Friday, October 30, 2015

Today?  It Sucks...

Today sucks... I'm not sure how much more clear I could be about it.  It sucks.  Period.

Every October for the last 7 years I wake up and tell myself that this year it's going to be different.  This year I'm going to move on.  This year it's not going to hurt as bad.  And every October my mind and heart fail me.

I never got to hold them.  I never got to hear their heartbeat.  I never got to see them moving on the blurry screen.  I never got to find out if they were both boys or girls, or even one of each.  It's like they didn't exist.  But they did.  They existed inside me for a moment in time.  For a quick blink, they were there.  10 weeks to be exact.  10 weeks I gave life to two tiny humans, and then just like now- my body failed me.

Maybe it just wasn't meant to be and the Good Lord knew he had better plans for our family.  Even with the path laid out ahead of me, it's hard to not look back and wonder... what if?  What if they were here right now?  What if we had a family of 6 instead of 5?  What if I didn't hate the month of October so much?

I have so much to distract me this time of year.  My wonderful husband and I have our Anniversary, my grandfathers birthday, my mothers birthday, littlest little's birthday, football every night of the week, school activities, work, friends... I could go on and on.  But I always end up right back here on Oct. 30th- thinking about 'What if'?  Remembering that day like it was yesterday.  The look of pity and sadness on every one's face around us.  The sorrow and heartbreak I felt not being able to figure out why my body failed me.  Why my body failed them?

...I will never know.  

October sucks... my life doesn't.  Some how we were able to pick ourselves up and not 'move on'... heal maybe?  Yes, heal.  We were able to heal.  It's no doubt that God had a plan; a plan to help.  It came almost a year to the day later in the form of our littlest little.  Our tiny humans were gone from me Oct. 31, 2007.  The littlest little helped heal my heart Oct. 27, 2008.  The blessing we received came in a tiny package that now is bigger than life itself.  I have been told that he's the best of both worlds... 'loving/sweet, hell on wheels'.  There's no doubt in my mind he's a perfect mixture of our two tiny humans.  

It hurts.  It always will.  There's nothing I can do about it.  Some say it shouldn't bother me still, or it's been years 'Have you not moved on?'  But those are also the same ones that honestly do not have a heart or a place in my little life.  

While I will continue to hate October for the rest of my life; comfort comes from the 4 heart beats that surround me.  My Hero (biggest little), my Clone (middle little), my Babybird (littlest little), my Best Friend (hubby).  In the end, my body didn't fail me.  My heart and mind may have- but my body?  No, it didn't fail me.  I didn't fail.  I did exactly what I was supposed to do.  I gave life to two tiny humans for 10 weeks.  Two tiny humans that I will get to meet one day.  Two tiny humans while they may not live out here in the open, they continue to live in my failed heart.  Two tiny humans that made me realize miracles are possible.

So just know that if you ever see me around and it's October- my smile may be fake, my heartbreak hidden, and my tears wiped away... but I'm still me.  I'm still the mother of three (make that five) amazing kids, I'm still a loving wife and best friend, and I still hate October.


Friday, October 2, 2015

Mom's of Fall

So many topics could come from this heading... but today it's the obvious (and the not so much).  Mom's of Fall.  We are there when our babies are on the field laying it all out on the line.  When they come off defeated or in victory, we are there with an encouraging smile or a "Hell ya, that's my Boy!"  
I think the hardest part of watching your son play the sport is the desire he has to win for his team (his 'other family').  The desire he has to make sure he plays the best game of his life.  The desire he has for his 'other family'.  It's the hardest, but also the most rewarding.  You hope and pray that he takes that desire with him throughout the rest of his days and lives his life just like he plays the game.  Leave it all on the field with the desire in his heart to accomplish anything and actually do it.

As the Mom's of Fall, we are there at every game.  We make sure they have a good breakfast, a snack for after school, and plenty of water on the field.  We make sure they practice as hard as they would play a game and respect their coaches (no matter if we agree with them or not).  And as the Mom's of Fall... we are often over looked.  The prayers for our babies do not go unheard, but for some reason the praise does.  
As a proud mother of three boys (14-Football, 11-Baseball, 6-Football) I have been through multiple stages of attitude, hormones, and dirt.  But the one thing that remains constant is the pride I have when I see my boys under the lights.  Knowing that I had something to do with that desire they have.  Knowing that I had something to do with the respect they show their coaches and their 'other family'.  Knowing that's MY child, MINE.

What I do not understand and what hurts the most is why are we over looked?  Is it because we are always their constant?  We always have their backs?  We always make sure things are taken care of?  We change our schedules to match theirs?  Or is it teenage hormones and attitudes that drive a wedge between a mother and a son?  
I know one day I won't have the rec leagues, stinky locker rooms, and SUV filled with equipment to deal with.  One day it will all be over and I will look back to wonder if any of it was truly worth it.  Was it worth biting my nails till they were gone?  Was it worth yelling to the point of loosing my voice?  Was it worth sitting in the rain all those nights?  Was it worth watching my son run the field after a devastating loss to calm his nerves and attitude?  Was it worth the unmistakable feeling of my heart sinking when he didn't get up off the field?

I may never know the answers to these questions, and honestly I think I'm OK with that.  As a Mom of Fall I will continue to instill the love of the game (and life) into my boys.  I will continue to be there in victory or defeat.  I will continue to be there when the 'other family' let's them down.  I will continue to be their constant.  I will continue to bite my nails until they are gone.  I will continue to loose my voice at every game.  I will continue to carry an umbrella in my SUV.  I will continue to sit in silent support as the lights go out in the stadium while he comes back down to Earth.  I will continue to pray that my son get's up off the field.
I will continue no matter the attitude, hormones, or dirt... because I am a Mom of Fall.