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.

Life Continues

So many times, I've thought about sitting down to blog and I just haven't.  Mainly, I get to that point where I don't feel like anyone wants to hear me 'cry' about my hurting heart.  The pain that often rears its ugly head and reminds me that it's in fact, still there.  Yeah...I haven't wanted to share that.

In the last couple of months, so many things have changed.  We visited a friend and her family in a town a little over an hour away from us during Christmas break.  We really liked the feel of it.  We liked the endless possibilities that were available.  Jokingly, Jay said to me, "Hey!  We should move there."  I think he expected me to say, "NO!  Absolutely NOT!"  Instead, I really thought about it. 

In January, we started making serious efforts to move.  By February 13th, we were signing a lease for our new home.  Since then, we have moved.  We have enrolled the girls in a new school.  We have tilled our garden space and planted flowers.  We have explored the area and love all that there is to offer here.  Oh and one of the best parts of our new home?  We have a sun room or as they say here in Arizona...an 'Arizona Room'. 

Since the end of February, I was preparing myself for Cora's birthday.  I knew it was coming.  I had other friends registering their kiddos for kindergarten.  And in my down time, I cried.  A lot.  I really wasn't ready for her birthday.  Let's be honest...I still want her here.  I miss her like crazy.  Knowing how difficult it was going to be, I ordered her a cake with butterflies on it.  I found a butterfly 'Happy Birthday' banner at Dollar Tree along with some spiral butterfly decorations.  I was ready and yet I wasn't.

We had some dear friends come to help us celebrate.  I usually take a picture of the birthday girl with her cake, as I do with all of the girls, but instead, had the 4 kids stand with the cake.  Then, I lit the candles and we sang to Cora.  The kids blew out the candles together.  After the dishes were done and the girls tucked into bed, I headed to bed myself.  In my sweet slumber, Cora came to me.  She was running and playing.  She called out to me.  It was her voice...100%.  Oh how I have missed it.  She said, "Momma!  Look at me!  Look at me!"  Her eyes danced.  She smiled.  Her hair shimmered in the sunshine.  And she was my kid.  Healthy and whole.

Cora would have been 5.  She would be going to kindergarten this fall.  And, I feel a bit robbed.  I endured 9 months of hyperemesis, including a PICC line to have that sweet baby.  I changed countless diapers and potty trained her.  I snuggled her, made boo-boos better, and took her to the doctor when she was sick.

And yet, my home is short one sweet voice.  I'm short my snuggle buddy.  Life doesn't seem right without her. 

But...it's almost been a year.  Will life ever seem right without her?

Monday Morning Revelations

This weekend, I hit a bit of a wall.  I am the queen quite gifted at hiding things.  As a matter of fact, I guess I am stronger than I often think because of this.  So, I continue on with life, thinking that I can handle any and everything...holding it all together, all by myself.  When I say "handle any and everything" I truly mean all. of. it. Finances (bills, food, etc.), feelings, grief, home life, children, cleaning, laundry, work, social life (whatever that is), friends...all. of. it. 

Here's the thing...when things life becomes overwhelming and I see that I can't "handle any and everything", I begin to shut down.  What does that mean exactly?  It is essentially the "I don't care" mode.  My children aren't listening to me?  Eh...okay.  Life is happening?  Hide in my room.

I don't want to deal with any of it.  I don't want to deal with life.  And, it becomes easier to hide my head in the sand and pretend that none of it exists.

The problem with that?  It does exist.  The sun still comes up in the morning and it still sets in the evening regardless of whether or not I can see it due to the clouds of life that cover it.  I can close my eyes and sleep until morning, but life will still be there.

The hardest part of being in this mode is that I begin getting flooded with thoughts that really aren't true.  "I'm a terrible mother.  The girls would be happier if..."  "I'm not really loved.  He'd be happier if..." 

And that's the other part of this "handle any and everything"...the happiness of others.  I'm holding all of this together...I'm making it work, but wait!  Everyone doesn't seem to be happy.  The heck with it! 

Somewhere in all of it...I let myself get lost.  I'm drowning in life and I'm gasping for air.

And for the first time ever, I have someone who helped me see that.  Someone who let me talk it out, let me get those thoughts out and really figure out what was at the heart of the problem.

Why am I writing about it?  Well, because I think we all get this way sometimes.  We just don't know where to begin or have just the right person to pull it out of us.

Repeating Memory

Yesterday marked Cora's 8 month angelversary.  It doesn't seem at all possible.  Eight months.  Eight months missing a whole host of things.  If you're friends with me on facebook, you know that I found her shoes in the bucket next to the door.  They got put back in the bucket, but I got to thinking...would her feet be bigger by now?  Would she be taller?  Would her hair be longer?  Would it be lighter or darker?

I measured the older kids on the door like we have done countless times before.  I had to keep myself from looking for Cora's last mark on the door.  The other day, I caught myself looking to see where Cora was in the back of the house because I swore that I'd heard her.  What would her personality be like right now?  Would she be writing her name?  Tying her shoes?  Zipping her jacket?

Out of all these wonderings, I keep thinking back to that morning when she passed...begging the doctor that there had to be something that could be done...something to save my baby's life.  And I know as I laid there with my hand on her chest, feeling her precious heart beat beneath it, that with the words, "Go to Jesus" coming out of my mouth...my head was screaming NOOOOOO!  Come back to me Cora...COME. BACK. TO. ME!!!  I need you!  Oh sweet child...I need you.

I'm sure God knew my heart.  I wonder if Mary, Jesus' mother, had those same thoughts.

Today...I got hugged by the superintendent today.  She told me that she had been thinking about and praying for me.  All I can say is...only in a small town.

Also...the outpouring of support that we've received from our small town and from friends across the world, has been by far overwhelming.  I tried to submit a letter to the editor in the newspaper to thank the people here, but I've not seen it printed.  I will forever be grateful.

I continue to hold my breath, waiting to see what the next day will hold, but for now, I'm doing the very best that I can.  Some days getting out of bed and ready for work is a real accomplishment.

For now, I am focusing on birthdays.  One this Saturday and one the following Saturday.  Baby steps as usual.  One step in front of the other.  That gives me progress.

Being A Mom

When I first found out I was going to become a mom for the first time, I was shocked and scared.

I had done some babysitting off and on, but mainly with older children.  I did babysit for a family who used cloth diapers and that was a fun experience trying to get the pin in without poking the poor kiddo.  Then when I stood him up...yeah...the diaper didn't stay on.

The whole baby thing?  It was completely foreign to me.  Diapers, clothing a docile squirming baby, feeding a baby...I was going to be flying by the seat of my pants!  There was *and is* no 'owners manual' for babies.

You can plan for baby until you're blue *or pink* in the face, but life tends to throw curve balls at you left and right.

I'm going to have my baby the 'right' way and I'm totally having an epidural.

Nope!  Guess again!  Your baby is breech and you'll be having a c-section. 

I'm going to nurse my baby.  This breast feeding thing is a piece of cake, right?

Nope!  Guess again!  Here's a bottle for your baby.

I think when you get used to things not following your 'plan', you start to just let go a little.  Or at least, I did.  I let my kid get dirty.  I wasn't overly protective.

A few years passed and it was time to potty train.  Yet another fun adventure in the life of a mom.  You can get advice from other people, but often...you just wing it.  And somewhere in the process, you end up being pregnant with baby #2.

By the time you have baby #2, you feel very much like a pro.  You've been there and done that already.  You know what to expect.  For me, I knew that another c-section was on my horizon.  I was going to give breast feeding another go.  I was prepared this time!

Some things seem easier with baby #2.  Potty training?  Far easier with #2 than with #1.

Then at some point, you decide to have #3.  While you were sick with #2...you're beyond sick with #3.  Doctor visits, hospital stays, home hydration...OH MY!  I already knew a c-section was again in the wings.  Again...old hat.  I pulled out the punches and went cloth diapers with #3.  We tried breast feeding again and well...it wasn't meant to be.

Along the way, you tweak things.  You try things and when it doesn't work...you try something else.  You use mom-tuition.  You care for your babies.  You'd do just about anything for them.  You read to them, you sing to them, you teach them to recognize their name, recognize their colors, count, pick up, help around the house, and nurture them in every way.

Cora.  She loved to help her momma.  She liked to dump the laundry soap in the washing machine.  She like to push the drawer in on the washing machine.  She liked to push the start button on the washing machine.  She wanted to take the lint fluffy from the dryer to the trash.  She put the wet clothes into the dryer.  She pressed the start button on the dryer. She tried to fold clothes.  She put her own clothes away.

By the time you've had #3, you have been outnumbered for several years.  Life seems to just carry on.  You feed them nutritious meals, wash their clothes, take them outside to play...you know...all of those 'typical' life things for children.

And just by doing what you feel is right for your children, people say that you're a good mom.  As a part of being a 'good mom', you also think that you have somehow ruined them for life.

Then when life hands you a round that is far from expected, you lose all sense of self.  You question everything about who you are and how you are raising your children.  You question your very core.  And yet, life moves on.  Your children continue to grow.  You continue to get up every day only to muddle through new experiences with your older children...wishing that they might revert back to being less mouthy and more like the angels sweet girls they were at the tender age of 4.  They still have their sweet moments, but they've become more grumpy too.  I guess that too, is part of growing up.

When all is said and done...you pick up the pieces and learn how to glue them back together.  Sometimes there is a piece missing and you learn how to pull the other pieces closer and use a bit more glue.

As a mom, that's what we are called to do.