I start thinking about my blog and things I want to say when I'm lying in bed. The problem is, if I don't get up and write down the ideas then I lose them. Almost anytime I start thinking about her while I'm in my bed, that day just comes back in total focus. I know my head rests is where she took her last breaths. Some days its almost comforting and some days its torture. Your push your own face into that mattress and just breathe and breathe and breathe and wish that everything would just stop, life would stop. I can breathe for a long time with my face smushed into the bed, why couldn't she?
Some times I know when I'm going to lose it and I can feel like I'm going to hyperventilate and I'm trying to be quiet because Michael is asleep next to me. This is when I pray, this is when I ask for strength, this is when I try to let Gods love embrace me. Anyone who knows me, knows this isn't something I talk about but lately it feels lighter when I do. Like someone just rips away the darkness long enough so I can close my eyes and sleep without the tears and the sorrow and the anxiousness. I am still so angry though, this is a small concession right now. I wish It didn't hurt so much. I wish I could find strength in God everyday like so many others around me. I wish I didn't have to depend on others, to hear their words telling me how strong I am.
When you lose a child, you know in your brain that grief is grief, loss is loss, pain is pain. Your brain knows this, but your heart tells you that no one else in this world knows what you are going through. Even if they had a child die, their pain is nowhere near yours. You think things like your baby never even took a breath, you knew your child was going to die and could prepare yourself, a car accident is completely different, your child was older than mine, your child was younger than mine. My child took a nap, like so many others. She went to sleep and never awoke. Nothing compares and yet.... Loss is loss, and when you lose a child it doesn't matter if they never took a breath, its a part of you that is gone. Its a spark of life that beat inside of you that beats no more. We put all of our hopes and dreams into our children and when they die, what are you supposed to do? Things like this aren't supposed to happen. These things aren't supposed to happen to good people. I am a good person.
I feel so judgemental now. Everyone is under scrutiny because I just do not understand why my child died. I throw stones at glass houses, I judge you, I judge the way you parent, how your child acts. I hate this feeling, I feel like I am thumbing my nose at everyone. I wouldn't do that, I would do this, I would love my child more than you do. Even things I know I've done and would do again, I see someone else do it and its a raised eyebrow from me. You need a break from your kids, well Id break every bone in my body for another chance to be with mine. Its just on and on and on, you can't help these thoughts. Maybe you can and I'm just an exception but this is my blog so I don't really care. I walk by toddlers in the stores and I'm back to staring at them, most of the time I can't even smile at them, I just stare and if mom notices she pushes them out of my way. Probably assuming that I'm such grouchy lady who doesn't like kids. I thought I was over that but its like being at the beginning and realizing once again I have no child to pull out of the car seat, which would probably be still rear facing because its the safest. There have been many times where I just say "Who cares, who cares if you wear a seat belt, who cares if your kid is to little for a booster, who cares if they are still rear facing, because sometimes they just die. What is the point? Why care?" I struggle with that daily but rear facing is a little thing you can do to keep your kids safe, read about internal decapitation, watch the videos. Their legs will fit. I don't care how big your child is, being harnessed will save their lives. My child is 6 years old and she is still in a harnessed seat and when I see 2 year olds in boosters I want to cry. I struggle every single day, thinking nothing matters but it does, in my heart I know it matters.
I ran my first 5k November 7th. November 7th is my mothers birthday, she died in 2009. The 5k was important to me, it didn't matter that I know I can run a 5k. It was that I signed up for something like that, and I kept my word and did it. More than once I wanted to quit because If I am anything, I am a quitter. I pushed myself and pushed myself and even though I didn't see any weight loss, I realized that I'm still doing things that my much skinnier friends couldn't do. Its a nice feeling to realize wow I do have the potential to really push myself through this. Through the pain and the tears and the pain. I did this. Of course I would be even happier to see weight loss but I will take what i can get. Its an amazing feeling to realize you can push yourself to the brink and know that you won't die, you put one foot in front of the other and tell yourself to just go a little farther. Doesn't always work, there are days I run and can't push myself, I give up more than I push. That's life. That is my life.