Tough Months

Hello,

Once again I apologize for inactivity. It has been a rough and crazy few months. The holidays were exceptionally hard for me this past year for an unknown reason. Then Taylor's 2nd birthday was this past March 2nd. That was another hard one for me. Despite being busy, I've been pretty lost when it comes to giving advice on dealing with a miscarriage as I've been in deep grieving again myself.

Today, I'm still uncertain if I'm able to give the advice you need. But I wanted to update and explain why I've disappeared. Currently, I do not feel able to give advice when the advice isn't currently helping. I suppose that happens sometimes during grief, though.

I think what has brought the grief up so hard again is that Dill proposed last Christmas Day, I've been planning our wedding the last several months, we had our engagement photos done, we are planning on moving into a house in the next two years, and we have even talked about trying to start a family a year or two after the wedding.

Wonderful and amazing changes. However, sometimes it feels like all I am doing is forgetting about my lovely Taylor. I know I could never forget about her, but this planning on starting a family and doing all of this 'in order' feels like we never had a family yet. We never had Taylor.

I miss her. So much. Every day. It's hard sometimes to imagine having another child without her being here. It almost makes me feel guilty for wanting another child. For being excited to experience the full pregnancy. To be so happy on the day of our wedding and birth of our child. Though I have to remind myself Taylor is watching her Mommy, and wouldn't want me to be so sad. I try to remember to go along with my life as if she were here. Never forget her. Celebrate her.

This is why I celebrate her birthdays. I try to enjoy the holidays by remembering and honoring her. It's the only way I know how to get through this. It's how I know I would want my family to continue without me, and surely my lovely little one would want the same for her Dad and I. Remember that. Continue your life normally, but celebrate them as if they are physically here. It feels wonderful to honor them and celebrate them.

Eventually, when we have another child, we will throw actual parties with close family for Taylor. This way our second child will never forget how important their sister is. A cake, maybe some decorations, and just enjoy the day together.

I hope this helps anyone who needs it. Remember, I love comments. Ask questions. Request a post on something you need help with or are wondering about. I'll try to post through my grief. It's what I tell you guys to do, so I should follow my own advice! I'll leave you with a few more pictures of Dill and I. Happiness is still possible during grief.

Grief and Recovery

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...

It's okay.

Life is Busy Busy!

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.

Just Some Thoughts

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.

Love,

Pickle

A Year of Beginnings

Hi loves.

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. 

We, as a group, as a whole, make us strong.