release. I really hate driving. I wish at some point in my life I could reach a status that I had a personal driver. And I don't need a limo or even a town car. Drive me in my old Neon for all I care. "Saddle up Jeeves, Mama needs a Slurpee".

I went to the Home Depot today to get some shelf brackets, and felt like crying all the way. No, not because I was going to Home Depot, I just don't know why. I feel like I lose focus all the time. I don't remember things. This is so hard for me as I usually have a razor sharp mind and memory. I got in the car and looked frantically for my keys in my purse, not realizing the car was already started with the keys hanging from the ignition. You would have thought the air conditioning blasting my face would have been a dead give-away. I drive and forget where I am going, or don't pay attention, and three missed exits later I finally get back to reality.
See, I need a driver.

It is such a weird thing to feel like the days zoom by, but the minutes drag on. I remember feeling this way with each of my parents. Days turned to weeks, turned to months, then to years. Time is a funny thing. It can heal, and it can hurt. I don't want time to pass quickly. It scares me to forget even the smallest detail about Riley. When my parents died, I remember it being like a slow fade. Fade to black. When fresh, you can hear their voice in your head, closing your eyes and feeling as if they are in the room. Time passes and you barely remember things that they used to say to you. The guilt that comes with that is hard. You feel like if you were a better person, you wouldn't let yourself forget.

I feel like a person with a cloud following them around. Like the cartoon where no one else is getting rained on, but you.

Guess I need to start using an umbrella.

Love you K.

What a faker.

I feel like I act happy. Inside I feel so broken hearted. I look at pictures of Riley and I feel a dangerous bubbling under the surface. When my Mom died, I could not and would not look at pictures of her, as to not allow myself to feel the grief.

It is different with my son. I hurt. So bad. I look at pictures and I weep. On the inside. I feel like I fake my demeanor right now. Fake it 'till you make it. But I feel myself starting to breakdown. I am exhausted from constantly acting as if I am okay.

I am not trying to keep my feelings inside, and I know that I have a great support system. If I have realized anything from this past week, it is that Josh and I have wonderful friends and family. So many people would drop anything and help us. I just feel that I can't. I don't want to. I need to line up counseling, of this I am aware.

I miss him so much. I miss feeling needed. I miss nursing him. I miss his big toe on his right foot that he always seemed to tense up. I miss the nasty rotten milk smell in his neck folds. I miss coming home from work and feeling like I was the only person that he wanted. I miss rubbing his head and watching his eyelids close in sleep. I miss everything.

Josh and I smell his baby clothes and pass them back and forth like crack. It's our personal crack.

It hurts so bad.

I adore my Tommy, and without him I would feel lost. He gives me a reason to keep going. That and Pluckers Fried Pickles. Josh is out getting me some tonight. I love my husband.

You've had a bad day and felt like a sandwich.

Inside my mind I had a bad day, a mental pity party that was like a broken record playing over and over.

I woke up and wanted to cry and cry and cry. I went into the bathroom and barely felt the energy to lift my arms. I had to get ready, but I didn't want to. I wanted to crawl back in bed and pull the covers over my head, and pretend to have a stomach ache. Although I know I can talk to Josh about how I feel, I didn't feel like sharing my depressed thoughts. I felt like an angry spider monkey jumped on my back and latched on tight, whispering mean, cranky and breaking things into my ear. Go choke on a banana you evil monkey.

But I got dressed. Didn't shower, but at least I put on clean clothes.

Josh and I went to church together for the first time in a long time. It was nice. It was difficult.
During the service I felt angry. Why did God take my baby? I would never wish this upon any one, but I almost felt like I would to get my baby back. But those feelings do no good. I cannot trade or barter my baby back. Anger is a wasted emotion. But that doesn't stop me from being angry now does it?

Within my fog of a pity party I realized I have lost both of my parents and my child. I have death on both sides of me, top and bottom. I am a Georgie grief sandwich. Again...pity. party.

A bright spot was a wonderful lunch with wonderful people. A happy moment.
Yesterday I kissed a babies head, and tickled a foot. Today I did it again. It felt nice.

I did get angry with a certain person who shall remain nameless. It angered me to the point of yelling (not at the person but at my poor husband about it), it was the first time that I felt my grip on my emotions slip.

People are who they are, and I am in no position to judge. But God help me I can't stress enough to everyone to love and cherish their children. Sometimes you don't feel like it. Put that aside and show your love. No one is perfect, no parent is perfect. Love is perfect.

The end.

Oh What a Feeling

Today was the memorial for Riley. I can't share just yet how I felt about that.

I can't seem to get a grip on how I feel.

Georgie feels: sad+exhausted+melancholy+happy+lonely. Sadexmelonhaponly.

After everyone departed today, I left to run some errands. Some necessary, some not. It was the first time I was alone in the past seven days. Right before I left, I changed my earrings. I looked into the mirror and felt pretty. It felt odd to feel that way.

My first errand was to find a dry cleaner that could have Josh's suit jacket ready by Monday morning. FIVE dry cleaners later, I finished that feat. But on the positive side, it was near a Which Wich. I love those sandwiches. So I ate my sandwich by myself. And I felt happy.

My next errand was to go to the mall to exchange something, and get a thank you present for someone that did an amazing thing for us this week. As I walked through the mall, it was a crowded Saturday, full of teeny-boppers and old people. Navigating the busy mall, I visited my new favorite store. I selected my gift and walked out. I felt lonely. Such an odd feeling to have while surrounded by so many people.

Time feels like it moves so slow. I feel like I lose focus and just zone off into space. I stared at a Hello Kitty top in the children's section for what was probably 20 minutes. I got asked if I needed help by three different sales people. Perhaps they thought I was pondering just how to fit this size 5T shirt into my XL wardrobe. Perhaps they were wondering just when to call security. Ha.

I then went to my FAVORITE store. A craft store. Ahhhhh.....Perusing the goods, I touched everything, like I was trying to savor every moment. I missed my family that just left. I could just hear my aunt's voice in my head. I felt melancholy. Like I needed some Enya theme music to follow me around.

Sigh, then I went to Kohl's to get Josh a shirt. I usually love any Kohl's time, but it made me yearn to be with my husband so bad, I could hardly stand to not jump on the closest Josh look-a-like. I feel such a pull to my husband that I just want to share every breath with him. He is going to have to shake me off his leg like a dog in heat.

Driving home, I still had to stop by the store....and then get gas...which is a task I detest. Lugging the bags to the car I felt exhausted. And sad.

I miss my baby.

Because I have to.

My son died.

I just want to sleep until the world ends.
I just want to cry until my body runs dry.
I just want to scream until my vocal cords no longer work.
I just want to curse so harsh that the devil would cringe.

But I do not. I feel I have to be strong. Because I have to.
I feel guilty putting earrings on. I feel like I should wear a black shroud and not be seen in any other state but hysterical crying. But I can't do that. I have to be strong. I feel peaceful, calm and supported. I can't explain it. I am an emotional person, and to have this sense of calm is well....calming.

I have to be strong. Because I have to.

I select my clothes in the morning. Do I wear ugly unwashed sweat pants to show that I don't care how I look? So I will look as I barely can move forward? No, today I choose a gold and silver sequin top. It sparkles so much.

I will say that I haven't felt the energy to shower, sorry to all of the people around me. I squirted some perfume in particular places, so that should help.

I want to steal all the babies I see and just put them all in a room to hear the screaming, giggling, and babbling. I want to love on every pregnant woman I see to let them know just how special the experience they have coming up is. I want everyone to cherish their children.

I can't say that I regret anything. Regret is for losers. La-who-sa-hers.

My world will forever be different, but I know that I will move forward. I adore my Tommy and my Josh. I have to be strong. Because I have to dammit.

Good vs. Evil

***I wrote this a few weeks ago and was still working on this. It just makes me laugh. I love how Tommy says poo poo. It's more like "pew pew". Who doesn't love a good pew pew. ***



Okay, so nothing that our children do is really evil, unless you are Mrs. Bundy or Mrs. Hitler, but sometimes things happen that are good, and not so good. As I have been going back to work, I have taken some time during my long commute to reflect on my children and their behavior, both good and bad.


So here we go...




Bad: Getting pooped on explosively, just after dressing in fresh clothes, and you swear you see your baby giggle to himself.

Good: Celebrating the emerging of the first poop after an extended period of your child's constipation. No matter how long the period, the first turd sprung loose is cheered and ceremoniously paraded around the house like an Indian Price on his birthday. We have had issues with Tommy's bowl movements for some time (anyone with advice for coaxing poo out of a stubborn toddler is welcome to share), and we had to administer an enema. After this event, anyone who approached Tommy within 5 feet was warned, "Don't stick anything up my butt!!" We recently took Tommy to his doctor, and after the initial greet, Tommy qualified him with the understanding that nothing is to go near his butt hole. So after this affair, Tommy still has a phobia of things going near is butt.

More to come...

Hi!! What was your name again?

Recently I attended my TEN YEAR High School Reunion. Whew! Ten years have gone by since walking that stage and earning that diploma. While in attendance, there are several things that I learned, some good things and some, eh, no so good.

Despite knowing about the event several months in advance, I chose not to prepare myself physically until the day of. I went to the gym in the morning, and in a desperate and futile attempt, tried to lose 50 pounds. No, it cannot be done. So I gave up and then ate a box of Depression Donuts! Special brand for the emotionally unstable, comes with an extra dose of insecurity and shame baked right in. Tasty.

So after my unsuccessful attempt at weight loss, I tried the next best thing. This is where I learned my first lesson. Never wear two pieces of fat hiding, gut sucking control top undergarments at the same time. I tried to wear a control top camisole and control top panties. It was like a war of my midsection, with a giant tummy roll shifting up and down my midsection, not knowing what to do, and certainly not where to go. It was like two squeegees pushing a line of soap up and down. Up and down. And Lord help me if I sat down, both pieces slid and rolled, obviously not wanting to fulfill their taught responsibility. Needless to say, it didn't work. Lesson #1.

After dressing and making our way to the reunion, I then learned the next lesson. I should have ate something prior to drinking 17 bottles of vodka. This coupled with the fact that I had not consumed a large amount of alcohol, any alcohol, in almost a year due to pregnancy and birth led to a very intoxicated reunion attendee. I don't quite remember the entire evening, but I do remember that all the hard work I did prying myself into above mentioned undergarments was negated when I proceeded to inform anyone that I spoke with about the giant feat of fabric engineering going on under my dress. Why did I chose to tell people? Because the booze made me do it. The same reason I seemed to tell everyone that I stalk them on Facebook. (Lesson #3 by the way, keep that little fact to yourself and you will avoid a lot of awkward conversation breaks and the shifty-eyed, "is she really the best option I have to talk to right now" look).

So then, as the night gurgled on, I only have bits and pieces of anything that took place, but I am told that I had a great time. I remember telling someone who is now a lawyer that I know all about what they go through because I have seen every episode of Law and Order:SVU. Right there with you, *chest thump. I believe I might have repeatedly poked a popular radio DJ in the chest, demanding to know why he chose my best friend over me in the 8th grade. Why? Again...lots 'o booze = drunky Georgie = non functioning EDIT/SILENT button.

Looking back, a tiny margin of me wishes I hadn't been so inebriated, and that I might have had more coherent and memorable conversations. But, where's the fun in that?
I would care more about any inappropriate behavior I might have displayed, but seriously, the next time I will see 99% of these people will be in another 10 years. If I made a fool of myself, hey, at least I gave someone a laugh, or a pathetic head shake.

All in all, I had a great time (I think), spent some wonderful quality time with my BFF, saw many old friends, and at the very least there was an open bar that I obviously enjoyed. Cheers!