Locust

News Years Resolution numero uno is going well.
De Clutter - too much stuff - too much clutter

Going through drawers, boxes, and baskets in an effort to sale, donate, or keep. 

Inevitably through all the eagerness to get my home organized and ready for twenty-fifteen, I come across notes, letters, pictures, clothes, memories, and more.  Many things that I could never part with. 

A card, written shortly after October 13.  A Dear Summer letter to bring comfort to a shattered heart.  As I open up the card I am immediately back to that time, the end of 2011.  The pain of those memories race through my veins. The knots in the depth of my soul that have somewhat become weaker find their strength again and grip onto to center of my throat.  Tears flow and I can't help but begin to read.

I have been praying blessings over you and your family.  I asked God for a word for you and this is what HE said...

My daughter,

Kelsie is with Me.  She is smiling over you. I have you in My hand and I will not let go.  You are no accident.  My plans and purposes for you are far greater and wider than you even realize.  Trust in Me.  Follow as I lead you.  You are becoming who I created you to be.  You are like Hannah.  You have surrendered your child to Me and I am glorified.  I will give back to you the years the locusts have eaten and I will redeem the time, and the blessings will be upon you.  Joy is coming.  Kelsie cannot be replaced, but the joy will be multiplied.  I am your God and I bring you joy and strength.  You are a leader among women.  Teaching, instructing, and ministering.  Healing will come and you will bring healing to many.

I wonder what those words meant to me then, or was it just for such a time.  Alone in my dark room, indian style next to my unmade bed, twenty fifteen, over three years later.

How Grief Stole Christmas

For three years now, November brings this undeniable, gut wrenching, ball of anxiety. 
"Seriously I have to do this again."
I have to force myself:  to be thankful, a smile - it's forced.  Getting out of bed, all the decorating. Enjoying family time - sometimes this is the absolute worst because her absence is piercing.  Forcing an "ok" when asked "how are you".  Seriously I don't want to rain on anyone's cheer.  Making Christmas cards to send - she is missing - how do I incorporate her?  Did I mention smiling?

Honestly about the only things not forced;  the tears that flow in my silent home. 
The heartache that her empty chair brings as we sit down for dinner.
Remembering her, wanting her, missing her, loving her.

             The emptiness
                                                  The missing

Engulfs every part of my holiday.  What's missing is so overwhelming it can not go unnoticed.  It is not the happiest time of the year for me.  It is one of the three saddest times of the year.

Her Birthday
Her Death
Holidays

I will not count my blessings because with every single blessing, attached is a piece of her, Kelsie. Kelsie, who I should be baking cookies with right now, wrapping her presents, anticipating her smile Christmas morning. 

She would know this year...she would know.

I will, however, remember her, love because of her, embrace the tender mercies, I will cry because of her, I will smile because of her, I will laugh, I will cuss, I will give and I will receive gratefully.  I will live - just like I do, day after day. 

Grief is not linear, just as the earth spins so does grief. A new season with each passing

year,
            day,
                        minute,
                                      second. 

With every passing season a new kind of grief erupts.

With every passing season a "should be" set of milestones are missed, deeply missed. 

The Monster

It was probably around ten years ago that my sister, Jesika, and I grabbed our littlest sister from the grip of an evil evil man.  We stalked her for days trying to figure out where she was.  Some real "true detective" stuff.  We found her, we marched up to the tweakers front door and dragged her out of there.    Unfortunately, for us and for our family, my beautiful sister, had already dibbled into the monster and that monster had and has a tight grip on her. 

Her soul
Her heart
Her smile
Her skin
Her teeth
Her personality

The list of craziness goes on and on from that day a little over ten years ago.  Should haves and would haves race through my mind as I think about her today.  I don't have any type of relationship with her, I can't, I can't stand her, can't look at her, can't speak to her without venom spewing from my heart to the tips of my lips.  The monster does a crazy thing to those you love.  Her first baby was born blind-her dad left her in a bathtub alone, she drowned-nearly died at my wedding.  Kristen, my sister, showed up drunk to Kelsie's funeral.  The monster will consume all addictions if he can not be at your beck and call. 

Last year
Ivory was ran over
by her dad.
Ivory is blind

WHY was she left unattended with a moving vehicle?

The monster-"a foggy mind- better for me to live in, my pretty". 

Kristen's latest
testing
monster positive

After her newest baby, we call her Emma, was born.  "i was tired" said the monster "i just needed a bit".   A sweet baby girl two weeks old, is left alone with her evil dad, who is wrapped into the monsters unrelenting grip.  Kristen can not be around her baby, CYFD says.   My heart is torn between anger, sadness, love, anger, yes mostly anger.  The monster has striped away everything from her, now her kids, who are absolutely worse off with their dad.  Can she hear her own soul speaking to her, or is the monsters voice, the monsters side all she hears.

Just    one    more   hit   and     this   will    be  better.

I don't pray much these days, but God if you can hear me, drown out the monsters voice, give her voice a chance to be heard.  Not for me, not for her, but for her three precious children.  They don't have a chance if they have to compete with the monster for their entire life. 

Pineapple

TTC, OPK, BFN, 2WW #twoweekwait, praying for a BFP.  BBT,  DH, DPO, now DPIUI, HPT, #theeverdreaded AF, LP, follicles, RO - LO, Pineapple

Chances are you only know this language if you are trying to conceive (TTC).  If your two week waiting period (TWW) leaves you with a BFN (Big Fat (edited version) Negative) time after time after time. 

Your next
                 two weeks keeps you
                                                   on your knees praying
                                                                                         for a Big Fat Positive (BFP). 

If you have a private Pinterest board and your first pin is a picture of a Pineapple, you are in the TTC club.  Did you know the bromelain  in pineapple is said to help with implantation.  Oh & your diet is key to getting pregnant-seriously meth addicts pop babies like a candy machine that has a broken quarter slot-whatever.  Well despite my cynicism, I am adamant about my eating habits, my vitamins and my water intake.  Now that we are forking out hundreds of dollars a month TTC I have to dot every I and cross every T.  And before you say - oh you should just stop trying - just have fun - go on vacation -

check

check

check

We have done all that in the last two years. 

Results...
BFN - only one BFP that ended less than two weeks after the great news.

I struggled about sharing this - this isn't your normal facebook post criteria and it certainly isn't the norm, because seriously everyone around me seems to have no problem getting pregnant, sending me baby announcements, inviting me to their baby showers, posting BFP on FB (oh that one is Facebook).  Don't get me wrong I am happy for everyone who has conceived and delivered their little bundle of joy, but for a mom who is struggling with fertility it's difficult.

A mom who has experienced the loss of her baby

quadruple

difficult

Where is my easy button - life should be a little smoother, right?  Here is where I have to insert the whammy, actually make that a double whammy.

I have taken clomid for the past three months, AF (aunt flow) comes right on time...time and time again.  This month my Dr., who is absolutely wonderful BTW, has suggested IUI.  Thankfully I have a DH (Darling Husband) who is so very supportive, encouraging and keeps me

somewhat positive - somewhat hopeful. 

I am sure you can hear the frustration by reading my words.  He doesn't even flinch-when and where. 

October 25, IUI day.  That's today...
DH's report is flawless
I pick up and tuck that sample inside my sports bra, rush over to my Dr.

I have two follicles - very large - very round - follicles - one in my right ovary, one in my left ovary.  My ovulation predictor kit (OPK) shows my LH surge is happening as I type.   Billions of little swimmers are trying to make their way to one of those eggs. 
The stars are aligned perfectly.
I will know in two weeks.

So we wait

two
        very
                 long
                          weeks

13.1

I can say for certain my first half marathon was anything but boring.  Denise and I pulled into a parking lot 1.2 miles away from the starting line at 7:30am - the race started at 7:30am.  That 1.2 miles was cake - going to the race - walking back - I will get to that part a little later.  We met Melanie along the way to the starting line.  We had to sneak in with the 5Ker's.  So keep in mind I have already ran/walked a mile before I even started this thing.

I have to admit the first five - six miles was amazing, the air was cool, the view was spectacular.  Running as the hot air balloons flew above us was incredible.  Denise and Melanie were a hoot.  Denise made us stop and take pictures with the firemen.  Melanie had to make a pit stop in the bush.  Right before we hit mile five or six (I can't remember exactly) I had to make a bathroom stop - so Denise and Melanie who were already pacing well above my snail speed went on.  I waited in line for almost five minutes by the time I got out of there I had lost 10 minutes of my time-blah.  Someone should invent racing catheters, JK that would be awful!  When I stepped out of that bathroom I swear the temperature went up by ten degrees or so.  It got extremely hot extremely fast.  I kept on keeping on.  I had a good 12 min pace going through mile eight, slowed down to a 13/14 minute pace through 10.  By mile 10 my feet felt like 10 ton bricks, my legs were numb.  Then right in front of me a lady collapses, she was 75 years old!!  Thank God there were bike EMT's right behind me who saw her collapse.  I stayed with her and the EMT's until EMT golf cart came to take her to the ambulance.  After that, my mind went to mush, I couldn't regain a steady pace, I cried for almost mile and a half, scared to death I was going to collapse.  I had to walk, I kept a fast pace walk until mile 12.  I picked up the pace because I knew I could not stand it for another 15 minutes if I walked.  So I shut my mind down, took off my headphones, and went for it.  I finished the last mile at about a 10 minute pace. 



When I saw Jeff, Dylan, Donna, Denise, Mike waiting at the finish line, my heart dropped I had to hold back my tears.  I was almost there just a few more steps and it was over.  Quite honestly, I think I was on the verge of a heat stroke.  I don't remember much right after the race. I wanted to puke, but didn't have the energy, I wanted to faint, thank God I didn't.  Then reality hits - I still have another 1.2 miles to get to my car!  About half way there, on the corner of Spring Creek and Jupiter I sprawl out on the pavement in the shade and give up.  Dylan stays with me, Jeff heads to the car.  I am seriously to the point of no return, when a car pulls right up to the curb, it's Donna-OMG-air conditioning.  Dylan and I pile into her car.  We pick up Jeff on the way. 




Now that my body feels normal, my mind is back in tact, I am amazed at what our bodies can endure. Physically, mentally, emotionally.  I wanted to get on the golf cart with the EMT's, they asked me if I needed to.  Every thing in me wanted to say yes, everything except one voice-you have been through worse-you can finish this.  I politely turned down my exit ticket and went on to finish.






I miss her, every single day I miss her.  I don't know how I do life without her, but I do.  I have an amazing young man that keeps my heart full, and I have an amazing Husband whose strength carries me through.  I have friends and family that support me every single day, through good times, through bad times.  They just walk beside me, never judging, never offering unsolicited advice, but they all allow me to pave this journey, to make my own way through her loss. 

The day after Kelsie died, I ran-I didn't know what else to do.  I needed an escape from the noise, I wanted to go back to normal.  When I put my shoes on the pavement, something happens to my mind, and my body.  Around mile two I get chills that run through my body and I know I can go as far as my mind will allow me.  Once my rhythm hits my mind focuses on breathing and in that moment it is just me.  Not the grieving mother, the wife, the employee, the maid, the counselor, the teacher, the trainer; it's just me.  Running - that's why it's my therapy. 

It's Cliche

My not so baby, baby boy starts middle school today.  It's so cliché but so true, time goes by so fast.  Dylan's first twelve years have been a rollercoaster full of highs and lows.  At 23, after the shock of pregnancy wore off, I was completely and utterly head over heals for my baby boy to be.  When that little guy was born my heart was his.  He was such a good baby, seriously sleeping for almost six hours at night on day three.  Crying a little for food, diaper change, or sleepy time but other than he was a happy baby.  As he grew into a toddler, I had never had so much joy in my life.  Watching him grow, helping him learn, listening to him, loving him was a gift.  I wonder if I realized what a true gift it was at that time? I don't think so, I was too young. 

Now that we enter into these new years, I am aware of the gift I have been given and that I have been able to keep.  Going into Middle School I am not sad, I was, the end of 5th grade I didn't want to believe I would drop him off at Middle School at the end of August but here we are.   I couldn't be more proud of my young man, he is brave, caring, he works hard, he believes in himself.   My heart is aware that not every mom is given the gift to see their little boy grow into young man, my heart is also aware that I am not promised tomorrow with him so I must live in the present, be willing to change as he changes.  Take the time to learn about this new young man he is becoming.  Give him his space to grow but stay close enough to help him through life's battles.  I look forward to today, dropping him off into a new school, watching him adapt over the next few days and then this new era of adolescence.  I love his life, I honor his living soul, I cherish each tender moment.  I pray for life-for breathe-please don't take his away. 

One Thousand and Fifteen

One thousand and fifteen days.

I miss her every moment of every day. 

One thousand and fifteen days since she died and every single morning her face is the first thing I think of.  The reality of her death is my very first thought every single day.  One thousand and fifteen days. 

One thousand and fifteen days, smiling when I think of her smile.  Remembering, crying, laughing screaming.   The impact of her life, her love, my deep unending love for her.  One thousand and fifteen days.

One thousand and fifteen days that the living have lived, I have lived, we have lived.  One thousand and fifteen days of watching baby girls as they grow into little girls.  Wondering, imagining. One thousand and fifteen days.

One thousand and fifteen days. 

Day One- Darkness covers me, my chest has this heaviness that still on day one thousand and fifteen I bear. 

Day Ten-The world is thick, it's like I am walking in molasses while everyone is taking the molasses free HOV lane.  The pain, absolutely unbearable so I hide it, push it away, undeal.

Day eighty three- I am thankful for the friends and family that still send love letters via snail mail.  Thank you for remembering me, and honoring her.  I always feel in someway that it is Kelsie's heavenly hug to me.

Day One Hundred - I cling to my faith, I grasp it with all the energy I have.  I miss her, every single morning as I walk past her empty bedroom I smile and I cry in the same breath. 

Day One Hundred Eighty - I begin to understand the dichotomy of grief.  I begin to understand that for the rest of my life her memories will bring the same amount of sting as they do joy. 

Day Two Hundred - waves upon waves, crashing into me, breathtaking, life stopping, waves of loss, waves of anger.  I can not escape the sadness, the loneliness, grief's gravity is a force beyond anything I have ever felt.

Day three hundred sixty five to seven hundred thirty - I couldn't explain it if I tried. 

Day eight hundred - You know that Gloria Estefan song - "Coming out of the Dark" ?  Day eight hundred the cusp of year three, the waves ease in intensity.  I begin to understand and honor grief's purpose.  The missing is never easy but coping with it becomes manageable.

One Hundred Days between eight hundred and nine hundred - faith, o' me of little faith.  The comfort I had once ran to I now hide from.  It's no longer comfort but more pain more confusion.  To be transparent in this area is difficult.  No one really wants to believe that through tragedy, faith, could not withstand.

Day nine hundred fifty one - I am living, and loving even through the disappointments.  Longing for a rainbow baby, receiving that gift to only have it stripped away, I am still living, not just living but enjoying this life.  Missing her deeply every singly day.

Day one thousand fifteen - A wave of grief, not taking me under just a reminder of how deeply I love her and how deeply I miss her. 

One thousand and fifteen days.