September 17th, my four year anniversary with Dill, I had surgery on my ankle to fix a year-long work-related injury. You know, that's wonderful and all. I'm sure it will help my quality of life once I'm healed and finished with physical therapy.
Right now?
Right now it sucks. I'm laid up in the apartment, no work for four months now (two more to go). I've just gotten to where I can drive myself around short distances. And my best friend from the teen years who lost her wonderful dad a couple months ago called.
I sit here at 2:30am with no reason to sleep now and get up later in the day. My daughter is dead. She is gone. And most people won't acknowledge that she ever existed. Some say I lost nothing. Nobody seems to get that I lost every part of myself the day I realized what I lost.
The funny thing about my miscarriage is that I didn't 'know' she was gone. It took me two months later and high on sleep medication to feel the full effect. I was in bed, trying to sleep. All of a sudden, I felt my stomach and I felt incredibly alone. Two months had gone by since I had bled so heavily for over two weeks. Since I had gone to the doctor and been told 'It was likely a miscarriage. But do you really want to dwell on that? Go home and pretend it was just a weird period."
I walked out of the room and down the swirling hallway to Dill. He sat at his computer as I leaned onto the futon. I whispered, "I need you", before bursting into some of the most heart-wrenching sobs I've ever created. It was then that I knew what I lost. I didn't lose my pregnancy. I didn't have a miscarriage. My child died. My child died.
If you go and tell someone your child died, they will exhibit so much sympathy the world will shift on it's axis. If you tell them you lost your baby, they still show similar horror and sympathy. If you say you lost your pregnancy, they seem to expect you mean after the first trimester and feel pretty upset for you. But if you tell them you had a miscarriage...they might say they are sorry, then turn to you and expect the conversation to be over. A miscarriage is just a passing thought. People don't seem to understand a person died. A child died. A parent is now questioning what they are. Are they still a parent if they have no living child?
And so when my friend Que called me to talk about her father who passed...I couldn't help but continuously wonder why I was doing this. Never once has she comforted me over Taylor. Anytime I brought Tay up, she would change the subject. And here I was comforting her. Listening to her story, her experience, her sobs. Whereas she let me say I had a miscarriage before changing the subject.
Yeah. Recovery sucks. No, I'm not okay. But that's okay. I'm learning that you don't always have to be okay. I'm learning that despite it being 2 1/2 years since her passing, it's perfectly fine for me to not be okay sometimes.
I can't tell you how much I miss Taylor. Words do not express to anyone how painful and lonely this is. But I do. I miss Taylor. I love Taybear so much, and I miss her. And as much as it sucks and hurts...
Hey there readers. So sorry for the delay in posts. I'd been working overtime at my job, which I love. Then September 17th, I had surgery on my injured leg. Been doing the recovery stuff since.
Oh, and did I mention...Dill and I got engaged October 10!? I will soon be Mrs. Pickle Dill....yeah, a bit backwards. You get the idea, though!
Hope everyone is doing well. Just thought I'd give a brief update and let you know I plan to be active with this blog again soon.
Tomorrow, I'm going into surgery for a leg injury. I've been thinking about Taylor frequently. Just wanted to say I miss Tay and wish s/he were here. The pain never goes away, but I do feel like I can live. Though I'll never be whole, I know I will be with Taylor when it's time.
The other day in the store (I work at JoAnn Fabric and Crafts), I saw our first nursery frog print cotton fabric. We hadn't had one yet. There it was. Unexpectedly. Right there in the aisle I burst into tears. In seconds - blankets and curtains, bibs and onesies, valances and decor - flashed through my head. My Taylor's nursery. What it would have been.
Wish me luck with my surgery. Remember, it's okay to cry and grieve - no matter how long it has been.
It sure has been awhile. This year has been one of the toughest since Taylor's passing. I can't say for sure why that is, but it has been. So I have been really focused on myself the last many months. My job, my personal life, health, and family.
This past July has been a year since Booth passed, and the second since Taylor. I guess I thought I would have more closure for both by now. I expected to be ready to let Booth go and move on, and to finally have a few days without wondering what Taylor would be like.
It's not that her memory is a burden. At least, not all the time. Knowing I had her for a few weeks, is a blessing. But wondering what she would be like today is a burden. It's these two things that I have so much trouble separating. When I celebrate my little one, I try to do it happily. The only way I know how is to be glad I had her for as little as I did. Of course the 'what ifs' show up, causing heartache. And it's that which is causing this year to be so hard.
Just last week, I fell apart again. Completely. I wondered why I was here. What was my purpose? Was it solely to lose the ones I loved? Had I not lost enough? Why, Lord? Why?
I realize the questions only make things harder. And I know I will receive no answers. Not the ones I am seeking. He wanted her. He took her. And He has her. I don't know why. I don't know why He thought I could handle this. But for some reason, He did. So here I am. I'l try to release those questions to Him. Let Him answer those once I am there too. If I don't, I don't think I'll be able to go another year. The ache is too much. So, I can't answer why you might have lost your little one, because I haven't a clue why I lost mine.
Last week was another turning point in my short, but long life. I made a rash decision during a heightened emotional period. And all that I can say today is that I am glad the decision wasn't 100%.
I've finally figured something out, though. Here I am. A grieving mother. A lost soul. And I am trying to answer your questions, trying to heal your hearts. When all I am doing is hiding my pain. In the end? I'm helping nobody. Instead, I need to be open with my readers, so you can be open to me. Maybe this is the only way to get through this type of pain. Nobody has to be strong. As long as we all lean on one-another.
I know this is a late post, but I have been busy with a new job, chores, and getting myself back on a healthy lifestyle.
All of these places have had mass losses or nightmarish experiences. My Nation is in my prayers and has been since the start of this sad month. My prayers also have been going to the survivors, and the surviving families of victims of the Columbine High shooting. That one is seared vividly in my head, just as much of these recent incidents. Along with these mass events, I have been praying for Rehtaeh Parsons' friends and family.
If you have not heard of Rehtaeh's story, please look for it. I had actually been planning to post next about her case, but the Boston Bombing was still a sore subject and I wanted to elaborate on that first. Next I will talk a little about her case and talk a little more about heinous crime that degrades women - rape.
Hey there. Sorry for lack of posts. I had been trying to prepare for a trip back home to Indiana which I took last week. It was quite amazing, and did a huge number on my self esteem. My mother paid for my haircut and dye, which was a real emotional moment. I made some discoveries about my father and that side of the family, which were all quite good. And my friends accommodated me more than I could have imagined.
Basically, my haircut and dye was a huge change. The hair was just trimmed and slightly layered, but the hairdye was a darker color than I ever used before. I told the stylist I didn't want to see it until it was done, and she gladly obliged. When it was ready, she turned me around...and all I could say was, "Oh my God. Oh my God." I teared up, but held them back as best I could. For once, these were tears of joy. My self esteem had been pretty low the past few months, but when I saw myself in that mirror, I felt like a 10.
The day before, my sister and I had gone on a shopping spree. First time in 4 years I had new clothes, I felt pretty good. After the haircut, donning new clothes, I can't even explain the emotions I went through. I realized, I can look good. I can feel good. It was an eye opener.
At my Father's, I found for the first time in a long time, that I belonged. Of course I felt like I belong with my mother, but I was always the black sheep, or ugly duckling, of my family. I was loved, but odd. And nobody would say differently. I was the most sensitive, quietest, nicest, most passionate, and had the strangest taste, style, and emotions. However, at my father's for a night with his girlfriend...I began to see the resemblances. They stay up late, because dad cannot sleep well at night. Nor can I. Never have liked sleeping at night. Then, his love of coffee. Midnight, and we both were drinking coffee. Pot after pot. We had the same interests for television shows. And my sweet tooth must come from him.
I asked about our heritage, as I only ever knew my mother's side. What I found out, made so much sense. I am Scottish, German, and French. On my mother's side, I am Native American (I believe Cherokee), and French. All of these make sense for my hobbies, interests, and tastes. They also account quite a bit for my appearance. Pale skin, high cheek bones, etc.
The trip was a huge eye opener, and a great one. It was pretty cheap, minus the shopping trip. Driving back and forth was only around $200. Most everyone paid for my meals, or made them at home. And everyone drove me where I went. Stayed with my friend, sister, father, and my mom/grandparents.
My suggestion to you? Take a vacation. I know, you may not have time. What I love to do? On two days I have off, rent a hotel that is nearby your home. Be sure it has a pool, if you like to swim. Or a fitness center. Room service is a huge plus. As well as a fridge and microwave.
Traffic on the way home. 14 miles of endless traffic.
This can become your sanctuary. Grab your milk, and a couple meals to microwave from home. Do not leave the hotel. Use it to relax. Enjoy the pool or Jacuzzi. Or head to the workout center with some music and relax while you exercise. This is a great time to just relax and focus on yourself.
This post did not publish on time for some reason. This is about two weeks old, sorry!
I apologize for lack of posts. We have been so busy around here. Between me, who keeps getting sick, to friends who visited from out-of-state, to planning a trip back home to Indiana. It's been crazy!
Well, I thought an update was in order. I have two job interviews today, which are the first since moving here six months ago! I finally finished unpacking, which opened up much more space. The pets seem to be doing well. And I'm heading to Indiana April 1st-7th to visit friends and family. I truly miss them all more than I thought I would!
Today, I wanted to talk a little about medications. Not everyone who has suffered such a loss as we have need medication. However, some do. This is a hard thing to go through. It's lonely. It's sad. It hurts. It's overwhelming. Medication is okay. Do not be ashamed if you feel you need to get on something.
I admit, I'm on two anti-depressants right now. I've been on them a month. My mood has changed a bit all ready. Granted, one is causing a jittery side effect, but we are hoping it will work itself out. If not, we will try something else. My point though, is that it's perfectly fine if you need medications after a loss. It does not mean you are 'messed up' or that you have to take them the rest of your lives. Sometimes after such a big loss, you can get on medication for a year, then ween off and be fine.
There is nothing to be ashamed about. Some people think medication is 'bad'. I don't understand that. Sure you are welcome to try herbs or other natural remedies. Go right ahead and try those first. They didn't work for me. I still felt like I couldn't get out of bed, and I still broke down in the middle of the day.
If you ever have questions, do ask in my comment section (near the date and title of the post, there is 'Comments', then a number. Click the number to comment. - I'm looking into making that easier. You can do it anonymously so nobody knows.
UPDATE: I am now working at Outback.
UPDATE: I am now working at Joann Fabric and left Outback.
This is the last of Taylor's Birthday Compilation.
For Taylor's 1st birthday, I asked my best friend, Uncle Kosher, to write Taylor something for her birthday. He so sweetly obliged. This was such a wonderful idea, and plan to ask him and another person to do so next year.
Uncle Kosher's Letter to Mommy
The letter reads:
Dear Taylor,
Your mother has been dropping subtle hints for me to write and send this letter, and some not so subtle ones as well. I suppose I feel like I should probably apologise (Uncle Kosher doesn't know how to spell) for the shape of the paper I'm writing on. I had it packed away with some books and other things, and I guess they kind of messed them up. I should also probably apologise (Uncle Kosher doesn't know how to spell) for my handwriting. I'd use the excuse that I just haven't written in awhile, but to be honest, I just have horrible handwriting.
So, you know, I don't actually know what to say... I've never known what to say to younglings such as yourself. I suppose I should introduce myself, shouldn't I? We've not met, but I'm your crazy Uncle Kosher. I've known your mom for a long time, she's an amazing person. You're lucky to have such a loving Mother. She sometimes need help, so be sure to take care of her for me, ok? I'm counting on you now little one.
Oh, Happy Birthday, by the way. No, I didn't forget, I was stalling for dramatic effect. I don't have anything I can get you, so I'm going to attach a picture from a coloring book that I filled in recently. The other side is blank. Ask your mom to fill it in, ok?
Alright, I think that's all dear, Happy Birthday!
Love,
Uncle Kosher
The picture mommy is supposed to color.
I will do so on the 2 year anniversary
of joining Heaven. <3
I apologize for lack of blogging. It has been one thing after another here. I should be back to blogging this week! No worries there. Just thought I'd wish everyone a quick recovery from St. Patty's day!
It's been much too long since my last post! Unfortunately, I have been sick since the week after Tay's birthday. All of us who went out that Saturday had the flu of some sort, and today I have a doctor appointment. So wish me luck that they can help me feel better, so I can get back to blogging!
Anyone else feel this way? I do! Of course, we aren't ready for a child yet. So I have to hold off, but boy do I want to BD (baby dance) or DTD (do/did/done the deed). It's driving me nuts! Anything gets me going the past two days, and I want to just rip off our clothes and get going.
Granted, I'm not sure why I'm ovulating right now. I should have had aunt flo three days ago. Instead, O (ovulation) is 2 weeks early! I think it's my body saying, "Do it, do it, do it!". Sometimes, it sucks being a woman! I just want to procreate. What's so wrong with that? Well, Dill is not ready. We are yet to be married. Heck, we aren't even engaged yet. So ovulating just makes me crazy right now.
So I decided to do something special. I decided to make 'professional' cupcakes. I wanted it to be the best cupcakes I've ever made, but also not from scratch considering that can cost more than a boxed mix these days. It was real simple, and I'm currently waiting on them to come out! I will say though, the batter tasted great! I know, I know...you're not supposed to eat raw egg. It's something my family has done since before I was born, and nobody has been sick from it. Since I'm an adult, and there are no kids around, I feel it's not a big deal. I'll take responsibility for myself if I get sick.
Everything but the pan.
So Simple!
Anyways, so here is the recipe I used:
RECIPE:
- 1 box cake mix (any flavor - I used Pillsbury Moist supreme Classic Yellow
- 3 Eggs (you can substitution with 4 egg whites)
- 1 Cup Milk (I used 2% so others should be fine as well AND omit the oil)
- 2 1/2 tbsp butter, melted (salted or unsalted will work. I used blue bonnet)
- 1 tsp Vanilla extract or flavoring (I used flavoring)
That's it! That is all the ingredients you need. And the best part? I didn't bother with a cupcake pan! Those things end up getting dirty somehow, they take up room in the cabinets, and it's hard to get the cupcakes out. So I grabbed some Reynolds Foil Baking Cups (35ct) for $1.88. They come lined with a paper cup, but since I bought the special butterfly ones for Tay (75ct for $1.88), I just decided to save those for another time! Then I put the special ones in the foil, and now I can reuse the foil cups! It's great. More on that later...
Cups and my flower liners
Melt the butter in the microwave
Add 3 eggs, cake mix, and milk (or soy milk, or whatever you are using) in a bowl on top of the butter.
Using a hand mixer, mix on low for 1 minute, then go up one for another minute. If using a spoon, make sure it is a large spoon and stir for 2 minutes. It may have a few clumps and won't looks as creamy, but it will still work.
The mix! So creamy!
It's almost a texture to brownies!
Line the foil cups with the liners that come with them, or your own pretty liners.
Cups and my liners.
Place on cookie sheet (should bake a dozen at a time.
Fill cups with a tablespoon (just under halfway).
1 tbsp batter into the cups
Place in preheated oven at 350 degrees for 13-20 minutes (my oven always makes the sides hard if I do full time, so for these it took 13 minutes to be done). Just keep an eye on them. As soon as they start to brown on the top, pull them out and off the sheet.
Browned on top.
After they cool slightly, turn upside down in your hand and the cupcake and the liner will slide right out of the foil. Now you can store the foil and reuse!
Let cool at least an hour
Now what about the icing?
ICING:
- Pillsbury Creamy Supreme Cream Cheese (any vanilla should work $1.88)
- Betty Crocker Classic Gel Food Colors (I think it was around $3)
Let cupcakes cool COMPLETELY
Open the icing and stir.
Add 10 drops of food coloring of your choice, then stir until blended well. (I wanted darker green, so I used a lot)
Fluff with a fork, then use a knife to scoop onto the cupcakes.
Spread gently.
Optional: Let stand a few minutes, then squeeze out the Confetti Gel in a zigzag pattern (Extras - below)
Extras (Can be omitted):
- Cake Mate Confetti Gel (I used Pink Dots, around $2)
I'm going to confess something. I'm embarrassed and ashamed to tell people I had a miscarriage.
No, I am not ashamed of the miscarriage. I'm ashamed to admit I had premarital sex. I wouldn't say I'm a highly religious person, but I do believe God intended us to marry before sex. This I have not obeyed. So when I mention my miscarriage, their eyes immediately veer to my ring finger which only has a promise ring, no engagement ring, and no wedding band. Then my cheeks flush and I am left feeling awkward.
On our way to Charleston.
Should I be ashamed? I don't know. I'm not ashamed of Taylor, though. Never ever. And not to discount anyone's grief, as each situation is unique and different, but I feel sometimes it's worse for me not being married than if I were married. I hear people say, "Well, it's probably best since you aren't married." Huh? Did you really just tell me it was best my daughter died because I wasn't married? I have everything in this relationship that a marriage does. We are committed, we love each other, we workout our fights (yes, we do fight - it's normal), we are steady, we are financially responsible, we live together, we've been pregnant, we've been through me losing jobs, depression, Dill losing his previous job, a move across state lines, etc.
What more is there for us to do other than have papers stating we are married? Nothing. We've considered buying a house, but I explained I want to be married first before we do that. At least we might be able to do that step first! Still, people see the miscarriage as a 'blessing in disguise'. Well, guess what? Those who couldn't even try to understand my explanations of how painful it is no matter why it happened...They're gone. They no longer are in my life.
It's definitely not easy to tell anyone what you experienced. You never know what you'll get: pity, sorrow, shock, dismissed, no reaction, a reaction like they just heard the weather report. It's quite scary! In the next posts to come, I will talk about how to bring it up, when to bring it up, etc. For now, have a wonderful Thursday!
Set up the coffee bar temporarily, until I can gather the supplies needed to re-do the table.
Sorry about image quality. But here is my beauty.
The little canister with the woman is a tin I found at Goodwill a few months back. It's in great condition, and is cute. I use it for my sugar (yellow Domino's canister will be repurposed later). Eventually I want most, if not all, of my mugs hanging above the table, and the picture above will be moved to another wall. Now remember that cluttered and overflowing cabinet I showed you?
Before and After I can now reach the containers! The cups above are ones that will eventually be moved to the coffee bar. We now have space for all of our containers, cups, and dinnerware! It's excited.
This project has helped keep me busy the last few days. I'm excited to continue sharing my projects and experiences with you. Next, I'm tackling cleaning the barstools. Have yet to figure out what I will do with them!
Also, keep on the lookout for Taylor's special birthday post coming up Saturday March 2nd. It will be pretty late, but I'll get it up. I have some great things planned, and I can't wait to celebrate her in Heaven!
So, we have been focusing a lot on the miscarriage experience in itself. How about we take a little bit of time to figure out what to do next. For myself, I love to keep busy. Since I am currently unemployed and without children, I find I have a lot of time on my hands. Some may think this would be a nice way to live, but it isn't. Let me stop you there. It's depressing, lonely, and I feel like a lazy bum despite not being lazy. It's hard to find a job, especially with an injury (more on that some other time). It's even harder to find a job that you like, which isn't the determining factor if I will apply. But it is also hard finding a job when you are still grieving. Very hard. So let's focus on us a minute all right?
Yes, this is me.
Let's do this!
Just because you are doing something fun, or active, or productive - does not mean you care any less about your Angel. Not at all. In fact, if you are a religious woman like myself, then I believe my Taybear is watching me from above, and I want to make her proud. I want to show her that no matter what her mama goes through, she will get through it so she can one day be with her daughter. That is my belief. It does not have to be yours. You could try thinking, 'I want to be the way I would have been if I had my baby here'. Sure they aren't here now, but I bet you would want to have been something good for them if they were. Why not be that anyway? Hopefully in the future you could be, whether to your own children or foster children or adopted. No matter what, hopefully you can be a great influence to somebody children, adults, elderly. Whoever. There is always room for good! So, please. Try to be the person you wanted to be if they were here.
That being said. I have been finding myself more and more depressed, bored, and lazy. Yeah, so I get lazy when all I have to do in my life is chores. So I have been trying to find other things to do which ironically helps motivate me to do more around the house. I'm odd, I know.
Well, Dill and I have a great apartment. Our kitchen is gorgeous and has a nice, large island counter. However...it is a lot smaller than our last two kitchens, so we always have stuff overflowing onto the counters, in the dishwasher, in the sink, in the laundry room, and often times stuff falling out of the cabinets. It doesn't help that I have around 15 coffee mugs that I love dearly, an espresso machine, a large coffee machine, bags of coffee, large tub of sugar, and a coffee grinder. Yikes!
There are plenty more cups in the dishwasher...
And don't mind the clutter please!
So to fix all of this, I looked on Craigslist (Oh Craigslist...you are such an addiction!) for a table. I wasn't really looking to find anything. However, I happened across this adorable breakfast table with two barstools that happens to fit perfectly in the dining room without it actually being in the way. Also, it was originally from Target for $105 and I got it for a measly $35 (well, $40 because we did not have change). SOLD!
Not a great picture, but you get the idea.
Dill was excited, too, once I told him we would have more space and my coffee pot would be off the island counter. Which he hates. He is a very simplistic man, whereas I love lots of colors, textures, and boldness! So this was a perfect compromise since I have always wanted my own 'coffee bar'. I can't wait!
Wait? What am I waiting for you ask? Well, it's pretty dirty. So are the stools. So I am currently working on cleaning them. Also, the grout in the tile on top is filthy and dark, so I have been working on cleaning that. Annnnd here comes the big one! I want to strip the paint off and stain the wood an espresso/dark walnut color! Am I crazy? Oh, absolutely. I have never done anything like this in my life. It's going to cost around another $45. So really, I have just spent about $85 on this table...but that's still cheaper than brand new, it gives me something to do, and I plan on using the supplies on a little bench I received from my grandmother. So it will work out well. $85 to re-do a table, two barstools, and a bench (and perhaps a yucky barstool Dill brought home from work that's scratched and stained - the bad kind, not the good stains).
The stools, and Dill's yuck stool in the background.
This is a wonderful project to try. If it fails? Ah well. I'll go grab some paint and just do that. Plus, maybe it will give it some character. I will be keeping updates so you can see my progress. I do suggest you do something as well. Crochet, workout (my other hobby!), make a youtube blog, make your own blog, cook for groups, volunteer, etc. Do anything. Even things you don't think you can do (like this crazy project!).
I believe in you. It's great for you to try something new.
Hello, everyone. Hope your Wednesday is going well!
I wanted to alert you to a new feature I added a few days ago: e-mail subscription! All you have to do is submit your e-mail address to the left and anytime there is a new post, you will receive an e-mail. That is the only purpose. Your e-mails will be private and will never be published or open to the public!
When we lost Taylor, we were living nearly 900 miles from where we are now, in a different state and apartment. Yet, despite this, my brain wants to get sad still and wonder which room room would have been her nursery, what it would look like now, and how life would be different. This is something that is all right to do briefly, but not often. You can wonder, but then you need to be able to keep going. This year, I have been unable to do so. As I was looking around, I was becoming more and more sad.
So I decided to make some changes to lighten my mind. I wanted a change because Tay should be in one of the rooms and things would be different. So I made them different. Dill and I rearranged our living room and sunroom (I feel so fancy saying we have a sunroom, but I swear we are far from rich or fancy!). We still have boxes that need unpacked (Oh yes, I am lazy), so we unpacked a few of them. We didn't add anything new, nor did we take any furniture or decor away. However, the new layout is fresh.
Our 'fresh' layout!
Now I walk in and feel great. For now, my mind is feeling satisfied about the new look. Sure it isn't how things would be if Taylor were here, but it's a wonderful change and it gives my mind something new to focus on for awhile. We still have a ways to go with our apartment, despite it being nearly 5 months, but we are getting there. More work to come today on the second bedroom. I can't wait! I'll try to get before and after pics of the bedroom, considering I wish I could have of the living room. It looks so different!
What do you do when you feel this way? Or just sad?
PS: Dill made me coffee then woke me up! How awesome!
PPS: I was going to add a photo, but apparently I deleted a whole folder of important photos by accident. Yuck. I'll add photos later if I feel up to it. Now time to go sulk in coffee!
Another idea I came up with for Taylor's first birthday, is for her Uncle Kosher to write her a letter. He is doing so and will send it sometime once he stops forgetting. Yes, that is a slight hint to Uncle Kosher.
So be expected a wonderful birthday post to her on March 2nd.
In the meantime, Happy Valentine's Day/Single Awareness Day! Whichever you prefer. Last night was wonderful. Dill and I headed downtown for the second time since moving and enjoyed a beautiful, yet cold, walk along the Battery.
Also known as 'Rainbow Row' Charleston, SC
Then we headed over to a cute dessert restaurant where we indulged in drinks and a deliciously warm brownie with ice cream.
Kaminsky's Most Excellent Cafe Brownie Sunday
I loved the experience so much, I even bought a pecan pie slice to go. Then we saw this guy set up a spot to pain/draw. As we walked by, I was astounded.
If I had cash on me, I would have bought it unfinished right there. It was gorgeous. It's funny - the things that make me think of Tay. This was a gorgeous and slightly abstract drawing of a horse-drawn carriage. The horse was white while the buildings behind and around it were purple and pink hues. I could imagine me placing this in her nursery for her to grow up with. It just represented so many things. It represented the beauty of the area we now live in. The beauty of life through the horse. This was a street artist who had magnificent talent, and I really wish we had cash. I'm not sure I'll ever forget that painting. I hope it goes to a good home.
Similar in style to Van Gogh's Starry Night, but of a horse drawn carriage, and in purple and pink hues.
I decided to make cake last night, so I made two separate round cakes. One is decorated with sprinkles and a lone pink candle. The other is just icing.
I decided to do an early celebration for Taylor's upcoming birthday, considering I've been thinking about her a lot.
Here you go. Simple, yet meaningful.
Grief is something you never 'get over'. It is something you feel and deal with. You may grieve the first few months, then feel fine for three years. Suddenly, it hits again. Either for a moment, or for months. That's okay. It's normal. It happens. Often times, it comes unprovoked. Other times, one smell or word could be the trigger. This is normal.
Is it okay to be angry with God?
In a way. It's okay to question God about why you or your child were put through this. It's fine to yell at Him even, as long as in the end you don't hate Him. I yelled at Him for a good few months, but I never did stop loving Him, nor did I ever hate Him. I was angry, confused, and sad. Somehow I never hated Him. For some reason, he didn't feel Tay should be in this world. He was saving her from something and for something. She has a greater purpose up there than she would have here. It took me a long time to be okay with this, though. So do yell at Him. Ask him why. Beg Him to bring your child back. Tell Him how wrong it was to let you experience such hope, then for it to be ripped away. In the end? Thank Him for being able to know your child, even if you never met them yet. Be thankful for the other things you do have. Family. Friends. Dinner. Shelter. And remember that your baby is awaiting you one day, as God intended it.
Is it okay to feel suicidal?
Again, in a way. Basically, there are two types of suicidal thoughts.
Passive Suicidal Thoughts: You might wish you were dead. You might even think about killing yourself. If you feel this, it can be normal. It's called a passive thought. You still might want to speak to someone, but as long as you aren't planning it is considered to be passive.
Active Suicidal Thoughts: These are a concern. You will have a plan. Know exactly how you will do it. Your thoughts are consumed by this thought. You might know the exact day or time. You start saying goodbye to friends and family, or selling things that are dear to you. At this point, you need to dial 9-1-1. This is not a good road to go down. Even if you feel alone, there is somebody who will care, or does care, and there are people who can relate to what you are going through. There are plenty of FREE suicide hotlines, several online forums or services, and then there's me. If all else, feel free to message me. If you are on the verge of hurting yourself, I do urge you to call 9-1-1. Most places will provide payment plans and there is government assistance for some cases.
So yes, as long as it's a thought that comes up and goes away, and maybe comes back every now and then. This is normal. It's also normal if you don't ever feel this way. It does not reflect badly on you as a grieving mother. People deal with grief differently.
Is it okay if I don't feel anything?
As I stated above, yes. You might be able to recover quickly. I know people who have lost a parent or sibling and do not grieve but the first day. They are just really good at adapting to bad situations. It has nothing to do with your relationship with them.
On the other hand, if you just don't feel anything because you do not believe the child existed...that is your belief. It's okay. I personally do not feel that way, but if that is your belief it is fine. Do not let others feel bad because you are not grieving.
Is it bad I don't want to name the baby?
No. It's all right. It may be too real for you and you are not ready to accept it. If this is the case, you need to get here eventually. It's a part of the grief and moving on. However, if you just don't feel the need. That's okay too. Some people prefer not to name the child and move on immediately. As I said above, 'They are just really good at adapting to bad situations.' I know people who have lost a child and never named them. It makes it easier on them, and they were able to move on still. This was not the case for me. To me, my child was my baby and they deserved a name. Plus it was easier than 'my baby' in every sentence. "The baby would have been here. This would be the baby's nursery. I miss the/my baby." Just easier to give her a name for when we have future children.
What if I never got a positive test, but feel I was pregnant?
Hello, welcome to my experience! You might receive even less recognition of losing a child. For myself, my story is documented as my first post. I kept feeling different, then I began getting symptoms. A friend mentioned the possibility of pregnancy, and it hit. That was it. By then, I had started miscarrying and my tests showed up negative. A year later, my dad's girlfriend who is able to 'predict' these things, mentioned she thought I had been pregnant. I asked her when, and she said around June or July. Which was when I had all of those symptoms and feelings. If you truly believe you were, then you most likely were. You know your body better than anyone else.
If you have any other questions, comment below and I will answer to the best of my ability. Keep hope, loves.
Since the holidays, I have found myself struggling even more than before, especially with her first birthday coming up. In order to keep myself from delving too deeply into depression, I've been distracting myself. However, distractions can only do so much. So I have been angry instead of sad. I don't want to be sad anymore. I'm exhausted of being sad, but being angry has caused issues between Dill and me.
So what did I do? What do you do if you can't seem to express yourself, or you don't want to express your sadness?
Express it. It's not that simple, I know. It's not what you want to do, but it is what you need to do. Your mind and body are screaming at you to cry more. Even if no tears come. They want you to think about your baby. What could have been. What happened. And it's okay.
Sure you don't want to cry all the time. You shouldn't dwell on it everyday, all the time. But it is perfectly fine to cry and think about it when you need. It's tiring. It isn't fun to be grieving. Even years later. But it is normal. It is fine. It is okay to grieve. So let it out.
But I'm afraid I will never stop
So am I, but I have stopped before. I went a couple months without crying or grieving real hard. Sure I thought about Taylor. Of course I did. But it wasn't all day everyday feeling like I was being crushed by the grief. Let it out. The next day, take time to yourself if you are able. Do comfort things. Relax. Read a book all day. Take a bubble bath. Sit on the couch and be lazy. Take the kids to the park and enjoy watching them play. Do something you enjoy, but doesn't use a lot of energy or thought.
I recently developed a love for bubble baths. Not hot ones. No. Cool ones. I find it more calming. Though I am a cold-blooded person. I also love coffee. So on the really bad days, like recently. I'll promise myself coffee from the local shop as long as I get one chore done. It helps. Or if I'm having a real bad day and can't spend the money or take the time to go out? I make some hot cocoa or iced tea, take a moment to sit down and relax while I drink it. Cuddle with Dill if he is home from work. Then I get back to it.
Thank you, Target!
Espresso cup and saucer - less than $5.
For some reason, humans are now taught to never care for themselves and just keep going and pushing yourself until you fall apart. This is wrong. I don't want to fall apart, do you? So I treat myself to a drink I love, or relax every now and then when things get too tough.
I also bought a memory box in honor of Taylor, which helps me quite a bit more than I expected. I have it on my dresser, so I can look over there when I need to, or not look at it all the time when I don't. It's not in my view constantly, reminding me, but it's easy to access and see if I need. I themed it with what her nursery would have been, and it has a small note from me handwritten by the maker (etsy) and her due date.
I'm waiting on my Molly Bear (Help and Support), which I think will be greatly helpful to have something to hold and cuddle with. So please find a good coping mechanism other than ignoring your emotions. It doesn't help.
With that, I'm heading off to spend some time with Dill. I'll be making a post about Taylor's birthday once it is closer. If you want me to write about something or give advice on something specific, do comment. I'll take in all considerations. This blog is for me and YOU.
My name is Pickle; I live with my boyfriend, Dill, of 3 1/2 years. To best describe this blog, it is the blog of a grieving mother who miscarried early in her pregnancy. My pregnancy. To best explain this blog, it will help if I start from the beginning.
In June 2011, Dill and I weren't the safest when it came to protection. I was on birth control, which we never knew it could fail without warning at times (and it can). I had started ovulated, which was unusual, but I didn't understand then how the bc pill worked. All I knew is that if I took it, there was supposedly a 99% chance I would not get pregnant. Thanks to this huge misunderstanding of the pill...A new chapter in both our lives opened.
About the second week of June, I began to feel off. Different. Normally I felt lonely, but I had started to feel better. I summed it up to getting over my depression. During the third week of June, I kept telling Dill, "Something is different. I don't know what, but I feel different". During the second week of June, I started spotting. The spotting continued until the third week. I now realize this was my implantation bleeding and my baby was being created.
Then I started my period later in June. Again, this was part of the implantation bleeding. Early in July, I began to cramp. It was around this time I was realizing I was pregnant. A friend mentioned my sore nipples and breasts, my sudden nausea, my sudden fatigue, and a few other symptoms. These were not normal symptoms of my period. When she mentioned the possibility, it felt right. That is why I had felt different and less alone. I was most definitely pregnant.
I tested July 9th, but it was negative. July 12th, I started bleeding heavily, yet still too light for an actual period. It was dark and clotted.
The way my symptoms were, it was a miscarriage or an early and messed up cycle. Though I know I do not have evidence - a stupid little line saying I was pregnant - I know that I was. The symptoms were out of character for my cycles, the bleeding was unusual, I had ovulated which I was not supposed to, and I just knew something was different.
It wasn't until the beginning of July when I realized I was pregnant. I immediately began thinking of a nursery, names, etc. Dill was terrified. He wanted to consider adoption, as we both disagree (for us) on abortion. He knew though, that I would never put my child up for adoption. We looked into ways we could get assistance, and I began telling him the things I wanted for the nursery. My symptoms increased during the next week, and then they suddenly stopped.
Heavier bleeding came, and the symptoms were gone. I tested again and another Negative. And only then did I begin to realize what my body had just done. I went to the doctor on one of the days I was still bleeding, and the doctor shrugged and said it could have been an early miscarriage. That was it. He said it could have been my bc pill didn't work for some reason. He mentioned antibiotics could cause it to be ineffective or less effective. And then I remembered I had been on an antibiotic the previous month. He nodded, saying that could cause break-through bleeding, or could have led to me becoming pregnant.
Then he said it could be either and not to worry about. His exact words, "If it was a miscarriage, do you really want to delve down that road? Why don't you just forget about this and move on, so you will never know." Then he left. He just told me I most likely had a miscarriage...and to forget about it.
Needless to say, I went home numb and confused. Dill was relieved, which only added to my confusion and imminent breakdown. The following weeks were hard. I still couldn't grasp the symptoms had suddenly stopped. I couldn't understand how Dill was so perfectly fine with this. And I most definitely couldn't understand my idiot doctor.
I figured out I was around 4 weeks when my baby passed. The next few months were hard. I had various breakdowns. I tried to tell my family, but they just shook their heads and said it was nothing. My counselor agreed. If the doctor said it might not have been, despite him telling me it was most likely a miscarriage, then I had never been pregnant. Especially since I didn't get a positive result.
Just because I didn't go around saying I had a pink or blue line, nobody believed it happened. If I had just said I had seen one, everyone would have been a little more understanding. But no. I knew my baby was there. The doctor said it was highly likely the baby was there. And Dill agreed the symptoms fit. Yet, nobody believed me.
It's only been the last year when I realized it's just not something people want to believe. They don't want something so sad to be true. So they blocked it out. Just like the doctor told me to do. But that's just wrong. My baby is in Heaven now. S/he will never be able to scream or yell, "I WAS HERE!". No. I have to do that for them.
A few months after the miscarriage, I begged the Lord to show me what sex my baby was. The night before, Dill and I named him/her a unisex name, Taylor Austin K. The night after my prayer, I dreamt of a dirty-blonde-haired girl running up to me, about six or seven, saying, "Mommy!". She ran into my arms and hugged me. Then I awoke.
Frog box, resembling her would-be nursery.
Taylor would have been a girl. The first girl in my family out of all of my cousins and sister. Still, to this day, the only one in my family who believes she existed is my mom, who finally realized she too had felt that 'something was different', and my dad and his girlfriend.
Dill has come around a little. He still says it may have been a blessing in disguise, which I do not agree with to an extent. Though, he is very supportive during my breakdowns. Taylor would have been born approximately March 2, 2012. We are coming up on her one-year birthday, which I am still attempting to figure out how to celebrate her.
The due date is March 2012, not May.
My blog is not just about how I have grieved, or how hard it is for me. It's to hopefully help someone going through something similar. I hope to inspire others to never give up, and to not allow society to change the way you feel or think. I knew my baby girl was here, despite many people saying she didn't exist or it didn't matter. Because I felt strongly enough about it, I feel I am stronger now, and more capable to help others.
