I Won't Let Go

Sometimes when I need it most of all...a song comes back around and just gets to me. This is one of those songs. It's the kind of song that I would want my loved ones to sing to me. Or that I would want to sing to those I love. It's a song that I want to send out to all of you on this Memorial Day as you remember your loved ones that are now gone. May you always know that I will be here for you. You will never walk this journey through grief alone. ((hugs))

I Won't Let Go
Rascal Flatts

It's like a storm
That cuts a path
It's breaks your will
It feels like that

You think you're lost
But you're not lost on your own
You're not alone

I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you've done all you can do
And you can't cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I won't let go

It hurts my heart
To see you cry
I know it's dark
This part of life
Oh, it finds us all
And we're too small
To stop the rain
Oh, but when it rains

I will stand by you
I will help you through

When you've done all you can do
And you can't cope
I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I won't let you fall

Don't be afraid to fall
I'm right here to catch you
I won't let you down
It won't get you down
You're gonna make it
Yeah, I know you can make it

'Cause I will stand by you
I will help you through
When you've done all you can do
And you can't cope
And I will dry your eyes
I will fight your fight
I will hold you tight
And I won't let go
Oh I'm gonna hold you
And I won't let go
Won't let you go
No I Won't

I'm "that" girl

Wow, it's been awhile since I've posted. And promises have been made of a giveaway. Those promises will be kept....but just not yet. Still working on what I want to do...

So, I have decided that I probably should change my profession. Being a special education teacher at the Early Childhood level is full of rewards, mostly that being the children and the families. I could come home everyday and post a "cute kid" story on Facebook if I had the time and energy. I also work with some amazing families who basically take you in as a member of their family within the first few years of working with their child. And finally, I do have some great co-workers. Co-workers who I personally call some of my best friends. But here's the kicker....I work in a school of all women. And even when I go out into the preschools/daycares to support my students, it's all women. Women who are either similar in age to me or are older. And what do women around my age or older have in common...well, most of them. They are buying homes. They are getting their masters. They are getting married. They are married. They have children. Or they are pregnant.

Hmm...where do I fit? Oh, yeah... I am "that" girl. "That girl" who when you are sitting in the lounge at lunch and you ask about how things are...you don't really know what to ask. You don't ask about my husband because you probably don't really notice the status of our relationship. You don't ask about my "house" or "yardwork" because I don't have any of that. You don't ask about my children...because unless you weren't working in the building a year ago, you know that I don't have a living child. And, of course, you wouldn't ask about a dead baby. You don't ask about going back to school because you know I probably can't afford it right now paying rent in Madison under one income. And since I haven't really pursued anything up until now, you probably don't think I'll ever do it. So, what do you ask? Hmmm....

I'm the girl that you may ask about what I did on the weekend. I'm the girl you ask about my mom or family. I'm the girl you ask general questions to....questions with little meaning. Not that my family means so little to me. It's just that at this point in my life...you wouldn't typically ask how my mom was. You would ask about my husband, about my family, about my career, about my future.

Now, let's go back to my profession. Working with women may seem like it has its benefits. Empathy, sincerity, people who care. And I do get all of those things. But I also get the feeling when I sit in the lounge of, "One of these things is not like the other. One of these things just doesn't belong." I don't belong to the club of women who are wives (well, not really). I don't belong to the club of mothers (well, kind of). The only club I belong to at school is the club of educators. And often....at times like in the lounge or retirement celebrations, that club of educators doesn't really hold the same meaning as the other two.

We, in the babyloss community, talk a lot about "the elephant in the room" feeling. That is definitely something I feel. Yes, it's partly because of my loss. And yes, it's partly because of my relationship status. But more than anything...it's mostly because this is my life. I am "that" girl. I am "the elephant in the room."

Who would have "thunk" it?!!

Today marks a big day in my life....a day that I truly never thought would come. A day that wouldn't have come had Kennedy not been a part of my life. It could be viewed as a joyous event...yet sad given the reason behind it. But it's still an anniversary no matter how you look at it. It's been a year. One year since I started this blog. 92 posts and 120 followers later....and I'm still here. I'm still writing. I'm still reading. I'm still commenting. I'm still grieving.

I never, ever would have thought in a million years that I would become a part of the blogging community. But then again, I never thought I would become a part of the baby loss community. When I sat down to write 365 days ago, I did not know what my intentions would be. All I knew is that I wanted to write. I wanted to share what I was feeling somewhere. I didn't know who would read or what comments would come out of it. But I knew it was something I had to do....just like support group or grief counseling was something I had to do. Since then, I have shared more here than I have shared with many that have been part of my "real life" for the past 29 years. This has been my sanctuary. My place to just pour my heart out and know it's okay. It's been my place to grieve for my little girl and to not be judged that it's time to "move on." I have been given affirmation of "no timeline," "no expectations," and "no judgment." I have been supported and loved. I am viewed as a mother.

My beautiful daughter, Kennedy, has been remembered. She has been thought of, prayed for, and celebrated. When her name is said or seen she is recognized as a human life. A little girl. A daughter. A child. I cannot begin to thank you enough for that. As I wrote to a fellow BLM a few days ago, just the thought of someone saying her name or thinking of her, means more to me than any gift or prize. My daughter is "realer" to me when I can share her with all of you.

I am amazed at what you all have given me. Without this blog, I wouldn't have been motivated to start my own Face2Face social group. Or be in the process of starting "A Walk to Remember" in Madison in October. I wouldn't have people who live "literally" all over the world who I would call my friends. Friends who I feel closer to than some of my "IRL" friends that I have had for years. It has been a year of growth. A year of progress. A year of change. And a year of hope. Thank you for your friendship, your tears, your words, and your hope. I am who I am today because of Kennedy. But I am also who I am today because of you.

I would really like to do a giveaway of some sort in honor of this day...but since it has kind of caught me off guard, I'm not ready to do so just yet. Please check back throughout this week as I gather my thoughts to think of an appropriate giveaway given the celebration. Sending much love and hugs to you all always....

Alissa

The grief I feel for me

Just a couple of hours ago, I was able to catch up on recent postings of other babyloss mommas, which led me back to a consistent emotion of mine. The feeling of loss of who I was. The grief I feel for me. The me that was before. The me that will never be again. I know I have written before in various posts about this topic, but it rings so true to me each time I think about it. I think this is where I am now. This is the "stage" in grief where I look at myself and hurt for me. I obviously hurt for the loss of my daughter. I miss her. I miss the life that she would have here on Earth with me. And most of what I feel for me is because I miss her so very much, but it's a different feeling. This just isn't pain and aching for her. This is pain and aching for my life. The life I wanted. The life that I thought I had. The me that I wish I was.

On Reid's momma's post, "A minor epiphany in yoga class," she writes:

"All the babyloss books talk about dealing with the loss of a child but where is the book that tells me how to deal with the losing myself?
Where are the condolence cards for the loss of self?"

And she's absolutely right. Where is the book about finding your way to who you are? And how about those cards? Why isn't there one that says, "I'm sorry for the loss of your baby and for what you will go through because of it. I'm sorry that it will change your life immeasurably and never go back to the way it was before." Or maybe I just need the one that says something similar to what a high school or college graduation card would say, "Good luck on this next step in your journey called life." That one pretty much sums up the way it feels. The unfortunate thing about that last card is that when you receive it after graduation, it's typically because you chose to advance or make that change your life. This is not the change I wanted. I didn't ask for this life. I didn't ask for what has happened.

I think it hurts more when I look back and think about the simplicity of what life was like over 2 years ago now. I didn't really have a clue how everything (or so it feels) would just fall apart. I mean, sure...there were problems, especially with my marriage, but I was naive to it all. I was naive to life in general. Now, I sit here, and miss that. I miss that I'm not the girl who wants to spend every waking moment (or so it felt) with family and friends. I miss that I don't rejoice over every baby announcement that my friends make. I miss that there are people in my life that I just have no interest in spending time with anymore. I miss that simple, basic everyday joys don't have that safe effect on me anymore. I miss that I just feel heavy a lot of the time. Sad. Scared. Confused. Hurt. I miss that I'm just not "her."


Not the best pic, but look at that girl....she's happy. She's even happy-go-lucky. Who would have thought that about 4 years later, I would feel so different. Yes, time has happened. Life has happened. And maybe there's a level of acceptance that I just haven't reached yet. A level of acceptance of who I am today, instead of the grief I feel for the person I was. I can't go back. I have to keep pushing on. Living this life. Finding out what else is store for me. My hope is to keep finding pieces of that girl in the picture. And putting those pieces back together. I know I can't completely be "her" again. The picture will look different. Distorted. Blurred. Too much has happened. And like I said, life has happened. But maybe there will be a time when I don't grieve for "her" so much. Maybe there will be a time that I'm just happy being the me I am today. Maybe....

'Cause maybe in the future, you're gonna come back
You're gonna come back around
Maybe in the future, you're gonna come back
You're gonna come back
Oh, the only way to really know is to really let it go
Maybe you're gonna come back
You're gonna come back
You're gonna come back to me

-"Maybe," Ingrid Michaelson

A bittersweet holiday

My heart aches today. It almost feels like it aches more than it has in a long time. And only people in this community would truly understand why my heart aches so much.

My heart aches because my baby is not here. And it aches because she isn't here to share tomorrow with me. Tomorrow is Mother's Day. An internationally shared holiday where mothers around the world are revered, loved and cherished. A day when those who hold a baby here on Earth are given the opportunity to glow with pride over their precious little ones.

Yet, those without a baby on Earth, are forgotten. They are asked about what their plans are for Sunday without even thinking about how difficult the day may be. They are asked what their plans are with their mothers, rather than thinking about what this day should be for them with babies of their own.

The entire month of May gears up for this day. Cheerful messages are sent to "other" mothers. Carefully prepared gifts are created all week long in schools by tedious little hands who love their mothers so. Various stores slogans change to "what you should get for mom." Hallmark creates thousands of "perfect" cards to say the "perfect" message of what your mother means to you. Even the post office prepares for this day by making appropriate packaging.

And every little bit of that hurts...and stings. And is a reminder of what I don't have and may never have. Mothers of babies only in Heaven do not receive those cheerful messages or cards with their babies handprints in them. They don't look at those slogans or cards without a wistful feeling in their heart.

All of it makes me miss my baby even more. I miss my Kennedy. I miss what my life would be with her in it. I miss what Mother's Day would be and should be for me as it should be for any mother. It shouldn't be a day of pain. It should be a day of celebration and joy. A day full of sunshine, rainbows and butterflies.

Instead this is what I feel....sadness, bitterness, and the great desire for the day just to be over. I know my sweet girl understands. She sees me sad. She doesn't want this for me. She wants us to be together. To share this day. She knows I love her. She knows I don't really need a day to be recognized as her mother. She just knows it hurts more because it's a reminder that she's not here with me. A day when I cannot truly be the mother to her that I would like to be. My little girl made me a mother. And I am eternally grateful to her for that title. Just wishing things were different. Wishing she was here...

Mother's Day

I thought of you and closed my eyes,
And prayed to God today.
I asked what makes a Mother,
And I know I heard Him say:
A mother has a baby,
This we know is true.
But, God, can you be a mother,
When your baby's not with you?
Yes, you can He replied,
With confidence in His voice.
I give many women babies,
When they leave is not their choice.
Some I send for a lifetime,
And others for a day.
And some I send to feel your womb,
But theres no need to stay.
I just don't understand this God,
I want my baby here.
He took a breath and cleared His throat,
And then I saw a tear.
I wish that I could show you,
What your child is doing today,
If you could see your child smile,
With other children who say:
We go to earth and learn our lessons,
Of love and life and fear.
My mommy loved me oh so much,
I got to come straight here.
I feel so lucky to have a mom,
Who had so much love for me.
I learned my lessons very quickly,
My mommy set me free.
I miss my mommy oh so much,
But I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep,
On her pillow's where I lay.
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek,
And whisper in her ear.
"Mommy don't be sad today, I'm your baby and I'm here."
So you see my dear sweet one,
Your children are Ok.
Your babies are here in My home,
They'll be at heavens gate for you.
So now you see what makes a mother.
It's the feeling in your heart.
It's the love you had so much of,
Right from the very start.
Though some on earth may not realize you are a mother,
until their time is done.
They'll be up here with Me one day,
And you'll know that you're the best one!
~Author Unknown