Monday night I went to group at the hospital.
Since Tim is in NY this week for work,
I went alone to see and talk with the nurse that was with us the night Will passed.

Monday night was hard...
we talked about Mother's Day.
And of all the things I talk about and want to talk about,
this is one thing that brings me so much pain...
I can't even go there yet.

I know that Will has a special place in so many hearts...
especially his nurse's.
So she gave us an opportunity to do something.
In a few weeks, Tim and I will speak on a parent panel
about Will to a group of healthcare professionals as a part of their ongoing training.
Hard?
Yes...
but also partly healing.

The bereavement coordinator gave me a list of questions...
they are interesting and I thought that I might put them,
along with my answers,
on this blog.

Its all part of the journey.

So as I get ready to fly to New York on Friday,
my mind is more than ready for a change of scenery.
My motto for a long time (way before all this) has always been,
when you just can't take it anymore (life that is)
jump on a plane at go somewhere.

And it always works.
I have no doubt that starting Friday,
our trip will change this family's outlook greatly.

Sunshine

I'm so psyched...
its 80 here today!!
YAY.

I can't tell you how good it feels to lay outside in the sun.
Sophie is pretty pleased too.
This weather was much needed.

We are just getting ready to send Tim off to the east coast on Sunday.
He'll be gone all week and then I'll meet him in NYC on Friday.
So...
a week from now I'll be strolling around Times Square.
This is too exciting to put into words.

Especially given the rough month April has been.
I swear there are moments where I am going to
wake up in a straight jacket.
But I'm probably the only one to admit that in writing...

seasons

A year in pictures.

When I first got the nerdy idea,

I was so excited to do this.

And when I began to post them,

something strange happened.

I got irritated.

Here are these pictures,

proof that time has passed,

proof that things have changed...

but to me,

its all still the same.

Because, when I look at those pictures I don't see what other people see.

In the spring picture?

I see the view I had, as I laid in bed with Will and prayed that the doctors would be wrong. I see the leaves starting to bud, the deer coming out, and I remember telling him everything that was in his backyard. I remember...not being alone.

The summer picture?

I remember this view from the window, as I laid there and cried with Tim. Being home from the hospital, sore, stitched up and numb with pain and grief...wondering just how I was going to stay alive...

With fall, I tried so hard to get myself on a routine. But I found myself in such a weird situation. A teacher with no classroom.

A mother with no child.

And as the leaves changed, I would stare at the woods from my window...and just wonder.

Wonder how this would all work out.

Then there was winter.

It embodied how I felt. And as I stared out the window in December during the first big snowfall, it just felt all wrong. I should have been there, snuggled in front of the tree with our son...

And now,

suddenly,

its spring again.

Has anything worked out?

Uh, no.

Every single day

is a battle...not to give up.

To keep the faith,

to know that sooner or later

things have to get better.

But then again,

maybe they won't.

I don't know, is there any rule that says

anything gets better after something like this happens?

Maybe when I stop expecting it to get better...

that strange pressure and expectation will go away.

And with each day, there will be small changes in me.

But they will be so small, I won't see them.

Until I look back, like I'm doing with these pictures.

And when I put it all together

and line it all up...

I will finally see it,

and realize...

that I have come far,

in so many ways.

4.17.09

Nine months ago the weather was about the same.

Today could nearly pass for July...

Not a cloud in the blue sky

and its over 70 degrees.

To me

it still seems like yesterday.

I guess it probably always will.

The nicer weather helps and hurts at the same time...

before we know it

it will have been a year.

This is still so crazy to me.

The words have been hard to find this week.

That's okay.

I just tell him 

I love him

and miss him...

with my tears.

Some old person left this here...

No.

This is not my pill organizer.

I am not 29....

going on 79 years old.

How did this happen?

Oh right...

it helps me to remember the butt-load of random things I need to take in an attempt to maybe have a fighting chance at a normal pregancy.

I took this picture as proof,

so whatever children I may be blessed with...

they can see just what I had to endure to get them here.

How sad.

At least its a cool color...

Still trying to laugh

when I really want to cry.

Easter weekend

I'm on my 2nd can of Diet Dr. Pepper today.

And in front of me,

sits a Morningstar Veggie Burger.

What can I say?

Even slathered with thousand island dressing and cheese...

it sure ain't In-n-Out.

A piece of cheese just went into the keyboard...

awesome.

Why am I typing this?

I don't know...

maybe because I really have nothing else to write.

Maybe after a long, beautiful weekend with my husband...

it is now a lonely, cold and cloudy Monday.

And while everyone is back to work,

I want to be,

but here I sit.

I know most would love to be able to stay home.

But not me.

Being home leaves me with too much time to think.

And on days like today...
I swear I could close my eyes,

jump on a plane

and land back in LAX like all of this has been a bad dream.

Yesterday was a beautiful Easter day.

And I found myself sitting in a place I haven't given much thought too.

It was kind of time-warpish.

Is that a word?

Whatever.

When Tim & I were making plans to get married.

No one would marry us in Western MI without counseling first.

Ha. Us?

They didn't care that he was in the Marines,

in another state,

possibly going to war.

Oh no.

We almost didn't get married...

Then I remembered the little white church my family went to

when I was young.

This place is straight out of a Norman Rockwell book.

Classic white church.

On the corner.

Same fixtures and stained glass for decades.

That was where we ended up getting married,

on a frigid cold day in December.

I haven't give much thought to it since.

Until Sunday.

When my family decided to go there for Easter services.

And as I walked in,

I felt the rest of the world fade away.

Nothing had changed.

Nothing.

Nothing except for us it seemed.

The sanctuary was brightened by the warm yellow

of the sun through the stained glass...

and sitting there were the same people

that went there when I was just a little kid.

Still going there, every Sunday, just as they had for years...

it was peacefully familiar.

And then my mind started to wander,

to how we were here just 7 years ago.

When we last stood in here we had no idea of what was to come.

If someone would have told me

I would be back living here,

just a few miles away.

I would never have believed it.

Much less any of the other things that have also happened since.

And as strange as it seems,

this no longer feels like home.

At least not the way I had thought it would.

In CA, I was known as the teacher from MI...

and here?

You guessed it.

The teacher from CA.

Belonging no where.

Yet from everywhere...

And as I looked at all the other people sitting there,

I know that won't be me.

The rest of the world is way too interesting.

And as I look at our Easter picture,

taken on the front steps of a house we bought...

to grow old in,

to raise our family in,

to stay put in,

something is missing...

well, besides our stupid dog who was too preoccupied with a toy to listen...

This house,

this place...

none of it holds the possibilities it once did for me.

In fact,

I would now welcome a change.

And once again I am reminded to never say never...

about all sorts of things.

I need to find my own way.

Somewhere with no memories

of war...

of friends that never came home...

of sitting alone in a hospital room...

of where Will was supposed to be with us.

I'm just looking for some place...

some place I can sit and be content,

and not be reminded about

what could have been.

spring blah

This week is spring break here.

So that means everyone is gone to Florida...

literally, the roads are empty.

Since I have those tests coming up,

I've been trying to study.

Its crap.

Studying when you are old

is so overrated.

In fact, studying for a job that doesn't exist...

makes it even more stupid.

Yet, here I am.

Is that having hope...or being in denial?

So I've distracted myself

with a little cleaning...

with facebook (which I am realizing that I absolutely hate for reasons I will never tell to anyone)

and putting up some Uppercase Living expressions I bought.

They turned out pretty good...

I'm thinking that Sophie loves hers:)

But now I have something to look forward to:

New York City.

Words cannot express how excited I am.

Tim has to go for work at the end of the month,

I am going to fly out and meet him for a long weekend.

So I guess I won't pout about being stuck here this week.

This trip is long overdue.

But still, this week is starting to drive me insane.

I decided that one of two things has to happen

or I'll officially lose it...

either a job presents itself

or a baby does.

And since I didn't win the lottery yesterday,

which is the first ticket I have EVER purchased

(that would have been a great story, even if I had won $5...)

I can't just flit around and pretend its going to be okay.

After a year,

I'm almost ready to give up on this state.

Go elsewhere for a job.

But the thing is,

I know what job I want...

to be a mom,

yet,

that hasn't presented itself either.

I'm still determined to keep it together,

to see these troubles

as opportunities,

as times that will shape me.

Who knows why things happen to way they do.

I gave up a long time trying to figure that one out...

which is why I put that other expression above my bedroom door.

So its the last thing I see before going to bed,

and the first thing I see at the start of each new day.