Carrying a load

"It's not the load that breaks you down,
It's the way you carry it."
~Lena Forde
(shared at The Academy Awards last night)

You know how much it breaks my heart to have to write on here that I'm not doing well. That I'm having a hard day. I know it's all a part of the process, but being the strong-willed person that I am, I hate that the one thing I want to share with the world is that my heart just hurts. It's been over 16 months since my daughter went to Heaven. My Grams continues to fight. And my marriage...well, it's at a standstill. But I hurt for me today. I hurt for what I have lost. What I have wanted. What I should have.

Sure, some of this stems from the fact that I've been sick for an entire week with some crazy virus...including an ear infection and a cough that can be heard throughout my apartment building. I have barely slept in a week. I have tons of work to catch up on, but I have no interest in doing any of it. I would like to say that some of this sadness and frustration is also because I missed support group due to conferences last week, but I don't know. Maybe I'm just due? Maybe it's high time that I'm sad again for awhile?

Do you ever just feel like there are times in your life that you just can't give anymore? Or that you deserve a break? That's kind of what I'm feeling. Like I deserve a break. Like all the bad/sad stuff that continues to happen should just be put on hiatus for little while in order for me to just breathe....and be okay. And I know there's some saying that "God only gives us as much as we can handle" (or something like it), but it just seems to be a lot. Too much. I think He's given me too much. Because I'm having a really hard time carrying this all around with me right now. And if there's another way that I should be carrying it...then please let me know.

This is one of those days where I really miss my life. I miss the life before. I wonder what going back 2+ years would show me. I wonder if I could have fixed something or made it better. No, of course I don't regret Kennedy. I would never regret her or what she brought to my life then or now. It's a different regret. It probably deals more with my marriage than with my baby. But when I think back 2+ years....I just wonder. I see pictures of me then. I don't even know who that girl is. Or what she felt or wanted out of life. Isn't that crazy? I can't even remember. She looks happy. Isn't it funny how much appearance can play tricks on our minds?

I sit here at 29 years old. I feel old beyond my years. I have aged so much in 2 years...not physically, but definitely emotionally. I know it's because I carry a burden with me. A burden to find something to fill the void that has been left in my heart. A void that can only be filled by true love and happiness. If Kennedy was here with me physically, she would fill most of that void. But because she's not, there's a gaping hole. Sure, I've had truly happy moments. I have felt love. But it's still not enough to overcome what I feel. I'm still looking for that...and maybe that's part of the load I am carrying. This load that is wearing me down. Maybe happiness and love are not where I'm looking? Maybe I'm looking too hard? Or maybe it's just not time yet? Who knows? It all seems pretty much out of my control at this point.

You know that point in the Wizard of Oz where the Mayor tells Dorothy to just follow the yellow brick road? And she keeps questioning it? That's me to a "T". I am Dorothy. I want to know why this all has been placed on me. Why I am here. I need answers. But maybe my answers come from the people who are on this journey with me now? Maybe all of you and others that have come into my life are the Lion, Scarecrow and Tin Man. Helping me carry my basket (load). I feel that. And I know you are all here for me. Thank you.

Wow, this post is all over the place. I apologize for that. Guess there's just a lot on my mind. Too much. Wish there was a way I could just let my mind rest sometimes. I know that it would ease my soul a little.

Dear Kennedy Kate,

Mommy really hasn't written to you for awhile, even though you know you are always on my mind. I miss you, sweet girl. I miss what my life would be like had you been here. I miss what you should be doing. I miss taking care of you. I miss your love. I feel like I carry a burden, Kennedy. A burden to find the kind of love that you gave me. I want so much to be a good mother to you, but I want so much to be a mother to a baby here on Earth. I ache for that opportunity. I ache for the chance to hold a baby in my arms and call him/her mine. I missed that chance with you. I'm sorry for that. I will never forgive myself for not holding you. For not doing things different. In so many ways, I have very little proof that you were even here. That tears me up inside. The thought that people never even knew. Or will never know. I won't let that happen. Mommy is working on things. She's making sure you are always remembered. Please continue to hold out that light for me, Kennedy. There are times, like today, where it seems dim or flickering, but I know it's there. I know you are my little light and you are helping me carry this load. Thank you, KK.

Love to you always,
Mommy

Somewhere to belong...

Just recently I started reading Knocked Up, Knocked Down by Monica Murphy LeMoine. I had found Monica's blog early on in my journey and felt a huge connection with the way she was able to write openly and honestly. She had a way of writing that made me feel like we were having a conversation. I didn't actually feel like I was reading someone who actually "knew how to write." She wrote from her heart....and wanted to share exactly the way she felt as to touch others who were going through some of the same emotions. So, in November, a month after Kennedy's heaven date, I finally ordered this book on Amazon. I finally felt like I was ready to read a book from someone who was "real", almost brutally honest in her journey. I have yet to finish the book, but there was a part in the book that hit me like a brick wall....it hit and made me realize how much I connected with this author, yet have almost been afraid to admit it.

In the book, the author experienced pregnancy with two of her best friends. She formed a "Mommy's club" with these two other women and the shared the joys and downfalls of pregnancy. The author writes about how she had imagined the three children growing up together and the everlasting bonds that their families would share. When the author lost her little boy in the last month of pregnancy, she realized how alone she was. How disconnected from Earth she felt. How disconnected she felt from the two women she called her best friends. As the author goes through the first few months of grief and the births of the other babies, she talks about how she isn't sure she can continue to be friends with these ladies but that "being excluded from her little snow-globe world of prego-friends and happiness disappearing, was more than she could bear." When the author visits her friends and their babies, she talks about how "wrong and fake" it feels. She even goes to express that she feels that her "carefully cultivated and much-worshiped relationships are changing beyond her control." As a final statement in her chapter titled Ashes on my Hands, one of her "best" friends comes up to her at her son's memorial service and gives her a hug. The author describes it is as a "goodbye." "Goodbye, friend. Our roads are parting. Catch you on the flip side."

This is a very real feeling for me. I know what it's like to meet someone you totally connect with....and want to share the same journeys with. I have many best friends who are at those stages in their lives. They have been happily married for three to five years and are now ready to add a little bundle of joy to the picture. This is where I thought I was two to three years ago. So, I happily talked about what it would be like to have children at the same time with many of my good friends. And it really was all panning out to be that way (despite the fact that things in life really weren't as good as I wanted them to be--but that's another part of the story). So, there I was pregnant, about 9 months after one of my best friends, 6 weeks ahead another, and nine months ahead of one more. It was all going to work out so perfectly....yet, as you all know, it didn't. And here I stand on the outside. I stand on the outside looking in at friends who continue to get pregnant, have already had their babies, and are even on their way to thinking about having others. I watch as they talk about what their babies are doing, how "magical" Christmas was with them, how glorious pregnancy is, how "easy" the heartbeat is to find, etc. I feel the pain in my heart every time I read the card that says, "Dad's name, Mom's name, and baby." I no longer belong to this club...and my little Snow-Globe no longer exists. It's been eliminated by the fact that my baby isn't here on Earth. So, that's one club that I really don't belong in. Because I'm a mom, but not to a baby here. But I'm also not someone who has never carried a baby, so where do I belong?

Then there is the club of "happily married." I don't belong to this club either... And since I would prefer not to go into great detail about this part of my life yet, I will just say that in late September, I chose to remove myself from a sad and difficult situation and separate from my husband. We have currently been separated for about 4 months now. So, as many of my friends are living their "June and Ward Cleaver" life, I look from the outside there too. I'm not single...but I'm not really married either. So, where do I belong?

As someone who really always felt connected to groups of people....I somehow have ended on the outskirts. The people that I once called "best" friends are losing their role in my life as I am in theirs. It hurts something terrible to have this realization...but it's a very real fact. Until these parts of my life somehow come together again soon, I feel that these friendships and people are going to end up too far away to catch up to or with. But maybe that's the way it's all supposed to be? My Aunt Kathy, from Texas, who has been a huge support for me for the past year and a half, told me over Christmastime that she sees only "big" things for me in the future. She sees Kennedy holding the light out to me....as if to show me what other things in life I can find happiness in. She talked to me about how I have to hold out for that "hope" that things will be okay. That things will work out. And that those people who have been there for me will always be there...even if it might look or feel different. She also made me think about the new people I have met through this journey....and how those friendships are a sign or gift from my beautiful daughter. She wanted me to find people....and feel connected. Kennedy knew that would be important to me.

So, as I find myself continuing to search for somewhere to belong that includes, but is not limited to: a place to call "home"; friends who I feel connected with and loved; a job that always brings a smile to my face; a sense of peace of what my beautiful Kennedy means to my life now; and a way to be happy with someone, I continue to hold out for hope that this "somewhere" is possible. I have to believe that there is a place for me. There is a plan for me. I just don't know what it is just yet. Keep holding out that light, Kennedy. Show me, sweet girl. Show me what this world has in store for me.