Spot On Pixar

I'm not touting Pixar films, nor do I work for them...earn money from them...etc.  I am simply a mom who took her children to the movies today, on opening day, to see "Inside Out."  And, I also happen to be a mother who has lost a child.

First, I have to say that it is well done.  It really hits home on so many levels, much like some of their other films that they've done in the last several years.

Without giving too much of the movie away, we often only want the joyful days/times in our lives.  They are built up and built up over time.  Those memories are tucked away...stored as joyful times, sad times, fearful times, angry times...and for a time, they don't seem to get muddied.  They are one type of emotion.

At some point or another, life happens...things happen...and well...I lost my child.  All of my happy memories of her have been tinted by sadness...because she's gone!  That joyful memory has forever been changed.

I think that the further out I am from the day of Cora's passing, the easier it will be for the memories to be both a joyful one and a sad one, but often times now, it pains me. 

Yes, I sat in the movie theater and cried a couple of times.  Just for noticing that small truth in memories.  And yes, I would recommend the movie.  It was beautifully done.

It will surely be a memory that you will tuck away yourself.

Finding Me

I have to find a little piece of me, in a corner of every day.  I still don't know who I am or what my purpose is exactly.  I don't like not knowing.

I have always been a very put together type of person.  No one saw the pain I was in for essentially half of my life.  Yes, there were bright spots.  Three of the brightest spots are three beautifully different girls.  And with having children and a household, came a budget to help keep it all running smoothly.

I had meals planned for each night of the week.  I had activities, doctor's appointments, and various other things listed on the calendar.  I had it t-o-g-e-t-h-e-r.

That all came to a screeching halt.  A very abrupt halt.  A startling halt...on May 6th of last year.

Everything that I had held together so nicely for so long, all began to unravel.  The messiness of my life was so evident.  My neat and organized life, was not so neat and organized.

I still can't meal plan.  I fly by the seat of my pants.  Whatever sounds good, is what gets pulled out of the freezer for the night.  Most nights, we're looking at each other going, "What do you want for dinner tonight?"  Ugh.

Budgeting has always sucked, but I hate it a lot more now.  This always seemed a bit on the 'easier' side, but it takes a great deal more effort to figure it out now.

I always thought I knew what I wanted with my life, and now it seems impossible to figure out.  Mundane has been good for the last couple of months, but I yearn for something more.

If I think deeply enough about this...I have to realize that God is really just causing me to hand everything over to Him.  And I just don't want to.  *Insert toddler temper tantrum.*  I need to, but I don't want to.  I'm tired and I don't want to have control over it all.  He's got a better handle on it than I do.  So, why can't I just let go? Stubbornness I suppose.

And yet, day after day, I get up and do it all again...questioning my every move and every decision.  It's not easy, but it sure would be a lot easier if I'd just...






...let go.

I'm Sorry...

...but I'm not sorry.

Please don't get me wrong, I am truly happy for your child being able to...

• ride their bike on just two wheels
• tie their shoes
• write their name
• *insert any number of firsts at the preschool age* 

Maybe I am jealous.

Deflated.

Crushed.

Robbed.

Or maybe I am angry.  I'm not angry at you.  I'm just angry at the unfairness.

In 55 days, she would have been going to kindergarten.

And in some ways, I have been robbed.  I haven't been robbed of material things, but of a life that I had grown and nurtured for over 4 years...nearly 5 years if you go by the time of conception.

Numerous hospitalizations.  Vomiting that seemed to have no end.  All in an effort to keep both me and this precious little girl healthy until it was time to take of her on the outside.

I took care of this little girl, with the best of my ability for 4 years, 1 month and 10 days until I had to hand her over to the care of the professionals.  And even then, I stood by in a supporting role for another 8 days.  All for what???  To have her yanked from my arms...to lose every last first I had hoped to see with her...to cheer her on...to push her to attain....to support her in everything she tried.

So, if you don't know me real well and I say something to the effect of, "Enjoy that last...xyz" it's not because I'm trying to make you feel bad.  It's because I yearn to have that last xyz with my Cora.  Cherish those moments with your babies.  Love them like it's the last day you'll get to spend with them.  Relish in the memories that you get to make with your children this summer instead of wishing it away.

So in all things...I am sorry, but yet...I'm not.