Grateful

Remember when I mentioned some days are good and some days are bad? Well, sometimes a bad day can start simply by me hearing or seeing something that just sets me off. I may not even realize what happened until the next day and sometimes not at all. Not to say that I can blame all my issues on everyone else. It's not your fault. You didn't do anything wrong. But you may have unintentionally sent me into a spiral of self pity, anger or sadness.

All I want is for everyone to walk on egg shells around me, is that so much to ask? LOL. No,really, in all seriousness, I do need a certain level of sensitivity right now. I have a broken heart, and it's tender, very tender. Just as you would handle someone with a broken bone with care, I need gentleness. This will take a little forethought, as most of the 'harsh handling' comes from things easily avoided.

There are some things I just can't handle right now. Complaining is a big one. Especially if you are pregnant. If that seems offensive, stop for a minute and think about it. Surely, you can understand why I'm just short of intolerant of this. It hurts. It sounds ungrateful. And it's not fair.

To hear someone complain about something so precious, something I have desired for years, and continue to desire, is incredibly painful. It's like a slap in the face. I'm not saying it's right, or that you aren't physically miserable, I'm just telling you how it feels to me.

When I was pregnant with my oldest son, we lived in Florida. I was sick, and I complained about it constantly. I had no idea that this 'all day morning sickness' would be so bad. A friend of ours, Matthew Tippins put me right in my place. He told me, very sweetly I might add, that I was complaining about something that many women would cut off their own right arm to have. He reminded me that I should be more grateful. He was right.

That short conversation made all the difference to me, and still does. I'm not saying I don't ever complain, or didn't ever gripe about being pregnant ever again. But I can tell you, it cut down my complaining a lot...and with nearly every complaint uttered since then, I am reminded that I have so much to be grateful for. Even now, as I sit here and write this, I am reminded that I DOhave much to be grateful for. And I am grateful. But I still miss my daughter, and I still have bad days, and still need gentleness.

It's amazing how something so brief, from over 13 years ago, can have such a profound effect on me today. God used Matt that day to teach me something. Matt will probably roll his eyes at that thought, as he isn't a believer. He probably just wanted me to quit bitching. But that doesn't matter, believe it or not, he still 'got used'.

Really, we can take what Matt said and apply it to everything. Everyone has something thatsomeone else wants. And everyone has something that can cause them pain when someone else is complaining out it. Some people gripe about their mother in-law while the gal nearby might miss her mother in-law because she died of cancer years before. This lady might complain about her husband working too late when that lady is praying for their husband to find a job, any job, so that they might not lose their house. One might spout off about their car not getting good gas mileage while another is just wishing they had a car that ran. I realize that these are real complaints, real life things that are bothering people. But before you let it pass your lips, think about those around you. Who might you hurt just by tossing out a little complaint? Does it sound ungrateful? And quit complaining about the heat, everyone knows it's hot!

This is for me right now too. What have I said that might have stabbed someone else right in the heart? I'm so torn up about losing my daughter, who I only got to hold for 6 ½ hours, perhaps I have hurt someone that didn't get to hold their daughter at all. And I'm so worried about not being able to conceive again that I may seem ungrateful for the children that I have been able to bare, which could be hurtful to the woman who has never been able to have any children. It's certainly is not my intent, and it's not yours to hurt myself or others, but it still happens, it still hurts.

Losing Ila hurts in so many ways, more than I can describe to you. It has also taught me many things, as well. Some things I never wanted to learn. And some things about gratefulness and gratitude. Some days I am grateful for everything, and some days I don't feel nice enough to be grateful about anything. Yet, every prayer of mine begins with 'thank you'.

Messy

Today I just want to scream. I want to kick my feet, punch holes in walls and whack softballs so far into the east field that they can't be seen (and yes, I can do that ). I'm sad and mad and anxious and mean and impatient and ugly.

I know some are thinking “Wow, Bobbi is really having a hard time with this.” Well, no shit moron! My kid is DEAD, of course I'm having a hard time with this. Give me a break already, it's only been two months. I get out of bed every morning and I'm not thinking about driving off bridges so I think I'm okay. I'm allowed to be a mess. And I am one!

I think that some of you are shocked at the way I feel or how 'bad' I'm doing, but the truth is, how are you suppose to know how bad or good I'm 'suppose' to be doing or how I should be feeling? You don't. You can't. Unless your kid is dead. And then of course, you know I'm doing just as you would expect me too. I'm sure that some of the things you hear (or see) me say are shocking, or at least a bit surprising. I realize that most people don't throw all of the junk out for everyone to see like I have been. Some people are naturally quiet (I'm not), some naturally keep to themselves (I don't) and some just don't want everyone to see them vulnerable.

Because of this, this normal human behavior, the people that haven't dealt with this directly don't really have an accurate view of what this looks like. It sucks, that's what it looks like. Every day is different and I don't always know what to expect. Some days are fine, other days are reallllly hard. Some days just plain suck. Sometimes I'm on the edge of tears, and other times I am genuinely happy. None of this makes me crazy, none of this is me not dealing well with this. This is what it looks like. This is my life right now.

It's been suggested by a few that I see a counselor. I can take that two ways...one...people think I'm crazy....two...people love me and want to see me through this. I'm gonna go with the 'I'm loved' version. And I do feel loved, but I don't want to see a counselor. I don't want to cry to strangers. I'd rather talk to my friends and relate to the few I know that have lost a child. If you are uncomfortable with this, with me right now, then simply don't reply when I call/text/chat/email if you are afraid I might emotionally vomit in your lap. I don't think that will be a real problem, because I have figured out a majority of who is and who isn't comfortable around me or talking to me about specific things. That doesn't mean I don't love the rest of you, it just means I am leaning on those I know I can lean on right now.

Talking with other gals that are a part of this stupid club, I know I'm okay. Well, not okay...in the words of my dear friend Lydia “I'll never be okay with this”. But okay as in 'within normal parameters' for this situation. It sucks folks, it just plain sucks. It's ugly. It's where I am today.

I realize that I'm hard to please right now, and that might be very frustrating to my friends and family. Some days I want to get out of the house, other days I want to stay home. Sometimes I want to talk, other times I don't answer the phone. One day I will be mad about something thoughtless someone said, the next day I will have grace for their ignorance. Some days I want to be surrounded by people, and other days I want to be alone. Some days I cry out to my God, other days I don't. This is what it looks like. This is my life right now.

Anxiety

Anxiety. That's the word of the week around here. Well, around me anyway. Yesterday marked 2 months since I held my girl. Two months, and the pain is still fresh. I would say this week was better than a couple weeks ago when I spent the days sobbing. But the better I mean is really better for others. I still hurt. I still hurt a lot. I'm still crying a lot. Some days quite a bit and some days a few tears. Tears aren't exactly how I would measure my level of well being. Right now I am battling my anxiety.

Sometimes I still don't want Stephen to go to sleep before me. Some days I still meet him for lunch just to be around him. I worry that the guys he works with will get tired of having me butt in, but I just need him right now. Sometimes I get this feeling in the pit of my stomach, then a tightness in my chest and my head feels like it might actually just pop right off. Anxiety. I know. Just toss back a Xanax and everything will be fine right? Or postponed..until the band-aid wears off. It comes and goes, it's not unbearable, but uncomfortable.

I never know what might send me into a fit of tears or a frustrated mess. My kids help. A lot. My oldest always has such perfect things to say when I need to hear them most. Well, they all do, but he's all grownupish. Sometimes they have no idea they just sent my maddness out the window.

The clutter in my house is getting to me in a big way. We always have clutter...I'm a terrible house keeper. But lately, not having just one room that is in order, has been driving me crazy....like get up and clean at 1am crazy. I have neglected everything for 2 months and now it's time to tackle it. I might be cleaning off the counter, find a card that someone sent and start crying. I might clean of a desk and NOT find a paper I need and get super angry. I just feel mean. I haven't been meeting friends for things because I just sit there and look like Polly Pissy Pants. I'm not good at putting on a happy face for the sake of everyone else.

Yesterday Daniel crawled up in my lap and started talking to me about Ila. He had a lot of questions and wanted to see her pictures again. He got a little sad and said “I almost makin tears Mom.” And when I did make tears he said “It's okay to cry, I think I gonna cry a little too”. Danny, who wanted a boy baby last time, told me he is ready for a baby sister and it's gonna take a long time again. For the little guys, our pregnancy with Ila was an eternity!! It's so hard to watch them hurt. I can't fix it for them. They lost someone too. And it doesn't matter that they never played with her or heard her cry. They loved her already and were her valiant protectors!

Harder

When my mom called to tell me that my dad had passed away, I wasn't shocked. I was sad, but not surprised. I don't even remember a lot of tears right away. It was more like, okay, lets get through the funeral. When I was told that my brother was gone, I was in shock. It was like I was standing outside myself listening to the conversation happening. I nearly hit the floor. Literally, my husband had to catch me and lower me to the ground. It was like compounding grief, we hadn't even gotten to the meat of mourning my dad and here we were at it again.

The next week was just stupid. The crappiest Deja Vu ever. Picking out plots, looking at urns, writing the obituary. We were all such a mess. I never imagined that I would go through anything harder than that. Boy was I wrong.

As much as we hate to admit it, we expect that our parents will die before us. And siblings, well, somebody has to go first. But no one ever imagines that one of their kids could go before them. Parents aren't suppose to outlive their children. Period. Yet, the worlds first set of parents did that very thing, just as myself and many others are doing it now. And it REALLY sucks. It's just not fair.

When I first realized how much more I hurt over losing Ila, than I did my dad or brother, I was puzzled and felt a little guilty. How could I hurt so much more over losing someone that I never met outside my body than these two amazing men I loved my entire life? A parent's love for our children is so immense, so limitless, that nothing can compare to it.

The pain that comes with this, is at times, almost unbearable. Right up to the edge of just wanting to die! My heart is broken and nothing anyone can say or do will fix it. I know it will never be totally mended and I will never be the same. I know it will get easier and life will go on. But while I'm here, on this side of that promise, it hurts. Really bad. I realize now that's it's not how long you love someone, it's how deeply you love them.

It's Mean & Ugly

I'm pissy today. Pissy about nothing, pissy about everything. Nothing set me off, nothing happened to start my bad mood today. It's just here. I'm not mad, I'm not sad, I'm just ugh. Ugh.

Laying down wishing for a nap this afternoon, I looked out the window, only for my view to be blocked by a big shelf decoration that says FAITH. Well it just made me pissy to. Faith in what? "SHOCK, GASP! Did she just say that?" Yep, she did. Faith that my kids will be safe? No. Faith that I will always have a home? No. Faith that we will all have our health? No. Faith that everything will be alright? Absolutely not.

Sure doesn't seem like faith guarantees any of those things. "But Bobbi, the bible says 'ask and it shall be given to you'"! And I have to respond "Well, go ahead. Ask, and it might not." Even Jesus was denied a request. It comes down to God's will. And often times, His will, isn't what we want. Often times, it just plain sucks. Yep, I just said that God's will sucks. Did you gasp again? Was it because I put into words something that everyone has thought and not expressed, or because your life is so perfect and God's will for you has always been a smooth and wonderful road without bumps, roadblocks or discomforts?

The faith I have, faith in God, is all I have. But it doesn't make life easy. It doesn't make me feel safe from the darkness of this world. In fact, it puts a big fat target right on your back. One that is unmistakable to the enemy. He makes life hard. He says mean things. “Well, Bobbi, you are just letting Satan steal your joy.” Whatever. I have no joy to be stolen at this very moment. I can't get back what is causing my pain, therefore, the joy that I”m missing at this moment isn't because it's currently being stolen. Go ahead, next time something terrible happens in your life, just rebuke, just pray, just have faith and I'm sure the whole situation will look like as beautiful as a field of wildflowers in no time.

I'm sure I sound bitter, angry, and mean. Maybe I'm all of those. So what. It's how I feel. You think less of me because of it? Does it make it any different that I said it out loud when God already knows what's being said in my heart? I know I'm being molded, reshaped, worked over through this and hopefully I come out better for it on the other side. So what. Still sucks. I still love my Jesus. He knows I'm not down with this, not happy about this at all. but I know He can take it and I know He loves me too.