Monday, January 12, 2015

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.

Wednesday, January 7, 2015

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.

Wednesday, December 31, 2014

The Journey Into 2015

In just a half hour, we will be stepping into the new year.  I could kick 2014 in the pants and say 'good riddance', but I'm not sure it will work that way.  I also should be sitting here mapping out some goals for 2015, but I'm not doing that either.  I do know that my health needs a swift kick in the pants.  I miss running.  A lot.  Even Jay has asked me recently why I'm not running any more.

So much has changed in our lives this year and as we head into 2015, things will continue to change.  I'm coming up on 20...yes TWENTY years out of high school in 2015.  I have accomplished more than I ever imagined in 20 years.  I've also had some of the worst heartache in 20 years too.

This one thing I know about losing my child...I'd go through just about anything 10 times over if it meant not experiencing the pain of losing her.

In 6 days, it will have been 8 months since Cora left this earth *and my dear sister's birthday*.  In 10 days, I will have an 8 year old.  In 17 days, I will have a 12 year old.  In 2 months and 18 days, I would have had a 5 year old.

In all honesty, I don't want to go into a new year without my Cora.  I don't like spending day after day without her.  I don't want to think about birthdays anymore.  Birthdays just mean that we're all getting older and she's not.  I don't like thinking about another holiday without her.  They have come and gone so quickly that I wish that they could last a bit longer.  Or that I could have a re-do.

I do have some hopes for the new year.  I hope that there is abundant joy, laughter and love.  I hope that there will be new beginnings.  I hope that there is peace in my heart.  I hope for contentment. I hope for forgiveness.  I hope for growth...in who I am and who I want to become.

For those of you that read this, I hope that 2015 brings you all contentment in the little things, joy in the unexpected, and peace through the difficult times.

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.

Thursday, December 18, 2014

All I Want For Christmas

All I want for Christmas,
can't be bought in any store.
All I want for Christmas,
is a wish for something more.

All I want for Christmas,
is to see your beautiful face.
All I want for Christmas,
is for a simple change in pace.

All I want for Christmas,
is to hear your sweet little voice.
All I want for Christmas,
is to have been given a simple choice.

All I want for Christmas,
is just one more minute; one more day.
All I want for Christmas,
is a wish for another way.

All I want for Christmas,
is for mom's to never grieve.
All I want for Christmas,
is to find an ounce; an ounce of reprieve.

All I want for Christmas,
is to send you all of my love.
All I want for Christmas,
is to know you're happy, with Jesus up above.

All I want for Christmas,
can't be bought in any store.
All I want for Christmas,
is for you to know, I love you even more.

©K. Iannello
December 18, 2014

Friday, December 5, 2014

Holes In My Heart

Growing up, I never knew that you could have holes in your heart or even in your soul for that matter.  The first hole that became evident to me was a God-shaped hole.  After going on Western NY Girls' Chrysalis Flight #1, I realized that even though I had been brought up in the church and had become a member of the church, there was something that was missing.  A piece peace that was missing from my life.  Once that peace was in place, the light emanated from within.  I was a subtle Christian for those who needed it and yet, my light was still evident.

At some point, I thought that I had a love shaped hole in my life.  Marriage and children came along.  The love shaped hole began to fill in.

I read a book today at my training about keeping your bucket full.  It was a children's book.  And while 'bucket dipper' seems a bit over the top, there are some people in life who try to dip into your bucket of joy/happiness/love to attempt to fill their own.  You can equate that to so many things.  A love tank, a feelings bank...whatever your heart desires.

At some points in my life, my love tank was being depleted far faster than I could keep it full or have others add to it.  And as of last year, my tank was empty.  There were little bits being added, but it was never completely full.

Slowly, life has increased the love within my tank, but at the same time...there is yet another hole in my life.

It's a Cora shaped hole.  Sometimes, the hole seems so enormous, it feels like there is nothing left of me.  The snuggler she was, her personality, even her body size...just fit me to a T.  She can never be replaced.  And the hole remains.  Even now, the hole is sore and like a wound open for the world to see.  It is sensitive to touch.  It aches. 

And...there is nothing...not one thing that I can do right now to heal it. 

After a mere 7 months...it still seems like yesterday.  I try to close my eyes and imagine running my hand over her hair...smell the scent of her after she got out of the bathtub.  And tonight, I even thought about pulling her clothes out the drawers and just burying myself in them on my bed.  I miss her pajama clad body...the footies padding down the hallway to my bedroom.  Her little voice coming in to tell me that she had helped find Sylvester our elf.

After 37 years in this life, while I have lost some of my dearest family members...those who I certainly miss because they're gone (yep Papa...I surely do!)...there is nothing so far in this life that can compare to losing Coraline.

My Cora shaped hole will forever be.

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Things I Know

I need to be clear with those friends that read my blog.  There are some things I understand and know, but when you're able to explain everything to my heart and have it stick...let me know.

1.  I have undoubtedly been blessed with three beautiful children.  Girls at that.  Each of them a very unique twist of their father and myself.  I have no qualms about just how blessed I am to still have two of my children with me in this life.  And please do not think that I am angry, but a mother who is grieving her child...understands how blessed she is to have other children...if indeed she has other children.

2.  Grieving is unique to each person.  There is one thing I'd like to be clear on.  Please don't compare your grief to anyone else who is experiencing grief.  In this society, we tend to have a convoluted idea of how people should grieve.  There is no right or wrong way.  There is no time limit.  Grief does not need to be hidden.  And again...please don't compare.

3.  Please know that not every day is going to be a stellar day for me.  Some days, it's all I can do to be present in the day.




4.  I don't always want to talk about things.  I just need to be quiet with myself.  Sometimes I withdraw.  Sometimes I put on a great front.  And what I need most?  


Am I saying not to talk to me?  No, but sometimes just knowing someone is there is more powerful than anything that can be said.

And...

5.  *certainly not the last one, but it is for tonight*...Sometimes we go through spontaneous storms.  There are times in this process that we're just going to lose our stuff.  And, I'm finally coming to terms with the fact that it's okay for me to do that from time to time.

 


I have learned a lot in these last nearly 7 months.  I've learned a lot about myself and who I am becoming.  With that said, I still need my time to grieve.  Today, while I know I should be grateful that my baby is in heaven...dang it!!!  I want her HERE!  There is a Cora shaped hole in my life that will never be filled.

Today, it just happened to be an exposed wound..showing the world just how much she is missed.