Tomorrow we leave for Colorado. My little sister is getting married and I’m the maid of honor, Sam is a groomsman, and… Bella is the flower girl.
So I hope you’re all ready to die of the cute in a few days.
I’ve spent today running around like crazy – getting her hair cut, picking up some last minute wedding gifts, grabbing the dresses, doing all the laundry, sorting and packing clothes/food/toys/and so.many.chargers.
Someone needs to invent a universal charger. For everything – phones, plugs, kid toys. It’s ridiculous how many things we have to have chargers for.
We have our sitter watching the house and pets. Except Charlie, he comes with us.
To be honest? As excited as I am for the wedding and trip home, I’m also really apprehensive. It’ll be the first time since Kaden died, and really since the twins died too, that we’ll be in a group of people we’ve known since Sam and I were both young – but haven’t seen in years. Some will have babies that will be one of my sons’ ages. I was pregnant alongside a few.
Everyone got a baby. But me. Again.
In so many ways, I’m thankful all of this happened so far away and not in the small town we came from. I don’t know if I could have dealt with the constant gossip and pitying looks from everyone. Here I’m unknown so it’s easy to go out and not worry about that.
Now, of course I’m aware that this mindset is also the same as thinking, “This is all about ME. Everyone will see ME and feel sorry for ME.” When in fact, this is actually not my day at all. But it’s still there, and it weighs on me. I don’t want the condolences, the pity, the looks, the uncomfortable small talk.
Yet I don’t want to be ignored. And I certainly don’t want my sons to not even exist in those moments. I don’t want to fall apart and I don’t want to pretend everything is ok.
It’s truly a lose/lose for everyone. I want what I don’t, so you can’t win with it.
I have no idea what anyone sees me as from the outside. If you read this blog – what bits and pieces you’ve put together over the years. I don’t know if everyone pities me, wishes I’d be happier, wants to hear more about loss, wonders if I pay attention to Sam and Bella, thinks I’m a disaster, assumes every day I spend in a corner crying, etc. I don’t know. So I go before people – some of who have read my blog, most of who haven’t seen me since I was fresh out of high school – and they all know and yet don’t. They know and they can’t comprehend and I’m some anomaly to them.
I hate being pitied or talked to as if life is over for me. That because I don’t have a big family, my hopes and dreams must be just – done.
And if I could say anything, I’d say that my life has become something I’m pretty protective of. I love my quiet home and even El Paso. I have a unique relationship with both Sam and Bella that a few years ago I would have never imagined. I love being a mama, but I also love that I have a passion outside of that that allows me to work at home. I love that I know what I want to “be” and I’m pursuing it daily. I wish so much we had our three little boys, yet I’m glad that their tiny lives changed ours so dramatically for the better.
My life isn’t sad, terrible, a nightmare, or so awful. All the things I’ve read over the years. My life is meaningful. It has profound beauty in it that shows up as my suffering eases just a little. I know no one wants to walk my path, and that I’m every mother’s worst nightmare. That stings – but I also know that I’m so blessed in ways both seen and unseen.
And not #soblessed like that hashtag – but really and truly blessed with things that people spend their lives waiting for.
I have a purpose as a mother and wife, a passion as a writer, and a relationship with Jesus that propels me to seek Him even after the unimaginable happens again.
I’ll see my sons again. One day I’ll be fulfilled in that way. Until then, I want people to know my life isn’t about loss as much as it is the unexpected beauty unfolding after.