Its my pity party and I'll cry if I want to.

I have had a lot of word vomit lately and it seems like I can’t get everything out the way I want it to sound without doing what I do best….writing.

 

(Well, not what I do best, but the best way I know how to communicate)

 

Let’s face it: I’m a crier. One of the many characteristics and traits that I have come to acknowledge and accept over the years. I get upset, I cry. I get overwhelmed, I cry. I get really ticked off and I cry. When I can’t put thoughts to words, it all comes out in tears.

 

When 3am came along this morning and I was still staring at my computer working, I felt the tears welling up in my eyes. Nighttime has been really hard for me since the twins died. For many different reasons though….

 

After they died, I had nightmares where I relived the operating room where I had to have a D&C because of the blood loss after the boys. I would close my eyes and all I could see was the big round BRIGHT lights in the OR. The pressure of the babies laying on my chest while I was having surgery cut off my pattern of breathing. It was so heavy on my chest. I would relive every moment and I could hear every word so vividly. I remember Nancy, our nurse tell my sister who was in the room with me at the time-that we could no longer wait for the Dr, I had lost too much blood and we had to go to the OR right then. I remember hearing everyone wrestling around me. I remember the drug doctor standing at my head rubbing my head and telling me that he wasn’t going to leave me. He kept saying, Keep your eyes open and stay with me. It seems like every time I fell asleep, a new part of that experience would play over in my head.

 

When I got pregnant with Maddox, I didn’t sleep for fear that something would happen to him in the middle of the night and I wouldn’t notice. The first weeks were so hard because every twinge I felt something was wrong. Then when he started to move and I was feeling him regularly, I panicked if I went 15 minutes without a movement, so sleeping just didn’t happen. After he died, I couldn’t get out of bed, but I certainly couldn’t sleep.

 

Things were never going to be “normal” again, this was a reality.

 

I remember like it was yesterday, the day things turned upside down in my marriage. I remember a 49ers came on TV, I remember having a conversation with my then husband. The next thing I can recall was sitting on a friends porch completely dehydrated from crying, smoking one after another and not being able to form words. I do remember kissing my boys goodbye and leaving the house because I needed to get out. I felt like the entire house was caving in on me.

 

Needless to say-this started an entirely new cycle of no sleep.

I went through the strange emotions that come along with separation. I started (and stayed in for a long time)-the Anger phase.

I feel like I probably did a lot of denial as well. I made excuses and tried to “understand” how things ended up the way they had. I tried to be understanding and I tried to be empathetic to the unhappiness, but I don’t know that I ever really FELT those emotions. 

I know I blamed myself relentlessly. It was exactly at the moment that I drove away that night, that it hit me. THIS was ALL my FAULT.

 

I lost our children, I lost my ability to be a good wife, mom and friend. I was no longer the person my husband had married and I was no longer what he needed in his life. It was MY fault.

 

I think I stayed in that place until probably within the last 3-6 months. I still feel that way some days, but I can more easily talk myself OUT of that now.

 

I have had to swallow a lot of pride in the last 18 months and a LOT of nasty words. I normally don’t hold my tongue well, so for me to be able to just shut up, grin and stay polite, has proved to be very challenging at times.

 

I am the type of person (as I have learned) that really is a nice person, deep down. At the core, I have compassion and empathy for people. I feel often misunderstood and so that person that I used to be more comfortable showing, is hidden more. On the surface, I try to be calm and mature and sensitive to things. This has proven to be a fault though because I am often trampled on.

 

I am really happy that my ex-husband has moved on. I couldn’t have asked for a better woman to be in my kids’ lives. She treats them like they are her own & at the end of the day, the safety and happiness of my kids is ALL that matters.

But, this is my blog, and it’s my place to heal and provide myself the outlet to therapatize my feelings ( like my word?)

 

It sucks people. It’s hard!

 

I couldn’t imagine our lives without her now. She’s good to the boys, she a genuine person, she is a great mom to her son and she appears to be a very loyal and positive person for my ex-husband. HOW I FEEL does not directly associate with her. SO, please do not read into that. It also doesn’t reflect my feelings on my ex-husband. He and I get along just fine and for that, I am grateful.

 

I have felt more recently, that divorce wasn’t really a decision. Separation was a decision and it was a necessary one. But I feel like divorce just kind of became the easy answer. I know looking back, I could not have done any more to save my marriage. I probably should have done less and would have gotten better results. But, In a desperate time of saving what I thought was my happiness, I did everything I knew to do, to try to keep it together. I have no doubt in his ways, he did as well. We were just different people, in different emotional times in our marriage and lives and what we went through can tear anyone apart. Trust me. I could never imagine a more perfect person to be my first husband. My high school sweetheart and the father of my boys.

 

With that being said, you can imagine how difficult it is now for me to see him in a relationship. (again, Love her, so do not think this has anything to do with her). They complement each other. They have been VERY respectful to me and have no flaunted their relationship or lives in front of me, which I have appreciated. But, as the ex-wife that was completely caught off guard with the divorce after everything else….it’s been very difficult for me to handle.

 

The single parenting I think is what is the hardest for me.

I can’t actually say I am a SINGLE parent. Yes, I am single and yes I am a parent, but he is also a parent to the kids. He’s not an absent father. (Again, another thing to be grateful for). He is an excellent dad and always has been. I have no doubt he will continue TO be to our children and any other future children he may or may not have.

 

But, for sake of making up another word for it. I’ll go with single parenting.

 

My typical day starts around 5:01am.  (yes, off #. I can’t set an alarm to an even #. It has to be odd-you can call me crazy if you want)

Sometimes, when I can, I hit the snooze and my day starts at 5:23.

I get up and shower (assuming the baby isn’t up).

I sit down and read my devotional and have about 5 minutes of quiet time. Caleb’s alarm goes off, I go wake him because he doesn’t hear the alarm, I manage to get him up and moving.

The baby cries, I go get him, that takes 10-15 minutes because we have to stretch, and talk and change diaper and clothes and get milk. (which I love doing with him).

Then it’s time to get Isaac. That takes a hurricane, a gavel, an act of congress, the baby, cold hands, tickled feet and finally a song from FROZEN to make him roll over.

Then Shelby is doing the peepee dance. So, Shelby goes out-comes in, gets fed, goes back out.

 

By then, I’ve showered, but haven’t dried my hair or gotten dressed. It’s 6:45 and we need to be on the move.

 

Get Caleb’s medicine in him. Get Evan something to snack on, Get bookbags ready, lunches done, my stuff packed. I make a terrible attempt to look presentable. I throw clothes on while trying to entertain Evan and listen to Caleb as he no stop tells me about something that happened exactly 3 years and 47 minutes ago (because he remembers of course). Yell back down the steps to Isaac to get UP. Head back down the stairs, load up Evan in the car, Run back in for my computer and keys and purse. Kiss Caleb bye as he heads over to the bus, Yell yet ONE MORE TIME for Isaac to get up.

It’s now a few minutes after 7. I don’t have shoes on yet, but I am driving to the sitters. Texting Isaac at every stoplight until he responds that he’s up and getting dressed. Get the baby dropped off, put on the Bluetooth and start working from the car.

Pull into work, get my stuff ready and get my desk reorganized. Continue taking calls. Continue the projects I didn’t get done yesterday. By 10am I haven’t accomplished a damn thing and I have 32 emails unopened. 4 phone messages, 50 texts, and 912309123 sticky notes on my desk from myself for reminder and from other people in the office as reminders. The phone keeps ringing, the texts keep coming, and I get a call from the school-Calebs in trouble (shocker). I get a call from therapy to confirm my appointment. I get a call from the dentist, reminding me of kids appointments. CVS calls to tell me the RX for Caleb is ready, Walgreens calls to tell me mine is ready. Isaac texts me “forgot my key”. The phone keeps ringing & the texts keep coming.

I leave around 4:30 having gotten myself further behind than the day before. Run across town to get the baby, back across to the other side to get Caleb. Home to get Isaac. Everyone grabs a nutrigrain bar and on the road to soccer practice we go. It’s too far to come back home and get back in time for pickup, so we stay. Lug everyone out of the car with snacks and a blanket and look through bookbags, keep Evan from eating the dog poop in the grass, Keep Caleb from throwing a fit, turn back around to see Evan crawling away from me, back around to see Caleb stealing a soccer ball from another kid….Finally get a sweaty stinky kid in the car from practice who hasn’t eaten, or done homework, pack everyone else up…stroller bookbags and all…..and listen to everyone whine about being tired and hungry all the way home. 9pm-we get home, baby gets a bath, food and sleepy time. Caleb gets a shower, food and throws a fit. Isaac does whatever it is Isaac does….and it’s 10:30…..

 

Time for me to turn the computer on and keep working.

 

While this doesn’t really seem like that big of a deal to most…Let me remind you…I DO THIS BY MYSELF. I don’t have a second set of hands. I don’t have 2 incomes to help me pay the bills with. I have only my income and it’s not even enough to make ends meet.

 

When you get done with your daily chores and are exhausted and need some comfort of home….you crawl into bed and talk to your spouse. You have each other to throw around the pains of the day. You have each other to figure out the finances TOGETHER and figure out how to make it work.  You’ve got the arms of your spouse to curl up into and fall asleep if you so choose. You have someone to talk to when you want. If a kid gets  up before you’re done with your chores for the night, you’ve got an extra set of hands to take care of that so you can do something uninterrupted. If I want to go take a bath, I can’t. I to wait until everyone is sound asleep-by then at 10 or 11pm-what’s the dang point?

When I crawl into bed, I crawl into bed alone. I don’t have anyone to bounce ideas off of. I don’t have anyone to hold my hand when I just need to know everything is OK. I don’t have anyone to run out to the car when I left something out there and remember it at 11pm. I don’t have someone to go around and lock all the doors at night to protect us. I don’t have anyone to vacuum for me while I do the dishes or Vice Versa. I don’t have someone to spray the big spray, change the light bulbs, fix the dishwasher, mow the grass…the list could go on and on.

When you wake up the next morning, you wake up beside someone and you start your day knowing that you are loved, appreciated, and wanted/needed. I wake up alone…and start it all over again. Same as yesterday.

 

I am thankful for my best friends, I truly am. But there are many days that go by that I talk to no one but my co-workers and my kids. It’s sad really…..

 

 

OK, I’m done ranting for the night. I think I have now thrown myself an adequate pity party