There’s this place in a marriage where you accept what you did. I can’t call it settling because that’s unkind. My husband loves me deeply. He does a fuck Ton he really doesn’t want to do because he loves me. He doesn’t look at other girls. But for fucks sake does he hold my hand? Does he care for me like i need? Hell no. I am not “happy” he doesn’t hug me, snuggle me, dote on me. But he loves me. Just in that god damn way i have no control of. I can rationally see it but it still leaves an ache in me so deep it breaks me
After i had Rowan, i learned to care differently. Not less or more. Just a change in direction. I no longer cared as much what i looked like, but rather how i felt. I no longer cared as much who i was with, but how they treated me. I lost my ability to give fucks about things like sleep, no matter how much i miss it, because time is different now. I hope to high heaven that i live to be a hundred and get to watch every part of her life unfold, but if i don’t, i care about her so deeply, that she will always know how much she is loved. I don’t care about going places, as much as i care about the experience we have while we are there. I don’t care so much about perfect pictures as i do about capturing moments i want to keep forever. I just care differently now.
Our world turned upside down last June. It’s been almost a year and i am overwhelmed with emotions. Grief is so consuming. My heart is broken for the loss in our family. I am sad and so very angry. My husband will never be the same. I’m overcome by selfish pain because my focus has been to care for my husband and sweet girl. As we come up on the anniversary, i am so filled with fear. Of losing my own husband. I spoke this weekend with a dear friend about how fucked up it is that i would never fear to lose him to another woman, but instead to the hands of death. I need him here. I still don’t understand how any of it has happened. I want to write a book called The Outsiders Grief. My loss is nothing compared to my sister in law, my mother in law, my husband, his sister. But it is here. It is a weight that flipped the world upside down. My daughter won’t know one of the most wonderful men I’ve ever met. I want to lay on the floor for a week. I want to turn back time more than anything. But i can’t. And it so consuming. Maybe if i wrote the book this summer, it would allow me some peace. A cathartic release about this journey. Life will never be the same. But i have to do something. I cannot sit and let it fester. Our lives have got to continue forward. Our marriage has become stronger. We have learned to speak, to understand, to ask for what we need. To give each other space but still hold on so tightly. It’s so consuming right now. I keep feeling like i am on a train track running next to the rest of the family- trying to keep mine running smoothly (and struggling to) while i race along next to them. I can see them all struggling as well, but i never have the right words. Are there “right” words after death? Is there any salve to calm such an extensive hurt. We have the ability to be so thankful that we were given the chance to know someone so wonderful. To carry them with us. To honor them. My donut obsession is an homage to my grandfather who made my life so wonderful. He died over 15 years ago and i still cry for the loss. That was a different kind of traumatic death. Not like this. This is different. Being a wife, a sister, a daughter in law is a journey in itself. But to struggle through loss and never feel like you know how to act or know what to say is….. something that drives my anxiety to a point where my body feels electrified. I will continue to do my best. To breathe. To find ways to be there, and care in my own way. Even if it feels like I’m on the outside of the window…. somehow it’s raining on both sides, and it feels like my umbrella just won’t open right now. The best i can do is the best i can do. I’m sending love to those falling through grief, struggling to breathe. Get up again, find joy after the tears. Let the water wash away the pain and then honor the life. Keep going.
Hello! I’ve been away for some time from my blog. We got married, we got stuck in a hurricane on our honeymoon in September and fast forward to Christmas, we found out I was having a baby. It’s been a rollercoaster to say the least. I spent most of 2014 trying to get my body to be well enough to enjoy my wedding. My chronic migraine treatment was intense. Then as soon as we got home from our wicked and wonderful retreat to Mexico, where I was forced to wean off many medications due to being stranded without them (or power, or running water….) I went off all medications completely. I’ve always wanted children. My mom had a horrible time getting and staying pregnant and I always assumed the same would be true for me. I am 30 years old, let’s take out the goalies and see what happens we said! It will probably take awhile we said! Ha! We were blessed ever so quickly with the news that a baby girl was going to join us by our first wedding anniversary.
Like many chronic migraine sufferers, I dreamed of a reprieve during pregnancy. That has not been the case. I am hyper mobile in most joints- I have never been diagnosed with Ehlers-Danlos officially but that is what my current doctor is leaning towards. The hormones in pregnancy have made most of my issues worse, not better. My joints are ‘slipping’ out of place easier, I’m seeing the chiropractor every 2 weeks instead of every few months and my migraines, although less frequent/severe, still come. Sigh.
My workouts have had to change. I still teach but no longer as much. I am currently teaching 2 barre, 3 yoga, and one bootcamp regularly. I can no longer do the majority of the bootcamp. I found that my hips would come out of place. Barre, with its small isometric movements has been my best option.
I am frustrated to say the least. I am taking magnesium to help with headaches and when absolutely necessary having tylenol, a cup of coffee, and ice pack and rest….. but for all you migraine sufferers out there, you know how little that actually does.
I am angry with myself. I wanted to be pregnant and have a baby for so long in my life that I told myself I would always enjoy it, no matter how dreadful pieces can be. And I’m failing at that. My first trimester was miserable with nausea that wouldn’t quit, could wake me from my sleep. Now my second trimester almost finished, I am striving to just find joy in each day… which is her- her kicks usually or spending time in her baby room trying to find simple ways to make it beautiful. I’m getting pain in my hands & wrists, even though I’ve gained very little weight…. trying desperately to get my mind to be ok.
I’m thankful I’m able to be active. I teach. I walk my pup. I got in the pool last week, I’ll do that again this week.
I’ll keep trying. I’ll keep trying to be well. For me and for her.
I will remember that not all days will be good and to do what I can, when I can.