How do you feel?

My mama asked me this question today, 'How do you feel?' . Well, she asks me this question quite frequently but today my answer was different. It was true. I feel awesome today, I am excited about the future for so many reasons... We are almost done with the fence, I am getting a new car, we are trying for another baby, work was fun, my house is beautiful. I could go on and on! I am happy, right now, at this very moment. I am excited about the future, and I have an excellent summer to look forward to.

That led me to this epiphany... If we could go back to my life in 2009, to Lyndsey being the wife of a college stuudent (and heavy drinker), and ask my 2009 self where I would want to be at that moment, I think that 2009 Me would have wanted to be right here. I wanted to be settled, I wanted my own home, I wanted to be thinking about starting a family. If you were to erase the sadness of losing Silas from my life and put me in this same place, would I be happy? The answer is yes.

The crazy thing is that I would not be here without the experience of having and losing my child. He is what pushed us to buy our home. He was the reason for our growth as a couple and as adults. He brought us together and showed us our strengths. Because of Silas, I am happy even though I am sad.

March on

Hot flashes. Cold sweat. I wake up at 2:48 am and relive my nightmare all over. I wish that I could stop obsessing. I show up during the day, go to work, deal with drama and do my job. I come home and the silence hits me. It doesn't leave until I go to work the next day. So many nights I lay awake and think of my son.

I feel like I have failed him. I have lost myself without his presence. I find small comfort in the future and yet it feels a long way off when confronted with the reality of today. I would have liked to have handled it better, to be one of those people that changes their life and helps other going through similar pain. Instead I wallow in the emptiness I feel.

I have moments of grace. Times when I am proud of myself for my ability to council a friend, find joy in the day or call a plan to fruition. I keep trying to embrace those times and propell myself forward. My last moment of the day will forever be spent wondering "what if" and thinking about my baby. I will find a similar light in my next child but the ghost of my son will follow me wherever I go. Stronger...perhaps, but also broken in a way that cannot be healed.

We survived. Sometimes I have no idea where the year has gone. I barely remember summer, putting up the fence, tearing the bathroom apart, settling into my new home. "Celebrating" my birthday without my son. Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years. By the time people were rushing to the florist for Valentine's gifts, I was steeling myself for yet another holiday without him. Why Valentine's day, my love? Hearts, cupids, candy, cheesy ass proposals... I've always hated that shit.

The day itself was unremarkable, but there was one shining moment. My dearest little mother ordered balloons to be let go for the occasion. We went to the cemetary and watched the balloons soar together for miles... it was beautiful. And even though everyone in attendence was bereft without Silas's smiling face, we were together in the love that brought us there in the first place.

I ran into my OB nurse at the store today. She was absolutely wonderful and everytime I see her, I am reminded of the good that exists in all of us. The fact that she, and all the people that love us, recognized Valentine's day as more than a consumer holiday, means the world to me. Thank you for your support and kindness.

1 Year

Over the last year I often wondered how helpful it really is to express my most raw emotions on such a public forum. I have upset my poor mother, insighted worry about the state of my emotional health and laid bare some of my most private joys, fears and sorrow. Browsing through previous blogs have revealed a trend... I am eaither full of optimism and hope for the future or angry and resentful about my experience.

People say that the first year of grief is the hardest to face. It has been an insane and chaotic time in my life. I am reminded daily by dear friends that I try my best to stay in touch with, how different my life should be. It is not their fault that they remind me so. It is just a fact of life. Matthew and I are not alone in the burden we share, you do not get through life without tragedy and pain. That is also a fact.

A wise woman told me the other day that I should not allow myself to become bitter. It is sometimes difficult to remind myself of all the beauty that life offers in exchange for this hardship. Those who manage to accept this balance are rewarded with peace in their souls for the path they've chosen. That is what I wish for myself and those I love.

The powers that be...

I have always played loosely with the concept of God. I remember going to church on occasion with Grandma; mormon church. Long sermon (that's what you call it, right?). Welcome song in seminary... always feeling out of place. Later on, some chick wants me to attend a mormon hayride. Don't know these people, don't relate.College years, I think I am a spiritual person (what does that mean?). I think that there is something beyond this life, but what the fuck do I know?

Lose my child who saved me from the abyss... what just god would allow it? I asked myself this question tonight. What "heavenly father" would have me become pregnant with this little soul, who by his very existence saved me from all the habits and addictions that I had become dependant upon, just to leave me bereft and without the healing grace of his presence?

Not fair, is it? All these assholes with children to raise. All these assholes and their good luck. I would give anything to have my son. To have something to convince me that it is worth  the chore of waking up every day and trying to be the optimist for everyone I know. For now, I am tired, fuck all y'all. Guess you're gonna have to do it without me... I'm spent.

Silent Night...

I am sitting here in my favorite room, my living/dining room. I have been enjoying my Christmas decor and looking forward to sharing the holiday with my loved ones. I have been excited for weeks about putting up a tree and having a little holiday cheer. My first Christmas in my new home and the beginning of a few new traditions. My parents and Lacy will be at my house for Christmas morning and the unwrapping of gifts. I have to add that our upstairs bathroom will finally be functional, as we are in the last stages of our 6 month remodel project!! I remember many years in Laramie, decorating some funny tree that we found right off the road (because we were never prepared to hike into the wilderness, we found trees that were within our line of sight!) Our tree this year is beautiful and brightens my evenings and lifts my spirits.

I was running some errands this afternoon and thinking about the holiday season and how hectic life becomes with so many obligations, travel plans and expenses. Matt and I had been talking about how the holidays coincide with the darkest time of the year. It feels strange to watch the sun set behind the hills at 4:30 at night.  But in the darkness, we have created a season to celebrate the things we are grateful for, the people that we love. Trying to find the perfect present, cooking an elaborate meal, taking time to acknowledge that being alive is in itself a miracle... they are all part of a need to create light out of dark.

My mother has always written little words of affection and inspiration in our greeting cards throughout the years. Christmas, birthdays, just because, my sister and I always smile at her elegant, optimistic lines and I have many of those cards saved in shoe box in my closet. This year, she searched online for quotes that matched the individual situations and life changes that Lace and I were going through. I love the one she found for me...

Hope is like the sun, which, as we journey toward it, casts the shadow of our burden behind us.

It is true that I am not spending this holiday season (or, the past 10 months) as I had hoped and dreamed to. It is also true that everyday is an excruciating reminder that Silas is not here with us. My heart aches to think of taking family pictures for greeting cards (I didn't even muster the energy this year), watching my baby boy playing with wrapping paper and new toys on Christmas morning, delighting in his fascination with the lights and ornaments on the tree. What would it have been like to be responsible for those pictures, those memories?

 I will know the answer to those questions some day. And I will cherish it all the more for Silas and the knowledge of all the holidays and special occasions that I will miss out on with him, my first child, my beautiful son. The story of the birth of Christ is one of hope. It is fitting that the week of our Christmas celebrations coincides with the winter solstice. From this point on, there will only be more light.

Counselor

People keep telling me that I am strong. I know those words to be true but every time I hear them I think if all the weak moments that no one sees. It is sometimes necessary to put on a brave face and pretend that your only purpose is to be right here, right now. I have learned that doing just that is what allows me to face the day. Honestly, it seems that usually when I feel the need to "blog" (as the kids say) I am upset with something about my life.

So let this be my "brave face" for the day...  I woke up ready to go and hungry.I had good food to eat and Dr. Pepper to drink at work. I attenpted to be kind to people and was rewarded with kindness in turn. I accomplished a task in my household and am looking forward to curling up in bed with my husband and my cat-children. What more can a person ask?

I think that if I train myself to recognize the small gifts that each day brings, perhaps one day, I will truly believe what I say aloud. When I write, I am affirming something that my brain comprehends but that my heart does not. People are taken aback by my openess sometimes, which makes me appreciate the people I interact with on a daily basis all the more. Thankfully, I've been allowed to grieve in my own way and receive comfort from expressing my experience with people who care about me.

Shit... maybe I should be a counselor, I could put some of this "wisdom" to work!