Dear Charlie

Dear Charlie,

Today was a rough one, wasn't it? Fits were thrown, toys were tossed, punishments were doled out. I saw the regret on your face at bedtime. I heard it in your voice when you told me your Sad for the day was getting in trouble. I know you think you disappointed me. I know you think that and it breaks my heart. Because the truth is, as frustrated as I was with you today, I get it. And I am not disappointed.

You have been through so much in your five short years. Surgeries and leg braces. Helmets and physical therapy. Hospital stays and too many ER visits to count. And just when things finally started to settle down in your world, we announced that you are getting a little sister. You were so excited to meet her! It was the sweetest thing to see. You helped fold her clothes and pick out her toys and happily told anyone that would listen that you were getting a sister and her name is Hannah and you were going to finally be a Big Brother

Then you watched that dream get ripped away. Stolen by two parents who were struggling so much with their own grief that it took us a week to even tell you what happened. You were there when we found out, you just didn't know what was going on. All you knew is the room went quiet until I screamed for them to get you out of there. All I wanted to do was hold you close, but I couldn't let you see my heart breaking in two. I will never forget the look on your face or the sound of your voice when Papa arrived to take you home. You cried and reached for me as he physically pulled you from the room. You knew something was wrong, but you didn't know what. All you knew is I was sending you away. All I knew is everything was different and scary and uncertain all of the sudden and I just wanted to scoop you up and hold you close. Could you feel that? Or did  you just feel pushed away? I'll always wonder about the damage that day may have done to you and I will always wish I handled it differently.

You got a mom back after a few days, but you didn't get your mom back did you? You got a zombie. A mom who wandered through the days in a daze, crying constantly and clinging to you. A mom who slept 20 hours a day for the next couple of months. A mom who was sad and lost and standing on unstable ground.

But you never lost faith in me.

Just when we pulled ourselves together again, we told you that you were getting a baby brother. You were so excited! But as time wore on, as we got closer to Teddy's arrival, I could see your fear too. You asked if he was coming home with us or going to Heaven with Hannah. You asked over and over to reassure yourself. You cried every time I went to the hospital because you think only bad things happen there. To you, it is a place of loss and not a place where life begins. You began to worry, it was written on your little face and I could hear it in your bedtime prayers.

But you still never lost faith in me. You knew, no matter what, I would come home.

Now Teddy is here and I am constantly amazed at what a kind and loving kid you are. You gave him half of your books and half of your stuffed animals. You call him Blue Eyes and ask to hold him and feed him. You tell him about his sister Hannah who lives in Heaven and watches over us all. You read him books and make sure he always has his paci and his lovey. The depths of your heart amaze me. I am so incredibly proud of the little person you are becoming. Your sweet, sensitive soul, so easily wounded but always so ready to give. I am so proud to be your Mom.

The One in Which I Call God an Asshat

I've been doing a lot of reflecting lately on the "Before" and the "After" and I've realized how different life is now than it was on Nov 1, 2014. When the 2nd came, I became a whole other person. I mean, in a lot of ways I'm still me, but at the same time I'm so different.

For starters I am a much more patient parent. Screaming in Target? No biggie, we just leave. Jumping up and down on the couch (drives me insane)? Just remind him to stop. Preschooler gets sassy? Calmly send him to his room to think about his behavior. Baby is up all night? Hey, we have a baby and we get to be up all night!

That's a positive. There are way more negatives.

I get short tempered with people who don't understand grief. Example, there was a post in a mom's group today about whether or not a mom should ask a new acquaintance if they have children. Every "Sure, why not?" response made my blood boil. Seriously? Even after several moms mentioned fertility struggles or deaths most mom's didn't think it was a big deal. But here were grieving women saying exactly why it was a big deal. I wanted to scream. I want to scream now just thinking about it.

I also have no patience with the "get over people." Those people that look at me with pity then turn around and say "Shouldn't she be over it now?" and "I don't think she's handling it right." To those people I say this. Losing a child is a level of grief you can never understand until it happens to you and so I truly hope you never understand. I would also like to say that you are acting like a dick. Who talks shit about someone who lost their child? Seriously, what is wrong with you? I cannot comprehend that level of idiocy.

Ahem, moving on...

Lost faith. This one is tough. It's hard because while I've never been overtly religious I have always been spiritual and had a strong sense of faith. So when that was shattered I didn't know where to turn. I had no one to blame then but God and myself, and I still have no one to blame but God and myself. Being constantly mad at myself is exhausting. Don't get me wrong, I am still mad at myself. But I channel the bulk of my anger at God. Who lets a baby die? Who the fuck thought that was a good idea. Not me! Must be God. Asshat. There is a great song by Jetty Rae called Mad at You and the opening lyrics describe it perfectly.

Dear God I'm mad at you
and I know it's a shame
for me to feel this way
but I'm all blue
and I've got no one to blame
but me and you

I believed like a child
all the while
trying to make you smile
you're the only one
smiling now
I can't remember how

So that's where God and I stand right now. Its not good.

Now that I've offended a ton of people, lets move on.

Innocence lost. I know that all those things that happen to "other people can happen close to home. They can happen at home. Every time I hear someone is pregnant I panic and starting thinking "Please oh please let this baby get here safely." There is no safe zone. Making it through the first trimester doesn't mean shit. Bad things happen at any time. There is no point where you are home free. Disaster can find you anywhere.

Jealously.  Whenever someone announces a pregnancy besides hoping for a healthy baby, I hope for a boy. There is a part of me that feels like if I can't have my daughter I don't want anyone else to have one either. It's not fair. And it's petty of me, I know this. But that jealous comes up and kicks me in the gut every time.

Tired. I am so tired. Carrying grief around is so exhausting. Some days I don't have the energy to be a functioning person. This means cancelled plans or not making them to begin with. I've noticed the tiredness fades as time moves forward, but there are still days where life is exhausting.

I had a couple of other points but I forgot to write them down and my memory ain't what it used to be. I'm sure they will come to me as soon as I hit publish. Maybe I'll write them down and do a part II to this blog. But I'll probably forget.

Remember I never asked to change. I liked who I was. Sure there was definitely room for improvement, but I knew what to expect from myself. Now I feel constantly surprised at my own feelings. That's unnerving and annoying. I don't like surprises, I miss my old life. I liked believing that good things happen to good people and that life was on some level, more or less fair. That's gone now and I'm left being a stranger in my own body.

*If you want to hear the rest of Mad at You, you can download on iTune or listen here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4dAFBpaUCPw