Sunday, February 13, 2011
A letdown...
It's been awhile...and again, I know that I owe some giveaway prizes, so the winners will be announced either tonight still or tomorrow. But I had to write tonight because there's been a lot on my mind, and I finally have some time to get it all out. As most of you know, I have been dealing with the illness of my grandmother. Well, the illness has been deemed terminal, and as of last week, my "Grams", has gone to live at my aunt's house with the intention that she will never go home again. The doctors said they could do no more for her, and it's up to her family and Hospice to care for her needs whatever they may be. The objective now is to make her life bearable...and pain free....and enjoyable the best we can. As many of you probably know, this is a very difficult task for anyone. My Grams is an extremely independent and strong-willed person. This is not the kind of life she wants for herself, nor does she want this for any of the people she loves most in the world. She hates the idea of being a burden. See, my Grams tells her family that she is scared. But what most of my family members don't understand is that my Grams is most scared of leaving behind a "mess" or bringing sadness to her family. She loves us all so much....just as we all love our children. She hates the idea of bringing pain to any of us. Yet she realizes that her leaving will bring us pain, even if only for a little while. So, she is scared for us. She's not scared for herself. My Grams knows where she will go next and with whom she will be with. My Grams will go to Heaven. She will be with her parents, her nephew, her baby brother, her very own babies, and my sweet Kennedy. She sees all the positives of what Heaven will be like for her. But yet....right now, that's not where she is. Right now, my Grams suffers. My Grams is in pain. My Grams is sad. And there is so little I can do for her.
This leads into the next part of my post....the letdown. As I sat by her bedside on Thursday, I told my Grams how much I love her. I told her how much I am like her. And my Grams looked at me and said, "Oh, Alissa, I wish I was more like you. " Here she was again, putting me first. She had looked at me with tears in her eyes...and constant pain...and put me on that pedestal. And all I could do is thank her and squeeze her hand. I can't do anything more. I can only be there....and do what I can to make this situation easier. But it's not easy....and there's such a feeling of letdown. Because as I watch my Grams potentially dying, I know that she never had the opportunity to hold her great-granddaughter on Earth. We'll never have the chance to have a 4 generations picture. Or spend holidays together.
When I lost Kennedy, I lost all of those opportunities. I wanted so much to give my "6" grandparents a great-grandchild that they could spend time with....love....watch grow up for as long as they were around. They all wanted that too. Because Kennedy didn't make it....and now for other reasons...they may never have that chance. It's a terrible feeling. All I could think about on Thursday is how much joy Kennedy would have brought to my Grams as she laid in bed that day. Kennedy may have been walking...babbling....etc. I can imagine her smiling and touching my Grams hand. Maybe even Grams would hold her hand. And I know....and hope to know that Grams and Kennedy will be together sooner than I will ever be with my little girl. But in times like Thursday...and in the days ahead...there is nothing I can give my Grams that could top anything that my daughter could have given her. I know that, which makes it extremely hard to deal with the overwhelming sense of being a letdown to those I love most. I do know that there is nothing I could do about the loss of Kennedy....but it is still one of those situations that hits you where and when you hurt the most.
Tuesday, February 8, 2011
A sign of good things...?
The main reason behind this post was to feature a story that showed people overcoming adversity. We, as BLMs, constantly overcome adversity to keep moving on throughout life after we lose our babies. Although, the Packers story doesn't even come close to many of ours....they are still a team that had to overcome a lot. I always find it amazing how just about everything I watch or listen to can relate to our situations in the babyloss community. Maybe it's a better perspective that I'm not really as alone as I think I am. Or maybe it's just me reaching out to believe that everyone can somehow relate to my situation. I don't know...but somehow, the Packers seem to relate well to me.

They started the year as pre-season favorites. I went into my pregnancy naively thinking that everything will be okay. The Packers started suffering injuries. My pregnancy never was easy. The Packers started losing. I started bleeding...which ultimately led me to know that I had lost my baby girl. The Packers struggled to find ways to win....people who could step up to the plate. I continue to struggle with the loss I suffered and am looking and leaning on people to support me. The Packers take the hardest route to the Super Bowl. As I also grieve the loss of my baby, I continue to grieve for what my life was before....including dealing with other traumatic events. The Packers win the Super Bowl. I continue to wonder when my Super Bowl will occur...when I will win or find the answers behind the adversity. But since the Packers won....maybe my answers aren't too far behind? Maybe the good things are just around the corner? I sure hope so....and I hope the same for all of you.

By the way, please continue to comment on my post 100+ followers post for a chance at the giveaway. Thanks again for your support and love.


Friday, February 4, 2011
100+ followers Giveaway

One book in particular that holds a special place in my heart is Knocked Up, Knocked Down by Monica Murphy LeMoine. In a recent post titled Somewhere to Belong, I had written about the "realness" of this writer and the connectedness I felt when reading her story. As a fellow blog writer herself, the author really knew what I needed to hear and how to make me feel less alone. She helped me have a place to belong and someone to belong with. This is what all my followers have done for me also. I know how much I hate that we are on this journey together, but honestly, there is no one I would rather be on it with. You all are so wonderful....and I am beyond blessed by you and what you have done to help me.

The 2nd option for a winner will be the book, Tear Soup, by Pat Schweibert and Chuck DeKlyen. This book was lent to me from my grief counselor early on after the loss of my daughter. This book was written specifically for grief after the loss of a baby, yet the loss felt very much the same. It's written from the eyes of Grandy, an elderly woman, who has experience a loss of some kind, although you are never actually sure whom she grieves for. Yet, as you read Grandy's story, she validates grief and she validates the time essence of grief. She and the authors make you feel that it's okay to "make tear soup" for as long as you need. This is another similarity to my followers. You have all validated me. You have made me feel important and loved. You have respected the time it has taken me....and continue to support me no matter what. I am eternally grateful to you for doing that. It's been a huge help to me.
So, please, comment on this post if you are interested in winning either one of these books to help you on your journey. Knocked Up, Knocked Down will make you laugh and to cry all in the same chapter and help you realize that we do get better....and things will get easier....yet never the same. Tear Soup will help you and others appreciate your grieving time. It will make you realize that there is no time limit to what you are feeling. Either one is a good choice and have definitely been huge supports to me...and I cannot wait to share one of them with you. Please indicate which book you would prefer when commenting. Thank you again. ((hugs))
*Winners will be chosen by February 12th, 2011.*
Monday, January 24, 2011
Thank you, my friends
- Tom Petty
This blog has allowed me to share something that many in my real life never really got to know....my daughter, Kennedy. I can talk about Kennedy and share the love I hold in my heart for her more openly here, with my grief counselor or in my support groups than I can with anyone else in my life. Yet, unlike my grief counselor or support group, there is no time limit. I can write whenever I want for as long as I want. And, more than likely, someone will listen (read) and respond.
This blog has also allowed me to "find myself" in a variety of different ways. I have always loved to write....but I really didn't do much of it until now. And every time I write, I can write about the one person that means most to me, my daughter. What a gift that is. I feel like I can be more open....and honest here. I can talk to people who truly get me for me. There are no comments of "When will the old Alissa be back?" or "Why is she so different?" from any of you. You take me as I am. And I truly am blessed because of that.
So, to my 100 followers, I thank you from the bottom of my heart. I only wish that I could thank you all personally...with a "real" hug or gift. I am so amazed at your generosity, your support, and your love, that sometimes it brings me to tears that you are all a part of my life. Kennedy gave you to me. And as always, I am indebted to her in all she has given to me in the short time she was on Earth. But I am also indebted to you. I hope that I can be as supportive of you all on your journeys as you have been to me. In the next week, I hope to be holding a giveaway in honor of my 100 followers. Still working on the details of that, though. Thank you again, my friends. Sending my love to you always.
- Dave Matthews Band
- "Lean On Me"
Sunday, January 23, 2011
Fighting what's on my mind...
As I sit down and write tonight, I have many things on my mind. My mind is worried about my Grams...as she has taken a turn back into the ICU with pneumonia again. She is quite the fighter, though, which helps ease my mind a little. But how long can this fight continue? She's worn out...and her mind and body are too. Even the most determined and strong-willed person can only fight for so long, right?
Then, my heart and mind turns to my life. Yesterday, I recognized it as the 22nd due to other baby loss mommas status and blog updates. The 22nd reminds me that it's been a certain many months since my beautiful daughter entered Heaven. To be exact, it's been 15. I can hardly believe it's been that long. It feels just like yesterday in so many ways. I hope that's an "okay" way to feel still. I really feel strong and in some ways, "at peace", when it comes to remembering my little girl, but I still have "those" days. The days when I want to just go back. Back to a time when I was pregnant and excited about the prospect of holding my baby and raising her.
And finally and probably most prominently, my mind turns to my current marital situation. (As a side note....I realize that this blog is about my life as a BLM now, but I also know how much being a BLM has affected my current life, including my marriage. And I desperately need support through this journey, too. Thank you to all who will continue to read this part of my story) As I had mentioned a couple posts back, my husband and I have been separated for about four months now. We have attended counseling a couple of times and spent some time together. Yet, it's been very infrequent. And when I do see him, I feel as if the air is sucked of me. As if every happy feeling that I may have been having is suddenly taken from me...and am smack dab in the reality of what my marriage has turned into. And basically, it's turned into a mess. A mess that I despise. A mess that I just want cleaned up. A mess that I would prefer someone else to take care of. Where's my mom when I need her? Oh yeah....I'm 29 years old. This is my mess. And this is my journey called life. I need to take care of this one. But how do I do that? I'm so confused....and so alone on this one. Even people who know what's going on have very little advice on what to do. Mostly I hear, "you will know." Well, what does that feel like? When will I know? I really would prefer to know now, and then decide what to do. I wish it felt like it was more in my control....and maybe it is.
Obviously, I'm way confused. And very sad. This is not where my life is supposed to be. This is not the way I thought it would ever end up. I never thought that life would be so hard. That everything I knew and once loved would suddenly seem so confusing and sad at the same time. I mean, I'm seriously still in the midst of grieving for my daughter. And I know it's been a long time, but it's where I am. How do I now deal with the possibility of losing my grandmother or watching her suffer on a regular basis, figure out my marriage, and grieve for my daughter....along with dealing with the everyday life activities? It's just too much. I feel vulnerable to sadness. I can feel my body giving in to just be sad again. I remember what November felt like. It was terrible. But I feel like I'm headed that way. I'm fighting so hard....but how long can I do this? How long can I physically keep up this fight without completely breaking down?
Friday, January 21, 2011
Cherry on Top award



The rules of the Cherry on Top Award are as follows:1. Link back to the person that gave you the award---see above.
2. Pass it on to five (or more) other blogs.
3. Leave them a comment telling them about the award.
In no particular order....
1. Rachel at Curls O Fred
2. Mattie at Beauty Will Rise
3. Tami at Our Sweet Corinne Ellery
4.Leanne at Longing, Living, Loving
5. Megan at Illuminating Sadness
6. Jenn at Jenn's Den
Thank you for sharing your stories, ladies. I appreciate what you say and want you to always know you are supported and loved. ((hugs))
Thursday, January 20, 2011
That's what friends are supposed to do
They are the people who continue to make an effort to call despite the lack of callbacks. They are the people who continue to invite me to events despite my lack of accepting the offer. They are the people who reach out just to send an email saying they are thinking of me today. I am blessed to have these kinds of people in my life. They are what I call "true" friends. The friends that will stick by me through the good times and bad. The friends that understand what I need and will respect that of me.
I know that this can be very difficult...and I understand that people really don't know what to do or what to say. But, what's really different about a friend losing a job and just stating that if they need anything, you'll be there for them. And then when you see or talk to that person again, you ask them how things are going. How is that different than our situations? They both seem like difficult topics to talk about. They both have pretty sad endings...but offer hope for new beginnings. Guess it seems easier to me than maybe it really is? But maybe that's what makes our situation so much more difficult than any other form of grief?
We, as baby loss families, have dealt with the worse...and we know how to handle just about anything that comes our way. We understand how to be there for other people who are suffering a similar loss or painful situation. We know what we would want...and what people did for us. Or what people didn't do. It is a lot about the education, I guess. Teaching people what we feel, how we feel, and what they can do to help us feel better. And then having people realize that what we have taught them can pretty much apply to many "heartbreaking" situations. Doesn't really seem fair that this is our job? I know I really don't need to add anything more to my plate. But in honor of my daughter, I feel like I must. It's my duty as her mom to help others understand what my needs are, so that they may truly know what to do if this should ever happen again.
What is key to the education of others is that they must be willing. A person must want to understand. They must care so much about you and value your friendship, that they want to hear about you, your child and how you are dealing with it. Again, I really believe that those are your "true" friends. My "true" friends don't cringe when I bring up my pregnancy. Or Kennedy's name. Her heaven date. Support group. Blog. Etc. They listen. They want to know more. They get excited for me thinking about the idea of a walk in October. Or when I have something new on to honor her. Or they just simply ask "how are you?" with the full intention of wanting to know how I am dealing with the loss of my daughter. And these friends do this because they truly understand what friends are supposed to do.
Bruno Mars
I'll sail the world to find you
If you ever find yourself lost in the dark and you can't see
I'll be the light to guide you
Find out what we're made of
When we are called to help our friends in need
You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do, oh yeah, ooh, ooh
If you toss and you turn and you just can't fall asleep
I'll sing a song beside you
And if you ever forget how much you really mean to me
Everyday I will remind you
Find out what we're made of
When we are called to help our friends in need
You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do, oh yeah, ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah
You'll always have my shoulder when you cry
I'll never let go, never say goodbye
You can count on me like one, two, three
I'll be there and I know when I need it
I can count on you like four, three, two
And you'll be there 'cause that's what friends
Are supposed to do, oh yeah, ooh, ooh
You can count on me 'cause I can count on you
Monday, January 17, 2011
Just the Way You Are
Make the stars look like they're not shining
Her hair, her hair
Falls perfectly without her trying
She's so beautiful
And I tell her every day
Yeah I know, I know
When I compliment her
She wont believe me
And its so, its so
Sad to think she don't see what I see
But every time she asks me do I look okay
I say
When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are
Her nails, her nails
I could kiss them all day if she'd let me
Her laugh, her laugh
She hates but I think its so sexy
She's so beautiful
And I tell her every day
Oh you know, you know, you know
I'd never ask you to change
If perfect is what you're searching for
Then just stay the same
So don't even bother asking
If you look okay
You know I say
When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are
The way you are
The way you are
Girl you're amazing
Just the way you are
When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile,
The whole world stops and stares for awhile
Cause girl you're amazing
Just the way you are
To end this post, I just want each and every one of you to know that I find you all amazing....beautiful....and perfect....just the way you are. Thank you for your support and love. Always.
Sunday, January 9, 2011
Somewhere to belong...
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.



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