I'm a work in progress

I cannot tell you how many times I've started and stopped a blog post. My insular existence really didn't hit me until I looked through my computer for digital pictures. They almost completely end around December 2013. There were some in July and October but really, I have so little. I quit blogging and quit taking pictures of all of us, especially myself. My last pregnancy was bad the whole way through and it ended so terribly. I haven't been talking to anyone, especially since my mother-in-law died. She was one of my closest friends.

So here I am! I thankfully have been doing some creative things, mainly stitching related. You can see more of that at www.nodakbex.wix.com/DemonMonkeyCraft . I completely re-branded the name and feel of what I do to more adequately reflect the majority themes of my work. I hope you will stop by there and take a peek.

Depression is a cruel thing. Due to eating as a way of coping, and some medications, I'm a good 25 pounds overweight. So I quit taking pics of myself and quit leaving the house. For real, I rarely go out. It's pretty pathetic. So once again, I am hoping to turn the blog into a method of venting so I quit eating. Maybe I can lose some damn weight finally!

But the best news? We're moving. From Kansas to Colorado. I hope the great outdoors will reinvigorate my spirit and my health. I look forward to many nature walks with the kiddo and pups. And some good winter snow! Snowmen, snow forts, snow shoes, hot tubbin' in the cold weather! I look forward to it all!

So that's my grand update for now. I am hanging in there and keeping myself busy with house stuff. Going to list this sucker in a little over a week. Yikes!!

Undone

No more babies. Other than my daughter, my life seems to be shit.

For mom

Until I met you, I did not believe in angels, Fictional seraphs who carry out God's good works. Invisible celestial beings, what nonsense! Proof, I thought, was in all the pain and sorrows I'd seen.

But over time, I began to open my eyes, To the little miracles around me, warming my icy nature. Your incredibly fiery spirit, like a brilliant beam of light in the fog, Leading us from our troubles and sadness to safe harbors. No one could be with you and not feel important, loved and worthy of glorious things; You imbued even the darkest of souls with your radiant spirit.

You were a living angel to us all, Joining us along life's path with your tears, laughter and thoughts, And giving us strength to weather sorrowful storms. And though your body could carry you no longer, Your light still beams brightly throughout the Earth, Reflected in the souls of all who knew you. Transcended from your Earthly form, You are now lifted by God as a true, heavenly angel.

Happy Fucksgiving

Don't get me wrong, I am so thankful this Thanksgiving. I'm thankful for my loving, amazing, hilarious husband, my beautiful miracle daughter, four sweet, fluffy dogs and a supportive network of family and friends. For them I am eternally grateful. I feel so lucky to have them on my side, ever loving, ever ready to help me, and so reliable.

So wtf Bex? Your life is awesome, wtf do you have to upset you? Well, my inner critic, I still want my son.

As I sit here on my first post-loss Thanksgiving, I think to myself all the things in my life which are amazing. I feel such joy and appreciation for these things. It is odd to experiencing so much grief simultaneously. I laugh watching my toddler wreaking havoc upon our house, her laughter and sparkling eyes. But I cannot stop thinking of my son's little body, so cold, in my arms.

As a woman, as a wife, as a mother, how does one go through her grief and still be spirited and enthusiastic to her child and to be lustful and attentive as a wife? It is not easy. I can tell you what every mother of an angel baby will say is true: you never stop thinking about your lost child. I wake up thinking of him and go to sleep with him in my thoughts. I dream of him. I long for him. I remember how he felt in my arms, how soft his skin was and how light he was in mass. I remember kissing him and touching his face over and over to try and imprint it all in my mind because soon he would be taken from me.

Every month I go without another pregnancy, I feel worse. I feel so empty. All the while I am celebrating my amazing daughter. She is so smart, so strong and shows so many traits of her father and I. We laugh every day over something she says or does. It's the best feeling in the world. I could not feel so "ok" with things if not for her. I love looking at photos of her from the last three years because it reminds of me all those magical feelings we had after she was born.

You can't know how it feels unless you've been there. Some days it hurts so much that I want to take a knife to my skin. Not to end my life, but to cause a little pain, just enough to hurt but not to bleed. The pain is that much. He was there and three days later he was gone. A pregnancy rife with personal conflict, hurt emotions and medical issues. Three days. And to think, "if they had taken him early, he'd still be there, " just fucks it up all the more. The fact is, even if they had taken him a week before this happened, when I noticed his movement lessening, he'd still be dead. The damage was done, his destiny foretold weeks or months before. I used to think everything happens for a reason but for the life of me I cannot understand how his death was meant to be. Why? On a day of thanksgiving I find myself struggling not to crumple into a heap of tears.

Lessons from a toddler

I am taking a break from posting about the loss to share my recent experiences with my toddler. We don't just teach our children, but if we are open enough, we also learn from them. Here is what I've learned from my kid while going through the joy of potty training.

The only way to open a bathroom door is by forcing it to slam into the wall behind it. Yes, hinge door stops are on there, but are predictably broken.

One can only use the toilet if all articles of clothing beneath the waist are removed.

Stickers are lame; all toddlers will piss for candy.

At some point, the toddler will pretend to pee and/or poop in order to obtain more candy.

Toddlers are only constipated until wearing cotton underwear and playing outside.

Exuberant praise will be reciprocated! If the toddler discovers mommy on the toilet (i.e., barges into the bathroom) while she is pooping, it is normal to hear a "yay momma!!" in response to the Number 2 activity.

One must contort oneself into a position to peer through her legs to observe urination and/or defecation, regardless of where the stream of urine ends up in the process.

And finally, farts are still, and always will be, funny.

Until next time...tschus.

What I am really.

I love you all for saying how strong I am. I really do. But guess what? I am not strong. I am nothing amazing or extraordinary. I think sometimes people say I'm strong so they don't feel bad when they think about me. "Oh she's been through a lot, but she's strong." No, I'm not. I'm just a mom who lost her baby.

Many times I wish I was dead, in heaven with him. I would never hurt myself. I don't think suicide is an answer to all this, but I do wish at times that I was with him. And his sibling. I do not know what would have happened, had they both lived. But I think about them both every day. And wish I could turn back time. No matter what I did, nothing made a difference in the outcome. I never delivered a healthy baby. And now I have to live with the past, something that I think of every day when I wake up and every day when I go to sleep.

The first two weeks after his death I existed with the help of valium. Now I have xanax during really rough days. Some days, not very often but some, I indulge in alcohol. It seems the best way to get by is by being numb. The number the better. Oh, what a shitty mother I am! What a horrible wife, a terrible person! And why? Because I admit what I am? Admit my weaknesses, my faults? To do something awful in order to get by? So be it. I care not what others think anymore. I just need to get by for now until all that is raw and painful is dull. To be able to continue to fake it until I can make it. To pretend what has happened is not on the edge of every waking moment of every day. Because right now, he is there, in my thoughts, my dreams, my tears, my anger, my frustrations. And trying to be a wife and mother have been the most difficult things I've ever undertaken before. Trying to be something for everyone when I feel less than whole. And to try not resenting those demands.

So here it is, raw and in your face. This is what a family looks like a few hours after giving birth to a still born. The result of learning of the death, going through labor and then the aftermath. This is what loss looks like, what marital strife is, what the ultimate worst nightmare is for parents to experience. I am not strong. I am merely working to continue to exist right now.

Even in my sleep

As I've mentioned numerous times, I take sleep aids at night and have been for many years. Chronic insomnia is nothing to sneeze at. Some nights I fall asleep immediately and some nights it takes me an hour or more to finally wander my way into la-la land. Usually it depends on how empty my stomach is, which is a great incentive to not eat heavy suppers or have snacks late in the evening.

This morning while dropping off my daughter at daycare, I tried to recall what I had done before falling asleep last night. I remember our new "baby", the pit bull puppy, cuddling up to me on the bed. She often has her muzzle resting on my hip or leg during the night and I wondered if this was just a Zelda thing or a pit bull thing. So I Googled something to the effect of "are pit bulls always cuddly" on the Ipad. That's the last thing I remember until my daughter woke up crying, again, and crawled into bed with me.

I found time to take a nice soak in the bath today and decided to read a book on my Kindle app on the Ipad. After entering my PIN, Safari pops up and I see this:

Talk about a slap to the face. No wonder I woke up feeling sad. I guess I was looking for any source of comfort online because the pain is still there. It's still raw and heart-wrenching. I know I've been feeling empty again lately, like my arms are always searching for my baby to hold. I think "he would be X many weeks today if he was alive." He'd be sitting in that double stroller with his sister while we walk the dogs. He'd be cooing and smiling around now.

But he's not here. He's a faint memory to most people now. I don't know if there will ever be any more children. And if there are, will I heal just a little? Or will this pain and sadness still be this intense? Here's to hoping tonight is filled with dreams inspired by the Outlander books or about our upcoming trip to New Orleans. And now I have to cut off this post because a pit bull just crawled on my lap and typing is annoyingly difficult. Until my fingers meet keys again...tschus.