So Close, And So Far Away

The time is coming up- It's edging ever closer and as the date grows closer, my anxiety is rising.

I try the breathing exercises, I try to transcend to another place, another time, but nothing takes away that longing in the pit of my stomach, that missing piece feels like it's leaving a gaping hole that is ever growing and tearing and ripping and it's taking a little more and more of me every day.  Like that hole is just leaving me open for more and more of me to fall out and disappear.

I am feeling so helpless and so frustrated.  Every child I see I want to steal, I want to grab and run away and just cuddle and hug and love and breathe in the sweet, soft, innocent smell of them.  Except my own- From her, I just want to run away and hide from because it's like she absorbs all that's left of me out and takes it as her own.  I don't even know how to explain it really- It's just.. Exhausting.

I am happy with my life right now- I truly am.  I have been blessed with one beautiful, brilliant, healthy daughter.  I have been blessed with a man who loves me beyond all rhyme or reason.  I have been blessed with this incredible career opportunity that I am trying desperately to excel in.  I am healthy, I am young(ish), and I am free.  But I have also experienced so much hurt and heartache and disappointment in this lifetime, and none of it can even scratch the surface of the pain left after Mikaela's death.

 * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

I showed off her pictures today, to a friend who had not seen them.  This set off a chain reaction in Ladybug and me-  We've both been a little off since then.  I just want to honour my child in some way, it feels like no matter what I try to do for her birthday it's not going to be enough.  That's a big part of my anxiety...  How do you celebrate a child's first day of life, anniversary of death, and Father's Day all in the same day?  And how could it ever, ever be enough.

It can't.  It could never be enough, and that's a problem for me.  It needs to be enough, for her, and for me.

But alas, we can't always get what we want- Can we?

Not Nearly Exclusive Enough

I am part of an exclusive community. A community that I never wanted to be a part of. A community that is not nearly as exclusive as it should be; one that probably every member thinks at least once, "This shouldn't even have a purpose, a reason to exist." But it does.

And this community, the people within it, are so supportive. They come from all corners of the world, from all walks of life, and they are generous and caring and compassionate about their brothers and sisters in loss. The baby loss community, the moms and dads who all feel that same sinking pain when they wake up in the morning and that sweet little baby that was all theirs is just not there, they are an incredible group of people that I never would have known existed had it not been for my sweet Butterfly.

She opened up a whole new side of the world that I was oblivious to. I thought, surely, if my daughter passes away I will be so alone in my grief. And for but a moment, I was. And then I found them- I haven't been to a meeting yet, but I will soon. The perks of living in the big city, they got shit here. Shit for everybody, for anything. Drug problems? They got meetings. Alcohol? They got meetings. Cancer? They got meetings. Your baby died in a neonatal unit or in your womb? They got meetings for that too. I love the city.

So what brought all of this up? Well, I was fiddling with Ladybug's baby book the other day, and decided yesterday that I would pull out Butterfly's Memory Book and work on that some as well- it seemed right.

And as I'm filling out these columns, dreams of you, wishes for you then, wishes for you now, letter to my baby in Heaven... My heart felt so full. I thought about all of mommies across the world who are thinking these same thoughts with me, even at that very moment. It's heartbreaking, but it's also reassuring to know that I am truly not alone. Not in my thoughts, not in my loss, not in my heart, and certainly not in my prayers.

And that's who this post is for- Whether you lost your sweet little angel at 4 weeks or at 40 weeks, I am with you, I am thinking of you, I am praying for you, and most of all, I am in this with you. So know that you are never alone in your thoughts, you are never alone in your grief nor your pain nor your hope that, "One day...".

Now, here are some links to some amazing people, groups, and organizations that have helped me, that are doing amazing things because of their loss, and hopefully these words will reach someone who is at the end of their rope, praying and crying and wondering, "Why me?" and hopefully they will be comforted and consoled and uplifted that way that I was...

Maura's Mission - Maura Lynn's Baby Loss Memorial Blocks - A free wooden block with print of your choice on 4 sides of the block.  You can upload photos of your baby, ultrasound photos, name, birthdate, pretty much anything you want, fully customized in colors and decoration.  They can also make it as an ornament for your tree if that's what you would prefer.  Also, the memory block is FREE.

Sufficient Grace Ministries - I had not yet purchased Mikaela's baby book, but I'd picked it out, knew exactly where it was and how much and how badly I wanted it.  It was beautiful.  We had Mikaela's funeral the day that we had planned to have her shower.  That was awful- But what was just as awful is that I did not have any way to put all of my feelings and pictures and wishes and wants into one place (aside from this blog, of course).  Sufficient Grace Ministries makes "Dreams of You" a memory book for our sweet lost little ones for whom an ordinary baby book would just have too many empty spaces.

M.E.N.D. Houston - Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death, Houston Chapter.  As I said earlier, I have not yet attended a meeting but I will soon.  They also have a Facebook group, so look them up :)

Carly Marie Dudley - Project Heal - Carly is a BabyLoss mom that you can also find on Facebook at her page, Carly Marie, she does some amazing graphics on Christian's Beach in Perth, Austrailia.  She also can direct you to a lot of other organizations and people around the world doing wonderful things through their child's loss.

Molly Bears - A beautiful, non-profit organization. They created weighted teddy bears to the specific weight of the baby that was lost, as a way to "fill the arms of a family in need".  I have not ordered a Molly Bear so I don't know all of the specifics, but I do follow them on Facebook and they have some truly amazing things.  Definately worth looking into for anyone with that aching feeling in their arms and against their chest late at night.

I'm sure there are many others out there, but these are a few of the ones that I have come across that I truly think are doing amazing things, and the really amazing part about it, is all of these organizations were created for (and some even named after) the babies that were lost.

     My fingers tingle when I feel the place
    Where your footprints have been.
    Those 5 tiny toes - -
    I never got to see all ten.
   And the worst part of it all -
   Is that I can't even imagine
   What our lives would be like
   If you were still here...

                  My sweet girl,
                        My everything,
                                  My Butterfly
                            With Angel's Wings....

Location, Location, Location

We've all heard it, right?  The biggest most important factor in any type of real estate, be it commercial or residential, buying, selling or opening of any kind-

Location, Location, Location.

Well some people just take it a little too far.  When you're in a larger town, with plenty of small shopping centers all over the place, you don't really think about whether that small business owner or large company put a lot of thought into nearby businesses.  Maybe they do?  I'm not sure because I've never looked into any of that kind of stuff because I'm just your average worker bee.  But today, today was just a slap in the face and I have not been able to stop thinking about it.

We drive about 30 minutes into a nearby college town, and I'm taking in the scenery.  I mean, we went there to go to walmart and to go get me some Wing Stop, but STBH decides he wants a mustard pizza from Dominoes and the journey began.

As we're pulling into the Dominoes parking lot, I see a sign that reads "The Mom and Tot Shop"- A consignment boutique (read: Resale/Thrift Store) that offers children's, junior's, and maternity clothes.  A pretty cool idea, and I'm thinking if it's open, I would like to browse a bit while we wait on the pizza.

And then I see the "Planned Parenthood" building.  I know this is a controversial topic and I'm not trying to take either side, that's not what this post is about.  This planned parenthood building's entrance is, seriously, 3 feet across the sidewalk from the entrance to the boutique.  Three freaking feet dude.

And my mind is racing, my heart is pounding, I am laughing out loud and STBH (Soon-To-Be-Hubs, aka Mark) is looking at me as if I have lost my mind.  I guess I just assumed Planned Parenthood was there first?  But my mind, it's still racing.

• When the owner of this shop picked this place- Was PP there already?
• The owner of the boutique, was he/she thinking, "Hey, that's not cool.  Maybe someone should show them that it's not all bad".
• A decision making, life-altering crossroads at the sidewalk near Dominoes- Explore your choices, know your options, all conveniently located.
• Sure, raising a child is expensive and selfless and takes an enormous amount of love and care and time and support- But look at these cute freaking onsies.  For reals.

I went on and on about this.  Seriously, for about 20 minutes to the poor STBH and he just shook his head the whole time, laughing, probably at how easily entertained I am, but still!!!
They must have planned that.  One or the other.  Like, "Well, we know what they're offering you on the other side of the sidewalk, but come in here for a minute and just you and me talk...."

"I know, that seems a lot easier.  But have you just ssseeeennnnn the adorable clothes they have for babies!?  And clothes for you too, young college girl- Just come see.  Just for a minute..."

Maybe I'm reading too much into this, but I don't believe in those types of coincidences- I just don't.  Not even a little bit.

What do you think?  Clever realtor?  Cruel joke?  Or am I just too damn bored and need to get a hobby?  Feel free to weigh in!!!

Creepy Creepy Shit

Do your kids do some shit sometimes where you're just like, what in the fuck am I looking at?

I go into Ladybug's room, and over in the corner there's this pile of toys.  Not just toys though, headless dolls.  A stack of naked, headless dolls.  So I'm like, wow, that shit's creepy.  But then I turn and I see this:

Puppets... They're just puppets...

This is normal, right?  I seriously can't be the only person with a 4-year-old who is stripping and decapitating dolls, then sticking their heads on sticks and waving them in the air...
I'm not the only one.... Right!?!?!?!

I don't think I can afford therapy right now for her, so seriously.  Somebody, tell me this is normal.

Apocalypse Dream

Man.

For reals.

I need to see one of those dream analysts or something.  I dream, a lot.  Usually these really trippy things that when I wake up I feel out of breath but I cannot for the life of me remember even the slightest detail about my dream.  But last night, last night was different.  It was frightening.  I woke up in a cold sweat and feeling exhausted and ready to hide under the bed and cry for a while.

The dream started out simple enough- I was in Houston (I don't live there yet, but the plans are in motion and we will be getting our move on within the next week or two).  So, I was in Houston, in this big pretty skyscraper building, with glass windows all the way around one side, looking into downtown.  And I was surrounded by people, people from my past that I vaguely recognize now that I'm awake but in my dream were complete strangers.  These were people who I truly never expect to see again, they are quite distant memories and most of them are from a time in my life where, how can I put this... I never knew most of their "real" names.  Can I just leave it at that?  Great, thanks :)

So there's this lady with twin girls (in real life she had twin boys) and I asked her their names, and she couldn't remember one of the daughter's name but the other was something that started with a "C" (I don't remember).  Hope that wasn't one of those key points that could unfold the hidden truth of my experience. Moving on.  The lady also has another child I think, a very short one with this adorable little afro.  Too cute.

So we put all the kid's into bed and Ladybug is there and she's fast asleep and I'm standing by the windows, looking out at the city when I see this falling star.  I point it out to my friend with the red hair (alias: Phoenix), this girl whom I have not seen nor heard from nor thought of in about 5 years.  And she just blows it off, like it is nothing.  And I continue to watch, and it continues to get bigger and brighter and closer and then suddenly it's falling straight down, straight into the middle of the city and oh-so-close to this huge building that I am in, made almost entirely of glass and what feels like hundreds of stories up.

So it's falling, and I'm panicking inside, I can feel my heart racing and my breath is heavy and then like a bomb that falling star hits, straight down in the middle of all those buildings that I'm looking out into, and it's like a nuclear blast, the mushroom cloud blowing  up into the sky and watching the windows in buildings blowing out, the wave getting closer and closer to me.  I can feel the heat on my face while I'm looking at this through the window and gasping and pulling for people's attention in the building.  The red haired friend and that lady with the children and me, all alone in this skyscraper watching Houston falling apart and catching fire.

this is almost exactly what my dream looked like. creepy.

Then these other women finally notice what is happening and panic ensues.  We're running around, somebody get the children, somebody get supplies.  Somebody get water.  Somebody grab a phone.  I am pulling Aleigh by her foot down the bed towards me, trying not to yell "Wake up, Wake up Bug, get up get up we gotta go we gotta go."  And she's being her usual just-waking-up self, stink-eyeing me like I'm the devil in disguise ( I know that look well, I get it every morning).  So the red haired woman is saying, "Look, there's already a plane flying over us.  They're checking to make sure we're okay."  And I look up (because suddenly I guess there is not a roof on the building? Or maybe we made it up to the roof and I just don't realize? It's a dream, go with it.)  And so I look up and I see this little light streaking across the sky, but then it disappears.  And suddenly another little streak, and another, and another, and before I know it the whole sky is filled with these little streaks of light flying in every direction some short and some long and I realize that it's all falling stars.  Little ones, that are burning up, but I'm filled with panic and sorrow and fear and I rush to fill up a bag with food so that we can get downstairs, get into a basement or a cellar.  The other women are putting all of the children into a shopping cart together and we're going to just carry the cart full of children (like, 6 or 7 in total because apparently children clone themselves in their sleep? IDK) and I'm stuffing all types of stuff into my bag and I'm seeing this fire getting closer and closer and then suddenly--

I'm awake.


Where's Freud when you need him?

You're Pissing Me Off - Part 1

So since I'm full of frustration and anger at some random (and some not so random) groups of people tonight, and since I get this feeling on a pretty regular basis, I'm going to start a series, called "You're Pissing Me Off"...

For Part 1 I'm choosing people that need to be taken out back behind a tool shed, blind folded, covered in lemon juice and beaten with a whip until they black out and then are buried alive with nothing but a few gallons of water a couple loaves of bread and a long bendy straw sticking out of the ground to breathe through.

Only then will they be prevented from further pissing me and the other good not-such-complete-and-total-fucking-pricks type of people in this beautiful world of ours.  Let's being:

1) A faker- A liar, a phony...  People who are only around you because you have something to offer them or you have something that they desire and then whenever you stop providing whatever it is they are after, suddenly they are just too busy or too sick or too WHAT THE FUCK EVER to come around.  Fuck these people.  Hard.  With no lube.  And, good riddance.

2)  The "Victim" - You know the type, the one who is a grown ass man/woman that is fully in charge of his/her own life and his/her own choices, but no matter what happens they are the victim.  They are the one who is so mistreated and has just gotten the shit end of the stick and they just can't believe how poorly they are being treated.  Here's a clue for ya prick, since you can't seem to get one on your own; Maybe, people wouldn't kick you to the curb or "mistreat" you or "abandon" you if you would just once in a while take a little responsibility for the things you do and say.  Stand behind your actions for once in your fucking life and admit, "Hey, I messed up."  You're not the fucking "victim of circumstance"- You are the sole creator of those circumstances and while you are sitting with your head hanging low and feeling sorry for yourself take a moment to consider the way you are making the people feel who have no choice but to turn their backs on you because of the way you behave.  Grow the fuck up, have some dignity, and if you're not fucking happy about where you're at in life, then DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT!!!!

3)  Grown-Ups that can't follow simple directions.  Or worse, grown-ups that intentionally do something incorrectly over and over and over again in hopes that you will stop asking them to do it at all.  I mean, it's bad enough when a kid or a teenager does it, but for reals homie, you are a grown-ass man/woman, do what you need to do.  Get the fuck over it.

copyright- who knows... courtesy of Google Image Search

4)  People who misspell memes and ecards and other graphic thingies that go viral on FB or whatever.  Gah, that shit just gives me a twitch.

So- What pisses YOU off!?!?!

The Angry Post

deviantart - girandzim111

I am angry.  I am angry at the world, I think, but mostly I am angry at the State of Texas.   I am angry at all of it's red tape and all of it's legally binding forms.  I am angry at the loops and flaming hoops I am being forced to jump through to complete a seemingly simple task.  I am angry at all of the bureaucratic bullshit that I am having to wade through to get something taken care of, something that is already emotionally and mentally exhausting.



newborn ladybug - very very angry...

I am not just angry.  I am pissed off.  Livid.  Enraged.  Furious.  Pugnacious- That's a good one.  I am ready to bite someone's head off.  I am bursting into tears every time I speak to one of these robot-voiced asshats who don't give a damn about what I'm going through, what I'm dealing with, how long I've been waiting.  They don't care- And then I start crying and I'm apologizing to these assbags that I really want to scream and yell and curse at, and they're sighing and sounding all annoyed because I'm being a tad emotional.



1y5m ladybug - snotty-faced angry

First it started with the birth certificate- I wanted Mark's name to be on our daughter's birth certificate.  This is his first, and perhaps only, child.  No, technically it doesn't matter that his name isn't there, but it matters to me.  And he won't admit it, but I know it must matter to him.  I can see it in his eyes.  There is no reason his name should not be on the birth certificate, unless you ask the State.  According to them, me being married to someone else, despite how long we have been seperated, despite Mark and I both there willing to sign legal documents stating paternity, no- No, Mark cannot be on the birth certificate until I go jump through a flaming death hoop.


"Get online, find the forms, get them notarized.  Oh, no, not that form the other form.  It should have a spot for the notary to notarize it.  Oh it does.  Yes, I know you're looking at the form and it says it's the correct form but I'm at my desk in my big fancy government office and I'm telling you that I make the rules and the rules say figure it out."




 2 mo - "Don't worry mom, I'll shoot 'em the bird for ya!!!"

Screw it.  I will get it changed some other time.  Later on, down the road.  It took me 7 months before I finally went and got a "Certified Copy" of my deceased daughter's birth certificate, with only my name listed as a parent.  I don't even have her original birth certificate.  I'll never have an "original" birth certificate.  And that makes me angry.

Well now, I'm thinking, geez, why haven't I gotten a death certificate yet?  I know I paid for 2 certified copies of it- Yet I haven't received either.  So I'm speaking with the nice ladies at the funeral home and nobody can figure out why the stupid death certificate is in State of Texas Purgatory, just waiting in limbo caught between the doctor's certification and signature, and the State's official seal of approval before being mailed to me.  So after over a week of back-and-forth phone calls between myeslf and the funeral home and the delivering doctor's assistant, finally we get it finalized.  Great, it will be here by Tuesday, at the latest.

Oh, and then Thursday arrived, Thursday arrives and I get a phone call from the funeral home.  They don't know why, but apparently when a death certificate gets finalized so far past the date of death, the State doesn't automatically send out the death certificate like they normally would.  You have to call them and actually ask them to send it out.  Isn't that just grand?  Isn't that so fucking peachy that the system works so fucking smoothly like that?  So the lady from the funeral home is apologizing, profusely, that they've never had this happen before.  That they should have done something sooner, that I shouldn't have had to call and ask them to figure it out-  That was their job.  They should have done it.  And I am not upset with them at all, and I try to convey to them that my incessant phone calls and heavy sighs are not due to an oversight on their part- That it's just frustration with everything in general.  I tell them over and over again how thankful I am for their patience with me, and for all of their help.  In the back of my mind, I'm wondering if their seemingly genuine apologies and extra effort to help me is becaues they really are that nice, because they really are that helpful, and really that courteous.... Or is it just to save face, because they are 1 out of 2 funeral homes in the area and they don't want to lose a potential future customer due to these circumstances?  I choose to believe they are genuine, if for no other reason than to salvage what little bit of hope and patience and feel-good I have left inside me right now.

Moving on.

So I speak with the Medicaid office-  See, I was on Medicaid while pregnant with Mikaela (thankfully, or I never could have afforded the amazing specialists and doctors that I had during my pregnancy, but that's neither here nor there).  So when a pregnant lady is on medicaid, the baby is automatically put on Medicaid when born-  It took me months of calling the Health & Human Services Commission to get them to stop sending me medicaid cards for my deceased child.   Anyhow, I get the bright idea to get something printed out from HHSC, since it's a State Service, it's a State Document, and I should be able to use that as Mikaela's 2nd form of identity in order to get her social security number and card to be able to file her on my taxes.  I call the HHSC office and get put on hold 4 times, trying to verify before driving 30 minutes to the office with no driver's license, that I can, in fact, get something confirming that Mikaela is in fact a real person, and was in fact born in 2012.  Eventually, I get the answer I've been looking for- Yes, they can do that.

Fantastic.

Just to double check myself, I once again call the social security office to make sure that what I'm trying to do will work-  I have the birth certificate and something from Medicaid can be used as a 2nd form of identity.  I am on hold for nearly 20 minutes, but that's okay.  I expected it, actually, and I'm just relieved to be making progress.  Then, the lady on the other end of the line tells me that no, something like that would not be acceptable as second form of identity.  And, to make matters worse, she informs me that they are unable to issue a social security number to someone who is already deceased.  Now, why the other people I've talked to at that stupid administration could not tell me this, I am completely unsure.  At this point,  I am sniffling and failing miserably at holding back tears as I'm trying to explain to this lady that I'm sorry, I'm not upset with her, I'm just frustrated and I'm overwhelmed and that I just don't know what else to do.  She is repeating herself, "Ma'am- Ma'am I am trying to help you if you would just listen..." and although I'm not saying anything, she keeps asking me to listen.  Like my sniffling is making me deaf?  Sorry, lady, just say what you gotta say.  I'm trying my best here.

She tells me to call the IRS directly-  Of course she doesn't have their phone number, but if I just look them up online and get the number, call them and ask them what I need to do.  Alright- Another toll-free number, another automated messaging system telling me to press 1 for whatever and then * for whatever so  i just keep pressing buttons it doesn't name off until it finally gets pissed off and connects me to an operator (shhhh... that's my secret system, don't tell anybody).

I am, of course, on hold for upwards of half an hour.  Again, I expected it.  I'm relieved, the music is not quite as annoying as it normally is and I just sit back with the phone on speaker and continue to work on this post about being pissed off at all the red tape and what not.

I explain everything to the lady once she picks up-  My voice is shaky and I'm not even trying to hide how truly overwhelming this entire process has been for me.  I am stressed just about to my breaking point and I don't care who knows it.  She tells me that there is a chance that the IRS will deny my right to file her as a dependant because she passed away so soon after birth.

But then, something amazing happened-  She asked if she could put me on hold while she got out her big book of IRS secrets (my words, not hers)- She wanted to "research" (her words) what exactly I needed to do to file Mikaela on my taxes.  And she tells me that I don't need a social security number for her, nor do I need her death certificate.  All I need is proof that she was born, alive, in 2012, i.e. - a birth certificate.  I am elated- this is the best news I have had in weeks, and I tried my best to convey to her exactly how thankful I was that she took the time to look it up and explain it to me and was so unexpectedly helpful and nice and cheerful and patient.

I like the IRS.  At least, I like the fact that not everyone who works for them is some stuck up snooty pencil pusher with nothing better to do than pick on and bully the good honest working people of this country.  It's enlightening!

So for now, I am still angry, but only a little.  I am still angry at the State of Texas for making every little thing so damned difficult that you'd almost rather give up and live under a rock than take care of business.  But, I know, now, what to do if I am ever put in this circumstance again-  God willing this will become useless knowledge to me....