A moment in time....

It's interesting how important a moment can be. Not just in the sense that several moments pasted together create a memory, but in a more broken down sense. A moment can define you. It can spell out the content of your character as easily as if you'd be working on it your whole life. It can build you up. A single shining moment can tell people that you are someone to be trusted, relied upon, supported. It can also have the opposite effect. It can tell people that you are not worthy...of their time, their effort, their emotion. Moments are monumental. 

Going through everyday life though, you really don't think of it in those terms. You look back on memories, a cluster of moments that changed your life...but you rarely, before making those moments, consider how they're going to effect the overall direction your life is headed in. That's a pretty scary thing. You never really know where you're going until you've already made the decisions that are going to take you there...those moments. And...if they're the wrong ones, how do you recover from that? 

I guess the trick is to learn to change your way of thinking. Instead of the big picture, look at the smaller one. See the end result, but pay attention to how you're getting there. Making circles and standing still confused for hours before getting there will still get you there, but will leave frustration in your wake. Analyzing the situation, evaluating your moves, and making them without hesitation gets you there faster, with more progress. Which would you rather be? Do you want to be the person that wakes up in 10 years and says "how did i get here" or "this is not the life i wanted", or the person who wakes up in 10 years and says "I got myself here" or "I made my dreams come true"? 

Life can change in a second. An instant. A moment. You can be the villain, or you can be the hero. You can be booed off stage, or you can sing your heart out. You can back down, or rise to the occasion. The importance of a moment is choosing to be Somebody. Whoever that somebody is.

My Fam{ily}

What is family? A hand on your shoulder when the day has been long? A finger to wipe the tears as they stream down your face? A wolf at the door, protecting you from harm? A kind word when the rest of the world has turned it's back? Truly, it depends on the person, the circumstance, the people. I have a very blended family, and for that, I feel I'm grateful. As you make your way through life, you come across people. Some change your life for the better and then leave, some change your life for the worse and then leave, and others....change your life profoundly, and they stay. And if you're lucky, they make you better. They add something you've been missing, and you do the same for them. I can say that I'm blessed to have such people in my life. I was 15 when I met my first *REAL* boyfriend, and by that I mean, it wasn't just holding hands between classes and writing his name all over my notebook. (I totally did those things, but there were other things too.) I never imagined when I met this guy, that he'd effectively change my whole life. But truthfully, he did. Our relationship, in its entirety, lasted for about 5 years. We were high school sweethearts, and we were in love. We made some mistakes, and broke some other people's hearts, but what we were left with was something neither of us could deny, or regret....a family. Complete with a little boy, all our own, who looks just like his daddy, especially when he smiles. What my relationship with him ALSO brought me was a mother. A woman who would quickly become as influential in my life as my own mother, a woman who I'd share many giggles and secrets with, a best friend. It also gave me an Aunt...someone to spend time with, to laugh with, someone who gets drunk just as quickly as I do. Recently, it gave me a dad. As supportive and loving as I could ask for. He's as nerdy as I am, and as funny as I am, and as different as I am. He laughs at the funny things i laugh at, and he gets me. I don't know how, but some days, it feels like he's known me my whole life. With my dad, came a little girl. She's just 6 years old, and she's amazing. She's blond, with the deepest blue eyes you've ever seen in your life, and she thinks I hung the moon. She's my little sister. My best friend...has been my best friend for 12 years now. It's weird to think we've been at it this long. When you're in middle school, you don't imagine that the friends you're making are the ones you'll take with you the rest of your life. For her though, that was true. She's as much my sister as it's possible to be, which is good because I never had one of my own. She balances out my crazy, and I hers. We've been through a lot together, and I expect much more to come. Now, this boy and I broke up a LOOOONG time ago, and all that remains are the memories, and the tight knit family that he and I created together. He has since married a girl, who is great for him, and they have another child of their own. She's fantastic to my son, I truly couldn't ask for a more loving stepmother, aside from other feelings. He has introduced her into our crazy family, as he once introduced me, and they've been at it for 3 years or so now. And me? I've been through my share of hardships, including failed marriage, and heartache....but I stand here today, in love with someone else myself. Daniel and I have been dating for 2 years and 3 months now (if you count from the day we met) and we're taking it slow this time. As with any relationship, it has its ups and downs, but he loves my boys, and he loves me...and I couldn't ask for too much more than that. In addition to this side of my family, I have one all my own. Complete with parents, siblings, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. You'll hear more about them in my next post. I guess what I'm trying to get at is...blood doesn't necessarily make family. Family are the people who gather around the table every Sunday to just be together. Family are the people who stand up for you, when they can see that you just don't have the strength to stand up for yourself anymore. Family makes you aware of everything you are, everything you can be, and are also the ones to let you know everything you're not---and how to fix it. With a family as diverse and interesting as ours, there's bound to be some misunderstandings, some fights, and some silent treatments, but we always get over it...and we always come out stronger than we once were. These relationships know nothing of distance or time, or disagreements. We are, as we've always been. Together. In the end, your family is just made up of all the people who have always been there for you. And if you're as lucky as I am, to have a circle of so many incredible people in your life, then I'd say you're not doing to badly for yourself. Life is hard, and it's a journey, but it's easier when you have amazing people to take it with.

Say It Out Loud

There are days where I feel like a walking train wreck. There are days where the pain feels so raw that it takes everything inside of me just to crawl out of bed. There are days when I still feel like she's with me, like I'm carrying her, a whole year and a half later. There's pain. A lot of pain. And then, almost as if there wasn't, I snap out of it. I come out of the trance that is the anguish, and I talk about her A LOT. My facebook drowns in memory of her, and all I really want is to scream her name from the mountain tops.

So i do. 

People who have not experienced loss of this kind don't understand. Many of them have a hard time relating, or talking about it. What is there really to say about a child who's life ended so suddenly?  

 What isn't there to say?

Isabella (or Bells as I call her) IS a sister. She's a daughter, and grand daughter, a niece, a cousin, and a best friend. She was loved, anticipated, played with, talked about. She LIVED. You could never talk about her enough. I could go on for days about her,  and the short 23 weeks she lived inside of me. I could talk about my cravings, about her kicks, about her life. And I'll always remember with a smile on my face. Even if I'm smiling through the tears.

I'm not alone.

All over the country, and all over the world are mother's and father's experiencing this same loss. Dealing with this same hardship. Dying to scream their names, dying for ANYONE to want to listen. There are families, just like ours who are trying to cope, trying to create a new "normal". One that DOESN'T involve basic needs for that baby that they didn't get to take home. One that DOES involve trying to include her, keep her in your life, and keep her in your family when everyone else wants to forget. When everyone else tries to forget. Parents though, they don't. And they never will.


For this reason, the work that Carrie and Jonathan do is extraordinary for parents like us. They too, have experienced a loss. Their daughter, Elena is an angel. A fact that is hard to face, and a reality that never goes away. Because of the impact she made on their lives, they have started a movement. STILL Project is geared towards gaining awareness about a topic that at times can be "taboo". They're encouraging families that have experienced a loss to #SayItOutLoud. Their project is going to tell the stories of parents all over the world who want to share their stories, who want the world to know who their Angel Babies are. Their mission is exceptional, and so is their compassion. Today, and everyday, we will support this movement, and follow wherever it leads us. For the parents that participate, the world will know about their loss. For the parents that don't, they'll have learned to open up, to talk about it, to love, to mourn, and to live again.

They'll learn to say it out loud. 

 

That Feeling....

It hits you. Most of the time before you ever have the chance to see it coming and run from it. It consumes you-crashing over you like a wave and taking you down...down to your knees, begging for relief from the storm. 
    
It's PANIC. It's FEAR. It's HURT. It's LOSS.

Maybe it was a song, playing on the radio---that always reminds you of her. 
Maybe it was a picture...and hand, or a foot. That looked just a little like hers. 
Maybe it was a smell....a gentle reminder of a time when she was. 
Maybe it was a taste...a familiar craving...that you associate with that person. 

It's GRIEF. 

Whatever sparks the memory, it stops you in it's tracks. It owns you, and all you can do it just succumb to it. You close your eyes and just let it be, and you realize....you could see her whole life in these few minutes if you just tried hard enough. You think about the person she was, the person she would have someday been. You wonder if she'd be a singer like her mommy, or good at math like her dad. You wonder what her smile would be like, and you swear you can hear her laughter in the breeze. It stops you. In a very real way. You get lost in the moments...thinking of her, and you snap out of it, just as a tear rolls down your cheek. It's funny how I never knew an Isabella before mine was gone, and now, it seems they're everywhere. It shocks me how just hearing her name can send me spiraling....lost in a world of what if's and could have beens. 


To cope with the panic and the pain, I cry. I turn on the shower, I run the hot water, and I sit in the tub, with the water coming down on me, running down my face, masking the tears. I sob, the shower drowning out the noises of my despair. I really let go. I break down...and i enjoy it. It's needed sometimes...and it helps. 




So what about you? What kinds of things do you do to cope with your pain? Whether its a child, or a parent, or a sibling, or friend? How do you handle it, how do you deal? 


In the end, all we really have is each other. Break the silence....don't be afraid to talk about them in public. Don't be afraid to say their names.