my momma

When I was in high school, my mom signed me up to volunteer at our local hospital.  As a painfully shy teenager, the thought of caring for strangers was equally dreadful and terrifying.  She told me, in no uncertain terms, to suck it up, because it would be a valuable and memorable experience.  It not only cracked open my shell but sparked my interest in healthcare and helping people.

She knew when it was time to let me go.

A few years ago, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.  She accepted it even before the family fully had, and navigated her journey head-on from surgery to recovery the same way she does everything -- with conviction, fearlessness, and optimism.

She showed me that hope can be stronger than fear.

Late last summer, my husband and I unexpectedly lost our twins at 21 weeks.  My mom was the one who was home with me when my daughter was born, who helped perform CPR on my baby, who rode with me to the hospital, who stayed nearby for the next 3 days before I gave birth to my son.  She was also the one who was there after, to cook for me, to accompany me on walks, to take me out, to help me feel like myself again.  And she was the person to urge me to talk about it, to cry with me, to share my grief, and to pull me out of my sorrow so that I could begin to heal.

That's when I realized that inspiration doesn't always shine through facing life's struggles.  It's about kindness, and empathy, and unconditional love.

So Happy Mother's Day to one exceptional mother -- one who knows when to give me a nudge, who reminds me of my blessings, who embraces me when I need it.

name wars

i can't remember what hubbie and i were talking about this afternoon, but he mentioned a conversation we'd had when we were naming our twins.  when i had been considering the name lucas, he had agreed rather easily.  and then in the next breath he'd suggested, not so subtly, the name leia for our daughter.  it only took me another second to realize why.  and another to nix that idea.

"he had said it like a joke, but not really," i told his mother today, and we all had a big ol' laugh.

"and i thought it would have been perfect -- i mean, they were twins!" my husband added.

it felt nice to be able to smile at the memory.

100 days of happy

a friend of mine shared a happiness challenge that seemed right up my alley.  it involves posting a picture every day of something that makes me happy.  seems easy enough, right?  well then, join me and spread the happy!

http://100happydays.com/

#100daysofhappy

the crazy bunch

(better sung in the brady bunch tune..)

here's the story

of a crazy couple

who lived in the woods with a driveway packed in snow

there was an ice storm

that caused some freezing

and they were all alone

so this morning when the man tried out the driveway

his car was stuck and couldn't move another inch

then he woke his sleeping wife

at 5 o'clock

for her SUV to push him out (which was a cinch)

but when it was time to turn the SUV toward home

it got stuck upon a hill and wouldn't budge

so they backed out

into a ditch

and had to call the tow truck, oh yes, oh fudge

the crazy bunch, the crazy bunch

that's the way we became the crazy bunch..

on the edge

i've been noticing an edge to myself that at times i find difficult to reel in.  the thing about having a child (or two) and then losing them, is that you still have to deal with the after-effects of everything, despite the fact that they're no longer living.

insurance, for example.  i recently received a letter about services rendered for lily and my insurance company requesting more information.  so i called to ask about it.  

"i only see you and your husband under your plan," the attendant said.

"then what do i do?  these services were for my daughter," i replied.

"you didn't enroll your daughter in your plan."

here i could feel the pressure building, but tried to keep my voice calm and even -- i didn't enroll my daughter in our plan because she passed away."  even to my own ears the words had come out alittle snippy, despite my best efforts.

"oh."  she went on to explain, gentler now (or had she backtracked?), what i needed to do.  and then, "i'm sorry."

but after hanging up, i was the one who was feeling sorry.  it hadn't been her fault that she didn't know what had gone on in my life.

perhaps the anger that i thought was nonexistent is starting to show its face.

at least if i know that, then i can fight twice as hard to squelch it.

birthday note

is there anything cooler than one of your favorite authors leaving you a surprise birthday note?

no, i don't think there is.

my own counsel

i had my last counseling session tonight, and in a way it was bittersweet.  before our recent loss, going to a counselor had never been on my radar.  after hearing from my sister that counseling had helped her deal with a difficult time in her life, and through much encouragement from my husband, i decided to give it a try.  i found that by talking things out and sorting through my feelings with someone not directly involved, i was able to learn and understand more about myself which ultimately helped me work through my grief.

 

obviously, it's not over yet, but i do know that it was one of the best things i could have done at the time.  i gave myself an outlet, regularly, and with sharing my experience it allowed me to start the healing process.

 

while wrapping up the session, my counselor asked if i had felt like i was progressing, and in thinking about it i knew that i was.  she confirmed it by saying that she'd seen me allow myself to grieve the loss of our twins and re-engage in my life and move forward.  if i had asked myself 4 months ago if i could ever foresee where i am now, i wouldn't have believed that i'd be able to get through a day without lily and lucas being the predominant and recurring theme or the emptiness inside threatening to overwhelm me.

 

i thanked my counselor for how she helped me, and she in turn said that she really needed to thank me for allowing her to walk this journey with me.

 

i am hopeful again.  and i feel alittle more like myself.  i may not be exactly the same, but who ever is, really?  and that's okay.  i can live with that -- not only because i have to, but because i wouldn't change any of it.  this is the course my life has taken now, and no amount of preparing would have made a difference.

 

the realization that i'm ready to keep moving forward is comforting.  on my way home, the song i was listening to seemed very fitting (with a couple of edits):

 

I thank my sister[s] for keeping my head above the water

When the truth was like swallowing sand

Now every morning, there is no more mourning

Oh, I can finally see myself again...

 

By the grace of God (there was no other way)

I picked myself back up (I knew I had to stay)

I put one foot in front of the other

And I looked in the mirror and decided to stay

Wasn’t gonna let [life] take me out that way

 

--Katy Perry, By the Grace of God

 

so as we gear up to say goodbye to 2013, i'm looking forward to a new year.  after all, i'm still here.