Gratitude during Grief

Thanksgiving is tomorrow, and I’ll admit that this season I haven’t felt much of anything to be grateful for. I am quite consumed with my grief of losing Kendall. BUT acknowledging the goodness and the blessings in one’s life is vital, I think, for mental and spiritual health and happiness, so I’m going to take a minute and list a few of the things I am grateful for: (And seriously these are not in any particular order because if semicolons were the #1 thing I was grateful for in my entire life, I would be really, really nerdy and more mentally invalid than I even am now.)

1. Semicolons. I’m not even kidding. They are far too underused. When I see someone use a semicolon correctly, it makes me heart them that much more! Good grammar makes me almost as happy as buying some really awesome shoes at Nordy’s or looking at Jillian’s hot eyebrows.
2. Diet [Coke/Dr Pepper/Pepsi]. Because it makes my life that much more enjoyable, you know, without me, like, breaking The Plan and doing something that might send me to hell or whatever.
3. My husband. I didn’t believe in soul-mates until I met him. But our souls do some major clickage and I know I’d be some crazy homeless lady with straw wrappers in her hair and Now and Laters in her threadbare coat pocket wandering around downtown SLC not eating if he wasn’t around. I am the pea to his pod, he is the salt to my pepper, he is the peanut butter to my jelly (only really, I’d like creamy instead of crunchy, and really I prefer jam. Oh and Boysenberry if you have it.) We mesh (and mash, hee hee) really well together. I love you, My Man.
4. Cade. Now that I have lost Kendall, I’ve realized how fragile life can be, and I treasure my remaining child that much more – because I realize he is a gift from God and I don’t want to EVER take that for granted again. So I hug C more, I kiss him and tickle him and just marvel at his long eyelashes and dimple on his left cheek just a little more than before. He’s starting to get really irritated with me, and on more than one occasion has said, “Mommy STOP KISSIN’ ME!” But I can’t. And I won’t. I’m so happy this little dude was expelled from my uterus and is mine for all of time and eternity.
5. Kendall. She is my daughter. And I love her. And I can’t wait to be with her again.
6. My sisters and mom. The day Kendall died; I told my mom I didn’t want any visitors, because I wasn’t ready for them. Well they all showed up that night anyway, with gifts and hugs and tears and love, insisting to me that they weren’t VISITORS, but rather SISTERS. There really is a difference, I learned. ;) And I love all of them for their quirks and idiocies (seriously, sorry, but it's true ;) and I love the bond we have that is stronger almost than anything else in the world. I love their kids and their style and the way they’ll tell me that my skinny jeans are ugly, and how I am so brave to wear them, but really I know they’re only jealous because they don’t dare to wear them! I love all of you. Every one of you. And I am talking about sisters-in-law, too.
7. And I’m grateful for all of YOU. I would say that I don’t know, nor have I ever met, about 95% of the people who read my blog. And the support and the emails and texts and Facebook messages and love and prayers I’ve gotten from you, (friends and acquaintances included) especially now with Kendall’s death, has been staggering. I have SO MANY of you tell me how strong I am, how much you admire me, and I only shake my head and think, “Whaaa--? Why would they think I am strong?” Half the time I am complaining to you about one thing or another in my life. And I will admit to you, my fun little friends and readers, that I didn’t have much faith in this world. Because there are people who are ugly to the core, and who mean you harm, and relish in others’ pain, and the world seemed dark and hopeless and ominous. But you, readers, are giving me trust in this world again. A belief that life can be good, that strangers can love and pray and have a camaraderie with a perfect stranger without any ill intent. You bring me hope that there is more good than bad in this world. And that is a precious gift. And I thank you.

I wish you all a wonderful Thanksgiving full of hope and joy and gratitude and family.
[And you all better actually eat, dammit. ;) ]

Me Now vs. Me Before

I’m never going to complain about my burgeoning belly again. I can’t wait to get it back and kiss it and hug it and LOVE it for its immensity and beauty and what it is carrying! It’s only in hindsight that you realize what you had, and what you now miss. It is indeed truesies that HINDSIGHT IS 20/20 and damn I hate clichés, but mostly because they’re true, and usually because they come back to kick me in the arse.

NOW vs. BEFORE

Sigh.

FREEdom in Writing

I bought this journal - for me and for Kendall. And in it I am writing letters to Kendall. Sometimes I write one a day, sometimes five, and sometimes, well, I’m not in the mood to write anything.

Everything about it appealed to me: the burnt oranges and yellows and warm colors on the cover, and especially, especially, the birds. I’d like to think that a mama bird is extending a branch to her baby bird. She is extending unconditional love and nurturance to her baby. She is showing her she loves her and will always take care of her.

...And the FREE, oh wow. It could mean so many things: that Kendall is free from a life she may have had to live in suffering, or that I am on my way to freeing myself from some of this grief, or even my eating disorder.

Last night I told her that I wished she could have watched Glee with me on my tivo, because it would have made her laugh, just like her mama. And I tell her always that if she had lived, and if I had had the opportunity to raise her from infancy to childhood, and finally, to womanhood, I would have wanted her to know above all else that many things in her life would have changed; she would certainly have gone through pain and hardship, but her worth and her beauty and goodness would never have changed. I wanted her to know that life can hurt and be bad but that she doesn’t have to be reduced by it. I tell her every day, in every letter, that she is good and that she is my daughter and I love her. And then I sign it
xoxo, Mommy.

And I feel really peaceful after I write these letters.

Because I know she is getting them.

A Twi-fession

I have a confession. I am NOT a Twi-hard, but I have already seen New Moon twice.

And I plan on seeing it again on Wednesday night with all of my sisters and a couple of my brothers. Mostly because I love to sit next to my brother, T, and cackle as he repeatedly asks me when Bella and Edward are going to "bang."

But if anyone asks? I'm Team Jacob. Edward and his weasly, white, pasty little bod can go elsewhere. I'd like to wash my face on Jake's washboard stomach, now.

That is all.

And if you are upset I don't like Edward? You can go imprint yourself.
I'm so funny! Ahahaha I can't stop laughing at, my, like cleverosity.

Still at birth, but still with me forever.

Physically, I am beginning to feel better. I haven’t passed out in three days (Gooooo Brie, go-go-go Brie!) and I can actually get around a grocery store without a wheelchair. I am not taking this for granted.

However, now that I am not so preoccupied with actually physically maintaining LIFE, my body and mind have once again been focused on mourning baby Kendall. Did you know that I was far enough along that losing Kendall was not considered a miscarriage, but a stillbirth? Did you know that mourning a daughter I never got to hold in my arms or murmur lullabies to still hurts as much as if I’d known her and loved her and had the amazing opportunity to meet her?

My milk came in on Friday. It was the oddest feeling…for my body to be producing life and nourishment for a child I’ll never be able to give that to in this life. The pain of making this milk is a LITERAL reminder of losing her. My body is not yet ready, I think, to forget that I had a child, that I made a beautiful baby girl. And I’m not ready to forget, either. I never will be. She deserves to be remembered and respected for the love and the joy she gave me – even for the short time she was with me.

Did you know that being back at work today sucks? I can’t fall apart here; at work I am strong and confident and professional and not sad and not insecure and especially not “crazy.” I know people care but when people ask how I am, what the hell am I supposed to say? I’m fine? Well, I’M NOT. So I just smile a little and say “I’m feeling a bit better.” That, I think, is not a lie.

‘Cuz I will be okay. But boy I miss Kendall kicking and squirming inside me. I really miss that a lot.

Stayin' Classy

Oh, you know, just out and about procuring the necessities: Boost and MAXI PADS.

Thanks to Whit, who is an ABSOLUTE GEM for insisting on taking this picture of me in my wheelchair - clearly at one of my finest moments. Dignity is overrated, anyway. (sniff)

This is all quite reminiscent of this, yes?

11th Floor, Surgical Trauma Wing

Yesterday morning I went in to the hospital for a D&E to get Baby Kendall out of me. It was supposed to be a fairly simple, out-patient surgery. The surgery itself went well, I am told. My body post-op, however; did not do as well. [This note was attached to a bouquet for flowers Hubs brought me. It's blurry but it says
You are strong.
You make me proud.
You comfort your son.
I am proud to be Your Man.
Always remember those little secrets. They are obvious to the rest of us.]

It hates me. My body, I mean. But I don’t blame it. I’ve put it through enough. I guess I deserve it?

I bled far too much, lost way too much blood; more than is okay and normal and expected in this type of situation. This caused my kidneys to stop working which caused me to not be able to pee which caused the EIGHTEEN (yes friends, I kid you not) bags of electrolyte fluids they were pumping in me to not come out…which consequently led to a catheter, which is when the little dignity I clung to flew out the window and jumped to its death eleven floors below. It caused my blood pressure to plummet and my heart-rate to sky rocket. It caused numbness and tingling and unconsciousness. It caused me to wear these odd little contraptions on my legs to prevent clots from forming. It caused Edema and the palest pastiest WHITEST skin you've ever seen. I was lookin' HOT last night.

BLOOD IS GOOD OMG SO GOOD. I TOTALLY GET Edward Cullen now, I really do. Once the blood transfusions started, I began to feel mucho x2 muchos better!!

I was discharged from the hospital providing I do the following 5 things:
1. Eat
2. Drink
3. Pee without a catheter
4. Breathe without the extra O₂
5. Stand up and walk without help and without passing out.

I'd say 1 and 5 were hardest. But I did it. :) Seriously guys, I'm so strong, you'd totally want me on your side in a bar fight. ;)

So this is kinda like a new rock bottom, for me. Even though I have been eating great and following a mealplan, it doesn’t mean that my body is happy happy put together all over again; forgive and forget. I’ve caused long-term damage that I may have to deal with for a long time to come. :(

So I’m back home, very glad to be with sweet, grumpy, mischievous, bossy Lil C, and My Man. Back to grieving. Back to healing. And most especially back to sleeping in my own bed with my two fluffy pussy cats. Oh and haha Husband too. :)

Many thanks to family and friends and strangers alike who have gathered round and comforted me during this difficult time. You are truly buoying me and keeping me going.
xoxo