I want you to know how I really feel

I am thankful for the Mac Book my husband got me for Christmas. I am desperate to let emotions go. I am desperate to yell my intimate thoughts on paper... or a computer.. whatever. In our generation it is all basically the same anyways.

I often have emotional mornings. I'll never let anyone know at work, but you see I drive to work. 55 minutes one way. That is a lot of time to think... unless I focus in on the Kid Kraddick morning radio show. But mornings like this morning my mind escapes to my child. A relationship I am struggling to establish how to work out in my mind. I knew her less than 2 hours in person, but I mourn her like someone I had known my whole life. But I reason with that in this manner: She was created 1/2 of me, she was formed and grew in me, so she was and is very much a part of me my whole life. She is indeed a piece of me. So I tell myself as a mother I am allowed to still feel her absence, because when she died I lost a huge part of me... of who I always dreamed of being. My mind on my drive often drifts to my daughter. The sweet tiny baby with my cheeks and a replica of her father's face. I go back to my darkest days. The days I couldn't look at myself in the mirror after she was born because she had my cheeks and I couldn't bear to look at myself anymore because it made me long for the child I held so temporarily. My mind also slips to the night I came home from the hospital when the strong drugs began to wear off and I finally felt the deep gravity of the child I loved so dearly for 26 weeks passing on my chest. Make it no mistake, I am thankful I brought sweet girl into the world and I am thankful if she had to pass on I was holding her. But no body in the world (even those who have been through similar situations) knows what it was like for me to look into our precious God given creation's eyes and then have to face a nurse nodding her head yes that she had passed. All the while trying to remain as strong as possible because I refused for few moments I had with us to be turmoil. I took in her life and the beauty that it was. I prayed for her, sang to her, I loved her with everything in me, and I tried my hardest for her to see my smile despite the tears that ceased flowing. I held my deepest sorrow for when I sat in the recliner days later. I never want to feel that pain again. It's the type of pain the cripples you, that makes you wish you could close your eyes, and just temporarily disappear. Make it clear I never wanted to die and I don't wish to die now, but at that moment I needed an escape from reality. I wished so bad that Neverland was a place. I wished for a magical place that I didn't feel the pain I felt. Then the next day getting texts from my husband of her casket--our kid's casket. Would this be ok he so nervously texted. I was supposed to pick out her outfits every day, not her casket. I am still thankful he picked it out. I am thankful he planned it. I couldn't have. But I am thankful I did write her obituary, my gift of words to her. It's all I had to give her.

The days following the funeral all feel like such an emotional blur of both physical and mental anguish and pain. A blur of healing from a surgery and trying to figure out how to function. I cried. A lot. I beat myself up for not kissing her lips, my greatest regret. But she was so very fragile and seemed comfortable in my arms on my chest. I am thankful I kissed her sweet cheeks, but fresh out of surgery I couldn't bend much and didn't want to harm her. So I just held her and kissed her cheeks. I never once thought "Kiss Ryleigh on the lips while she is here". I just stared into her eyes and kissed her cheeks, sang to her, prayed for her, did the best job I could. But days after she was buried, I mourned not kissing her lips. And I am sure if I would have, I would have another "I wish I would have" done thing. But I have learned to mentally cope because I will kiss those sweet lips one day in heaven. (Please don't judge me, I am so scared someone would think, "Who wouldn't think to kiss her child? I promise I showered her with kisses on her cheeks, but mentally I wasn't stable at the time). Another fear days after the funeral I had was panic attacks over ants getting her. Morbid, I know, but it caused me to have a major meltdown before being explained that the type of casing she was in prevented such. I hated those days. I still hate the memory of those days, but here I am writing them. But I hope writing them will help me heal from my dark days. I never want to lose the memory of her, but I desperately want to be in a place where only the good and happy memories surface.

I want to state I really am doing better, sometimes I think I am having a really bad day, but then I recall I had a lot of worse days.

And I want you to know that when you ask me how I really am doing I'll always say "I'm ok" because I can't talk to people publicly about it. At least not out loud. I can't. It's too much for me to share the deep emotions I still feel. Actually I have learned I like for people to just treat me like Christina, the old version of me. But I do like to hear her name so please don't ever be nervous about speaking of her to me.

I am a new version of me. There is an underlying missing piece of me and I miss the old me, which sound very selfish. But when I say I used to be genuinely happy I was. Now I have moments of genuine happiness tainted with moments of sadness. It's confusing to go from being the 100% happy person to the girl who fights daily to have an emotionally stable happy day. But my goodness I do love my happy moments now. I cherish the times I am laughing with a co-worker, a student, a friend, or a family member. And y'all, my class, my Lord knows my love for them. They keep me busy and I prayed for the perfect class for me this year. God gave me a busy one with a lot of energy this year. And I love it. I don't stop and when I don't stop, I don't have time to wallow in self pity. I am just me again, a teacher who loves her class.

And I am making so many close friends here lately. My friendships that existed have grown stronger, like the bond that we now hold is deeper. Because I saw which friends were really there for us. And I am making so many new friendships... lol and the majority of them are all pregnant. I won't lie I was once nervous about how I would function mentally around pregnant women in the future. I didn't want to become some jealous ole hag... and I am not! That's one thing I can honestly say. If anything, I am thrilled for them because I know the feeling of excitement knowing that there is another precious miracle to love. I think God made a lot of my new friends pregnant for a reason, I think he wants me to still praise Him for life. So I do, and I pray for my pregnant friends all of the time. I can't wait until I am the pregnant one again. (We get to start praying for one in two months, and you best believe the count down is on. And I will be a mom of two before you know it. (One always above).

I can not help but tell you guys I am made to be a mother. I know in my deepest heart that I will be a great one. I consider myself a good one even now. I bear the scar to show that I am a good mom. I will make mistakes just as all parents do, but I will have patience and a love for our children. I will take them on grand adventures, I will read to them, I will bathe them every night in their pajamas, and I promise you they'll be tucked in knowing they are loved. I will rock the raising a kid thing one day and I can't wait to watch our baby or babies grow.

If you read this long, Thank you. I pray you treat me just like you would every day tomorrow or whenever I go public with my post, please act like you didn't read it at all lol. Just so I can feel normal. I hate being pitied (and I know you think I just shouldn't talk about it to avoid being pitied, but I can't stay quiet.) I just want someone to understand me because holding everything in and always pretending to be strong is hard and I need an outlet.. and I swear I don't want your pity. I just want someone to understand how I am ok and I am not ok all at the same time. That sometimes I never know when an emotion will hit. And I want someone to know that somehow I survived the best and worst day of my life and the days that followed.

The Holidays are here

I've seen Christmas trees long before Halloween and I've avoided it like the plague...maybe because I am more of a wait until you eat turkey first girl. But this year... I'm struggling with it all. I'm thankful for the break, trust me, but I can't help but feel sad. The holidays are about family and I can't deny the sense of sadness I feel knowing that this was supposed to be the year my husband and I got to partake in the "Christmas with a child" activities. As always, I feel I was robbed of this. I even came home and cried after the school dance, which I enjoyed at the time. But when I got home mentally I thought about the fathers dancing with their beautiful daughters and I felt sorry for Travis. He got robbed too of moments like that. But I know there is reason why God took her and that He is a God of good. But to say I won't have an emotional Christmas is a lie. I miss you Angel. I wish you were going to see Santa. I love you always, Mommy

July was my October

We should be in the single digits. 9 days until her due date. I should be nesting or resting or doing whatever moms do before birthing their first born. But I'm not because October, which was supposed to be our month to meet, came too soon. July was my Ocotber and while I never question God's whys I do ache for the what might have beens. I'm home sick today, woke up with a headache that felt like I got hit by a Mac truck and a bad cough and my chest hurts. Hoping my over the counter meds that are more expensive than even going to the doctor work. I always feel like the worse teacher when I take off, usually I try to push through, but here lately I just don't feel like my body is up to being pushed to the limit. Sometimes in my mind everything that happened is like a blue that never occurred, like my mind tries to block the loss, but can't. I have no choice but to try to be cheerful and to try to be me, but it's odd because I am not me that I once was at all. I am now Christina, the girl who lost her baby. It's my own fault that I'm known for it, I talk about her all the time. I guess that's the mom in me always wanting to share about her kids too much, but I'm the girl when I speak of my child who gets sympathetic looks. Then I feel guilty for even mentioning it. I don't want attention or sympathy off of my child, but I also can't shut up about it. She became a huge part of who I am, and subconsciously I guess I share for that reason. I never told her birth story, and probably won't share much, but I will share that within a few minutes of her coming out of the womb we learned she would die. It was no surprise, we knew what we were facing. After the NICU team giving a viliant effort our child was placed on my chest where she opened her eyes and looked at me. She wrapped her hands around mine and Trav's hands and I prayed over her loudly giving thanks To God for our creation. I told her how much I loved her and how much we prayed for her and I told her I was so sorry my body had failed her. I said everything I needed to say, and kept it together. I wanted to be brave so she didn't sense our sadness, but I cried, who wouldn't. We don't know the exact time she passed even though they officially announced it a few hours later. She drifted to meet the Lord on my chest. I remember it really hit me coming home from the hospital. The lady pushing my wheel chair said, "Didn't you just have a baby? Where is your baby?" I dropped my head and shared that she was with God. That was the first time I got a sympathetic look from a stranger about my child. I felt terrible for the girl. I still feel terrible when I share my loss to someone, like I just kind of blurt it out, then feel terrible. Getting back on track, the night we came home we slept in the living room. I had to sleep in the recliner due to pain from the csection. We watched Netflix, "Walt before Mickey". I can remember not being able to sleep despite the ambien I was given, and Trav falling asleep. It was in that moment that I felt the tremendous loss. I cried out in anger and recall Trav waking up to comfort me. I woke up several times that night having panick attacks and screaming out in pure turmoil. She was everything I ever wanted from the moment I was a child and she was gone. The next days were even harder, getting texts from Travis who bravely planned her service, I remember when the casket was shared with me nearly losing it. I mean hoenstly I should have been sending him pics of the overly priced high chair I wanted, but here I was getting a little white casket in my messages. It was by far the most challenging week of my life. Fast forwarding to now, I'm mentally stronger every day. But I am anxious, I am anxious as to when we can try again, I am anxious about how my body will hold up after a classical (not typical) csection, I am anxious to lose another one of God's creations in me. I smile all of the time and it's genuine. My class this year will never know how much they are loved by me and how much they are getting me through. I am very capable of real smiles and times that I even feel like the old me. But on days like today, where I stayed home sick (and I legitimately have a cold or bug Bc it's going around my classroom), all I have time to do is think. And I miss our child. I miss Ryleigh. I know I couldn't control a complication at conception, but I do hold the guilt and regret. I pray God gives me a shot to be an earthly mom and give her siblings, but to say I am terrified of the journey would be pure honesty. I trust in God's plans, but know His plan is not always ours. But fear is not trust, so I am trying hard to overcome that.

Did I already know?

I was reading old posts on here and I actually wrote "My heart goes out to any mother who has to experience loss after they've heard their child's heartbeat". What are the odds that I said that, I question was God preparing my heart the whole time? I am never a believer of coincidences. For some updates, I ovulated on my own this month. Smiley face and all without medication. Woo hoo! No clomid needed, that's huge for me. I still cry a lot, but I try to focus on the future to meet John William or Allyson Ann. I'll raise them knowing our family has an angel. I one day want to help women who have faced infant loss, I am not healed enough yet, but it is a goal one day. I love you Ryleigh, and I'll try to make you proud to call me momma until we meet again.

Dear sweetie

Ryleigh: I miss you. I still miss the what would have been too, but I also realize that no matter what my pain won't somehow reverse time and I can't relive any moments. I wish I could have changed things. I would have given anything, even my own life to keep you alive. I didn't cry today, I tried to stay busy to avoid crying. But I still wake thinking of you and I still love you. I listened to your heart beat elephant earlier. The sound of your heart beat is so special to me, I'm thankful sis bought me the elephant. Bedtime for me. I love you sweetie. Please know I am so pleased you are healed and at peace with God. I miss you, but I know you are with our maker. I love you, Mom

Trying to live your old happy lifestyle with a heartache

I ache daily. I function, but the absence of Ryleigh is with me daily. Mostly late at night is when I miss her the most because that's when she'd be my sweet wiggles. I'd give anything to feel that beautiful angel touch me again. Work has been well, I won't lie the first day was difficult because some of my precious babies that I taught wanted to know how my baby was doing (they really were so excited for me) and I'm usually at a loss for words. I mean how do you tell a child your baby didn't make it? I usually just explain God wanted me to just make an angel to watch over us. I did run to my classroom at nap and luckily with them all asleep I could have my quiet cry and rock and roll. The next day was much better and I was just me. I brought sweet girl a flower arrangement and a July birthstone thing to the cemetery yesterday evening. I like being there I can just talk to her. I still just wish I could change things. My dreams and heart are crushed.

Our angel

Some posts are happier than others and some are not. Today my post is pretty positive. We were given a weenie dog and he's a lot of work, but it keeps my mind occupied and he's pretty dang cute so it's worth it. Back to school seems to be going well. Open house was successful in meeting lots of nice people. One student told me "I am so sorry your baby died, I have prayed for you." And I was touched by the love of a child, but it didn't make me cry. She had the saddest look and to cheer her up I explained that God wanted a beautiful angel and that's what she is. I told her she would watch over all of us and that sweet baby smiled so big. My biggest fear was explaining to a child why I wasn't pregnant anymore or them asking to see my baby, and me crying like a crazy woman. But in true me fashion I kept it professional and held it together. Some days I am content and some days I ache. Mainly at night, but I began progesterone again to keep my cycles regulated so I can try again for sibling in the spring. The thought excites and terrifies me all at the same time. I know God will provide. Lots of love. -Christina love you sweet baby girl!