I have these positive posts planned. These things I want to write about laid out in my head and I get excited for it. Excited to explore different avenues of myself and my thoughts and my heart in the way that blogging allows me to.
But.. my body seems to know. I write a lot now on Thursdays. My Mom watches 3 of the bigger kids ..
will it be like that for the rest of my life.. will I forever stumble over how to refer to my kids.
3 bigger, the kids, the girls, .. its a constant and subtle stab.. one is missing one is missing..
So my parents have them on Thursdays. Its my work day. I try to fill the day with all things Unravel.. and at night we go to counseling. Somewhere along the line I started writing while Bridgette slept. And now its part of the routine. And often times end up swallowing me up so I get nothing else accomplished.
My body seems to know. I wake on Thursday so hopeful for a wonderful morning with the kids until I take them to my parents.. But quickly I feel the edge in me growing. .. The need to release .. the sad that stays locked up much of the time fighting for my attention. That “grief baby” I wrote about is calling out for my attention.
I feel that familiar prickliness right behind my eyes and I cannot wait to let it out.
Grieving my daughter is something that now has a schedule it seems .. Not sure exactly how I feel about that. ..
I just wish I could be normal. Talk about her like I used to. Just get to be her mom. I still do talk about her. I refuse not to. But its just so different. Its stunted.. Its memories only.. And even the happy ones.. they are so tinged with sadness. And the not so happy ones. The weight they carry now is so abnormally heavy.
i miss you jennifer. i wonder who you would be.. but mostly right now i just miss the 6 year old little girl i knew..
Today I tried to fight against the pull. I started my day feeding Bridgette and going to my memories on Facebook like I do every morning. I saw a picture of what we thought were our perfect book end daughter. A picture of her as a flower girl at a wedding. .. One of those days that torments me.. So much I would have done differently.
I vowed to start my day and just try to soak it in. But I fumbled. Nothing major.. just little things with the kids got under my skin. And I learned something about myself. .. because you know best laid plans right? They never seem to go that way.. And adding the pressure to embrace the simple moments seems to almost inevitably equal failure.
I realized I am good. I mean I think I am really good in high pressure.. good in the more difficult moments that life throws at you.. Good at them for myself and supporting others through them. But I struggle in the little ones. The casual day to day problems are when I fail me in all areas of my life.
Today. Frustration with the kids over just being excited kids. Raising my voice when I didn’t actually need to. But dealing with a outburst that I know would have caused most others to lose it.. I did so smoothly and adequately. Thats why will it matter in a month is so powerful for me.. Because it helps me evaluate and react the way I want to.. in truth the way I should.
I need to work on it. Because driving with them in the car it hit me how little of this time I have left with them. Only 1 more year of preschool with Nicholas. Only 2 more years until Charlotte starts Kindergarten.. It really does feel like this time is slipping through my fingers like sand. Because I can’t fully grasp any of it.
These.. the easy years. The ones that are supposed to be filled with simple problems. Easily fixed with a kiss and a squeeze. Messy and dirty. Consumed by the physical. .. the wrestling and the snuggles.. I know it only gets harder.. problems more serious.
..well at least thats how it supposed to be. I am caught in a middle realm between 2 realities. The one with 4 living children that all of that is true for. And the one that taught me none of that is guaranteed and sometimes at only 6 .. At only 6 they can face challenges that are unescapable, that no amount of kisses or snuggles or prayers can save them from..
I think its time I admit the trauma. . (why am I crying so hard right now I don’t even know) .. The trauma of watching my daughter deteriorate .. of fighting an impossible fight and losing her so quickly seems to have had permanent implications I never would have thought of. Memory loss seems to be one of them. Because time is speeding up like it does for all parents at our stage.. But I can’t seem to capture any of it. ..
Today I am grieving more than just my daughter. I am grieving all that we lost. .. And apparently am still losing .. And today I find myself reaching and longing for the impossible. To just undo it all.. Erase it all and wake up from this nightmare.
To have her. Us. Back. Flawed, but whole.
today i just want to scream at you
get back here jennifer lynn
get back here
..until there is a cure..