A little more...A little less

 As a little girl I had big dreams....and as a big girl I have big dreams...but oh how they have changed.  In my childhood I was taught that I could be anything, do anything, reach for anything and achieve it.  I still believe this is true but what wasn't told me was that the "hard work" to achieve these dreams isn't the only thing that is hard...life is hard.  Somehow there was an unspoken, and at times described, picture of life unfolding so beautifully and with ease. The older I get the more I realize this couldn't be farther from the truth.

The truth? Life is hard.  Bottom line.  We ALL face, have faced or are walking toward tragedy. Why does it always surprise us?  Why do we imagine it won't happen? We reach for the stars and find that we often fall instead of landing there.  We compare ourselves to the reports of success we read in our news feeds, emails and to what we see...or what we think we see. Feelings of inadequacy wash over us and we avoid saying hello to our early-bird friends in the carpool line, wondering what they might think of our tired eyes, leftover mascara and breakfast covered tank top.  Isolation starts that easily.

Strangely the only time we connect with these people is when we reveal, honestly, our struggle...and open ourselves up to a world of similarity finding that we all share the bond of hardship, the bond of hope and the need to bear the burden together.

Why is this so hard for us?  We're broken...and we isolate ourselves into a lie just as big as the dreams we are fed as children and told to dream.

A little more honesty...a little more grace for each other...a little more time holding children, reading books to them and joining them on the slip n' slide and a little less time with seasonal decorating for visitors (that come by once a season...maybe??), a little less time scrubbing walls that don't talk and cannot be loved and a little less time stressing our lack.  A little more smiling and a little less comparing.  A little more saving and a little less debt.  A little less of everything that doesn't last...and a lot more of everything that does.  That's my goal...maybe it will involve a smaller house...a less pretty car without leather...fewer clothing purchases and pricey dates with my husband...and a lot less pressure.  It's hard to choose these things...what if friends think we just don't have money? What if they think times are tough and we're really burdened?  And...what if it inspires them to take a deep breath and lighten the load for themselves? Stay tuned...change is a comin'. :)

Waiting to breathe

Many of you know that we opted to bury Aimee with other babies who were stillborn or miscarried at the hospital.  There is a plot of land dedicated to these babies.  A private graveside service was thousands and our only other option was cremation.  This has been a bitter process as they only open the site 4 times per year meaning our baby will not be buried until November.


In some ways there is some respite in not having to have a service just yet...not having to have a final good-bye...and in other ways I know she is gone and would like to have been done with this bit a while ago.  Knowing her body still lies at the hospital and is not "at rest" is unnerving to me.  It almost feels as though she is where she doesn't belong.

I would be lying to say that all is well.  While our life has, of course, moved along with school, summer fun and time together there are moments I stop and pause and feel quite alone in my reflection.  The odd thing about missing a baby you have lost is that no one else knows or knew them.  While Eric held and saw Aimee, he is the only other one.  This is not to say I would have wanted other people to be present for this very sad day...just to say that she matters to me, I love her dearly and miss her deeply. 

Today I was at the gym working out and had a moment of pause...I saw a pregnant woman who was about 6 months along...the same point I'd be in pregnancy had I not lost Aimee...it was hard.  I didn't feel jealous...she isn't carrying my baby and she can't bring her back.  I felt a wave of loss and heartache.  I stared at the base of the elliptical machine and reflected, considered, felt sick over the inescapable truth of it all....and then I finished my workout.

Some days are harder than others...I think November will bring some closure and reawaken some emotions.  It's all part of life. I hope to enter each season, each struggle, each joy, fully....not letting it escape me to be felt and processed at another time.  Each day has enough trouble of its own, right? :)

I will blog about more than this...feel free to tune out until I do....or read along. :)