Just recently I attended a conference on Infant Mental Health for four days. On a side note, sweet girl, your mama finally found something she is truly interested in to pursue post undergrad and it really makes me happy. Plus, I have the support of many wonderful people (other than family) who are cheering me on and helping me out through it. Okay...back to the conference. So, it is Tuesday of the conference. Day 3. I have been overwhelmed by the stories, case studies, history of what mental health at the infant/early childhood level is like. It shook me to my very core on Monday....almost to the point where I wasn't sure I could go back and do another day. But nevertheless, Tuesday comes. And off I go back to Milwaukee for the conference.
Tuesday morning starts off somewhat rocky again with the rollercoaster of emotions taking over until one part of the day. The part of the day where someone asked about my pin. The pin I wear in honor of you. My pink rainbow ribbon pin that a very special friend of your mama's made for me and others like me who live their lives without their babies in their arms. So, one of new friends asks about my pin and if it has significance. I explain that it is a remembrance pin for babies who have died through pregnancy, stillbirth or in early infancy. I then told them about you. My little girl. The little girl I lost at 22 weeks. All three women were a little caught off guard about my story and then quickly apologized and showed empathy. One of them even said that if things ever became too difficult during this program (specifically when we talk about pregnancy), she wanted to let me know that she was here to support me. I appreciated the comfort talking about you gave me and how I was able to share your story so early on in my relationship with these new people.
As the day moved on, I thought about how quickly I had shared my story of you, especially with people I had only known for about 2 days. Yet, it came so easily, Kennedy. It just felt like another story of my life. Like I was talking about a trip I had taken. Typically, I hate thinking how rote it becomes for me to tell the story of your life. Because it shouldn't be easy. But it is. It's easy because it's my life. You are my life. Which leads me into the next part of this blog post.
The nationally recognized speaker (who had rocked me to my very core) was leading a break-out session later on in the day. My program required all of us "newbies" to sit in on his session. During his presentation, he shared a story about a man who was from Poland who had been taken in by another family during the Holocaust. The man (then a boy) lived in a wardrobe type closet for 18 months with only the man, woman and children bringing him food. Everything was done in this closet. The boy was never allowed to go out. After those 18 months, the war must have ended and the little boy was given the opportunity to go off on his own and find other members of his immediate family. According to the man, this family that he had lived with had saved his life. Only his life had been quite terrible living in this wardrobe all day/all night for a year. Can you only imagine? This boy could have been scarred by the situation. Actually, he probably was scarred. And scared. This was a traumatic event which probably gave him symptoms of PTSD. Yet, the boy/man was able to move on past the event. He lived through it and was given the chance to live again. And he truly lived. He lived to love and marry. He lived to have a family of his own. However, as he indicated in his video interview, this event was his story. It was his narrative that made him who he was today. He wished it didn't have to happen the way it did. But because it did, he lived to tell about it, and eventually live out his life and be happy.
After watching this video and hearing this man's story, the speaker asked us to think about our narrative. Our story. A story that has changed us. Or something that has made us who we are today. Kennedy, I didn't even have to stop and think about it like others did. You are my story. You are the one person in my life who has completely changed it. What happened to me, I would never wish on anyone else, yet it happened. I have come to accept it. And because of you, I am who I am today. And I am accepting that too. There are people who have come into my life who I would not have without you, yet I cannot imagine them not in my life now. And there are people who have disappeared from my life because of you that I don't truly believe belonged in my life at this point anyways. They played their role in my life, and maybe it's their time to bow out and make room for others. That's another acceptance. The other part of my life that I have learned to finally accept is the marriage to your daddy. Kennedy, for as long as I live, I will never say that the ending of our marriage was due to the loss of you. However, due to the loss of you, we became different people. People who grew apart, and, unfortunately, were never able to find ourselves back to each other. However, as I indicated before, special people have come into my life since then that have shown me how to be happy again. And maybe even love again.
The story of you and your role in my life has impacted me more in the past three years than anything else in the last 30. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. You may not be here, but everything I do, I have you in my heart and mind. You are never far away. I truly believe I am a better, more thoughtful, stronger person because of you. I think I am starting to find my place in the world again....or maybe just for the first time. As I have posted before, there are parts/events of my life before your impact that are blurry. I am forgetting that life. And I am "ok" with that. I cannot go back to that life, so why bother worrying about what it was like, who I was with, etc. If those people and events are part of my life now, then that is the way it is meant to be. If not, so be it. I cannot change who I am. I cannot change what has happened. You are my narrative. You are the story I want to share. Kennedy, you will always be the missing piece to my puzzle, yet you are also the piece that I always want to miss because I don't want the complete puzzle without you being a part of it.
One of the quotes, the speaker at my conference brought up was similar to the one I am posting below. "It is your REACTION to ADVERSITY, not the adversity itself, that DETERMINES how your LIFE'S STORY will develop, " quoted by Dieter F. Uchtdorf. He brought this up when telling the story of the man from Poland and after we talked about our narratives. It really is about how you react. And in various circumstances, we react differently depending on who we are. The loss of you, sweet girl, was my most traumatic adversity. And, at times, my reactions were all over the place, which, in turn has caused other events to occur. But, I believe my reaction to it now, is leading me down a path that I am comfortable with. Maybe that is the path of acceptance. It might also be the path of happiness.
Thank you, Kennedy, for being my narrative....a vital part of my story. You brought me to the place in my life where I am now. The clouds have parted. I am breathing easier. I see bluer skies. Sunshine. Sure, the tough days are there brought on by triggers that are completely out of my control. But those are also a part of my life now too. Those triggers are there because of that missing puzzle piece. You. And I wouldn't have it any other way. My daughther, you are the most precious gift I have ever been given. That is why you are my narrative. The gift of your life will always have an effect on my life, and for that, I am truly blessed.
Love you always, baby of mine.
XOXO,
Mommy
Tuesday morning starts off somewhat rocky again with the rollercoaster of emotions taking over until one part of the day. The part of the day where someone asked about my pin. The pin I wear in honor of you. My pink rainbow ribbon pin that a very special friend of your mama's made for me and others like me who live their lives without their babies in their arms. So, one of new friends asks about my pin and if it has significance. I explain that it is a remembrance pin for babies who have died through pregnancy, stillbirth or in early infancy. I then told them about you. My little girl. The little girl I lost at 22 weeks. All three women were a little caught off guard about my story and then quickly apologized and showed empathy. One of them even said that if things ever became too difficult during this program (specifically when we talk about pregnancy), she wanted to let me know that she was here to support me. I appreciated the comfort talking about you gave me and how I was able to share your story so early on in my relationship with these new people.
As the day moved on, I thought about how quickly I had shared my story of you, especially with people I had only known for about 2 days. Yet, it came so easily, Kennedy. It just felt like another story of my life. Like I was talking about a trip I had taken. Typically, I hate thinking how rote it becomes for me to tell the story of your life. Because it shouldn't be easy. But it is. It's easy because it's my life. You are my life. Which leads me into the next part of this blog post.
The nationally recognized speaker (who had rocked me to my very core) was leading a break-out session later on in the day. My program required all of us "newbies" to sit in on his session. During his presentation, he shared a story about a man who was from Poland who had been taken in by another family during the Holocaust. The man (then a boy) lived in a wardrobe type closet for 18 months with only the man, woman and children bringing him food. Everything was done in this closet. The boy was never allowed to go out. After those 18 months, the war must have ended and the little boy was given the opportunity to go off on his own and find other members of his immediate family. According to the man, this family that he had lived with had saved his life. Only his life had been quite terrible living in this wardrobe all day/all night for a year. Can you only imagine? This boy could have been scarred by the situation. Actually, he probably was scarred. And scared. This was a traumatic event which probably gave him symptoms of PTSD. Yet, the boy/man was able to move on past the event. He lived through it and was given the chance to live again. And he truly lived. He lived to love and marry. He lived to have a family of his own. However, as he indicated in his video interview, this event was his story. It was his narrative that made him who he was today. He wished it didn't have to happen the way it did. But because it did, he lived to tell about it, and eventually live out his life and be happy.
After watching this video and hearing this man's story, the speaker asked us to think about our narrative. Our story. A story that has changed us. Or something that has made us who we are today. Kennedy, I didn't even have to stop and think about it like others did. You are my story. You are the one person in my life who has completely changed it. What happened to me, I would never wish on anyone else, yet it happened. I have come to accept it. And because of you, I am who I am today. And I am accepting that too. There are people who have come into my life who I would not have without you, yet I cannot imagine them not in my life now. And there are people who have disappeared from my life because of you that I don't truly believe belonged in my life at this point anyways. They played their role in my life, and maybe it's their time to bow out and make room for others. That's another acceptance. The other part of my life that I have learned to finally accept is the marriage to your daddy. Kennedy, for as long as I live, I will never say that the ending of our marriage was due to the loss of you. However, due to the loss of you, we became different people. People who grew apart, and, unfortunately, were never able to find ourselves back to each other. However, as I indicated before, special people have come into my life since then that have shown me how to be happy again. And maybe even love again.
The story of you and your role in my life has impacted me more in the past three years than anything else in the last 30. I cannot imagine my life without you in it. You may not be here, but everything I do, I have you in my heart and mind. You are never far away. I truly believe I am a better, more thoughtful, stronger person because of you. I think I am starting to find my place in the world again....or maybe just for the first time. As I have posted before, there are parts/events of my life before your impact that are blurry. I am forgetting that life. And I am "ok" with that. I cannot go back to that life, so why bother worrying about what it was like, who I was with, etc. If those people and events are part of my life now, then that is the way it is meant to be. If not, so be it. I cannot change who I am. I cannot change what has happened. You are my narrative. You are the story I want to share. Kennedy, you will always be the missing piece to my puzzle, yet you are also the piece that I always want to miss because I don't want the complete puzzle without you being a part of it.
One of the quotes, the speaker at my conference brought up was similar to the one I am posting below. "It is your REACTION to ADVERSITY, not the adversity itself, that DETERMINES how your LIFE'S STORY will develop, " quoted by Dieter F. Uchtdorf. He brought this up when telling the story of the man from Poland and after we talked about our narratives. It really is about how you react. And in various circumstances, we react differently depending on who we are. The loss of you, sweet girl, was my most traumatic adversity. And, at times, my reactions were all over the place, which, in turn has caused other events to occur. But, I believe my reaction to it now, is leading me down a path that I am comfortable with. Maybe that is the path of acceptance. It might also be the path of happiness.
Thank you, Kennedy, for being my narrative....a vital part of my story. You brought me to the place in my life where I am now. The clouds have parted. I am breathing easier. I see bluer skies. Sunshine. Sure, the tough days are there brought on by triggers that are completely out of my control. But those are also a part of my life now too. Those triggers are there because of that missing puzzle piece. You. And I wouldn't have it any other way. My daughther, you are the most precious gift I have ever been given. That is why you are my narrative. The gift of your life will always have an effect on my life, and for that, I am truly blessed.
Love you always, baby of mine.
XOXO,
Mommy
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