Monday, October 9, 2017
May 29, 2014 Anxiety, A Real Bitch
May 29, 2014 FB Post: I became acquainted with someone a little over a year ago whom I really can't stand. I had interacted with her on occasion throughout my life but nothing like the last 6 months. I try to avoid her, brace myself for when I know she'll be present, surround myself with loving friends and family, attempt to become too distracted to notice her but she always gets the best of me. No matter what alternative route I take, our paths have inevitably crossed. Her name is Anxiety. She's closely related to Grief and she's a real Bitch.
May 29, 2014 Memory Lane
Journal Entry: Yesterday we decided to take Krispy Kreme Donuts around to all the response units in honor of Gracie's birthday. Jeremy had been wanting to do something for them since we came home from the hospital a year ago and Gracie's birthday seemed fitting. We picked up 12 dozen donuts and deliered 2 dozen to each stop. We went to LifeFlight, Ogden City Fire, Weber County Fire, Weber County Sheriff, 911 Dispatch and finally Primary Children's PICU. I was holding strong until the drive to Primary. It took me back to riding in the Sheriff's truck down the freeway. I had wondered why he didn't go faster but didn't wan to be rude. I considered he was being safe. Mom was at Primary and would be with Gracie when she arrived. After hearing they wouldn't let her be with Gracie I don't remember if speed was a concern still fro me. I wanted to get there but didn't know that my arrival in the next 10 minutes or 30 minutes would matter. The Sheriff continued up past Primary and ended up at University of Utah Hospital. I remember calling Mom to verify how to get there. I remained very calm and controlled even though I was screaming, "JUST GET ME THERE" on the inside. Mom met us in the ER and took us up a back elevator to the PICU. Once there the timid, young, social worker met us. She pretended to be an expert...not a day over 22 yet an expert. This was annoying. I remember Mom and Aunt Emily talking about the social worker taking them into "a room" when Grandma had her stroke. Emily became hysterical and "drinking water actually does calm you down" I remember her saying. Mom just said, "I knew what that room meant." As I thought of the parallels in the situation "Surely, this room doesn't mean THAT?" Besides, they were wrong about grandma, they are wrong about Gracie. Just let me see her and it will be fine. Finally after 40 minutes I saw her and I knew she was gone.
My chest completely tightened as we got closer to the hospital. Oddly enough, Jeremy made the same mistake in direction as the sheriff. We were, so far, retracing our steps exactly except this time Mom was going to meet us at the North Entrance. The North Entrance is undergoing a remodel but I recognized the stairs I had come down a year ago and found Joan Strang nervously waiting outside...calling someone in an attempt to get past the security and up to PICU. I had to inform her Gracie was gone and we were just on our way home. She was so sad, I was so happy to see her. I thought it was just a bad dream and if I just left this place and went home it would all be ok.
We went to the security guard and he printed us visitor passes for the PICU by looking up our old information in the system. Same picture, the one from my drivers license. I didn't like my hair in that picture. Gracie was with me when I renewed my license the January before she died. I was pregnant I guess but for some reason I had always thought I had both little girls with me at the DMV. I'm just now realizing it was just me and Gracie. We could've brought our old tags...they were yellow too. They would've had different dates though but who would've noticed? Up we went in the elevator. I recognized everything right down to the social worker standing in the hall outside the waiting room, patient sleeping rooms where I never actually slept but had the most meaningful conversations and prayers of my life. Where I changed, clothed and fed my then 4 week old baby. I didn't walk into the waiting room or even towards it. We headed straight into the PICU. We gave the donuts to the front desk ladies. They remembered me. I saw the pumping room I used several times once I figured out the accessories. I didn't go past the front desk but was thinking of where I went from here to get to Gracie. Left, then right (where I would find a cart of towels and wash cloths) then left, and the last room on the left would've been Gracie. Apparently the most critical go there. That part, the part past the desk, I could not face. We turned to leave and I broke down. She's not here. She's not there. This all really happened. I wasn't playing the role of the best supporting actress. This was real life and we have not been living happily ever after for the past year. Gracie is never coming back. They couldn't fix this. I can't fix this. We went back down the elevator past the stairs I came down last April. Why did I take the stairs and not the elevator? Who would know the answer to that question? This time my car was not brought curbside by a caring friend. I did not open the back to find Gracie's bike still in there from her ride to Pre-school 2 days before. Instead, I walked through the parking garage to my car, opened the back, and changed Vi.
My chest completely tightened as we got closer to the hospital. Oddly enough, Jeremy made the same mistake in direction as the sheriff. We were, so far, retracing our steps exactly except this time Mom was going to meet us at the North Entrance. The North Entrance is undergoing a remodel but I recognized the stairs I had come down a year ago and found Joan Strang nervously waiting outside...calling someone in an attempt to get past the security and up to PICU. I had to inform her Gracie was gone and we were just on our way home. She was so sad, I was so happy to see her. I thought it was just a bad dream and if I just left this place and went home it would all be ok.
We went to the security guard and he printed us visitor passes for the PICU by looking up our old information in the system. Same picture, the one from my drivers license. I didn't like my hair in that picture. Gracie was with me when I renewed my license the January before she died. I was pregnant I guess but for some reason I had always thought I had both little girls with me at the DMV. I'm just now realizing it was just me and Gracie. We could've brought our old tags...they were yellow too. They would've had different dates though but who would've noticed? Up we went in the elevator. I recognized everything right down to the social worker standing in the hall outside the waiting room, patient sleeping rooms where I never actually slept but had the most meaningful conversations and prayers of my life. Where I changed, clothed and fed my then 4 week old baby. I didn't walk into the waiting room or even towards it. We headed straight into the PICU. We gave the donuts to the front desk ladies. They remembered me. I saw the pumping room I used several times once I figured out the accessories. I didn't go past the front desk but was thinking of where I went from here to get to Gracie. Left, then right (where I would find a cart of towels and wash cloths) then left, and the last room on the left would've been Gracie. Apparently the most critical go there. That part, the part past the desk, I could not face. We turned to leave and I broke down. She's not here. She's not there. This all really happened. I wasn't playing the role of the best supporting actress. This was real life and we have not been living happily ever after for the past year. Gracie is never coming back. They couldn't fix this. I can't fix this. We went back down the elevator past the stairs I came down last April. Why did I take the stairs and not the elevator? Who would know the answer to that question? This time my car was not brought curbside by a caring friend. I did not open the back to find Gracie's bike still in there from her ride to Pre-school 2 days before. Instead, I walked through the parking garage to my car, opened the back, and changed Vi.
May 28, 2014 2nd Birthday In Heaven.
May 28, 2014 FB Post: It's just past midnight and therefore it's May 28th! Five years ago today my sweet Gracie was born weighing 9lbs 2oz...so much chub for us all to love. Happy birthday my beautiful angel birthday girl. We love and miss you every second of every day.
May 26, 2014 Gracie's Memorial Run
May 26, 2014 FB Post: "Next time I will jog with you," Gracie told me as she rode along side me on her bike to preschool April 4, 2013. We didn't know there wouldn't be a next time. Today, with her shoes around my waist, over 40 members on "team Gracie" she jogged with me....with us (but mostly me:))
May 26, 2014 Journal Entry: Today we participated in a Memorial Day race for Gracie. Over 40 family members and friends came out to run for Team Gracie or cheer at the finish. I made shirts for everyone with Gracie's picture on the front and "Team Gracie To Infinity and Beyond" on the back. It was great to see everyone there and for them to be forced to acknowledge our sorrow if for only a couple hours in the past several months.....I'm a little bitter and pissed off at their forced false sense of support. Nevertheless, Olivia and Izsak both got medals for their age group and for that I was extremely proud and happy. Olivia has wanted a medal and honestly she should be given one for strength and perseverance alone. We pretty much swept the medals with "Team Gracie" representing a large population of the race. I want to do it every year if for no other reason than to have one day, one event where my grief is accepted, anticipated, acknowledged and crying is a norm---socially appropriate. It was great to have support and so many but then I think, "Where they hell have they all been for 6 months?" I feel great today but even a little of this support for the past year would've been nice. Actually, they showed up but I didn't really talk with anyone outside of who I do normally on a regular basis. I'm sure it made them feel good though, like they've helped bear my burden in some way today. It was actually harder for me to focus on grief or mourning with such fanfare...which I guess is good. They saw me strong today and that should carry them another few months--away from guilt for not calling for months or visiting more than a couple times the past year even though we asked for visits, content to return home with their entire families and resume their normal lives. I wish I could say the same. But I'll enjoy it for today; my heart too distracted to hurt like it did yesterday and the day before and the week before and the months before. What a difference a day makes. What a difference the focus of an event makes.
May 26, 2014 Journal Entry: Today we participated in a Memorial Day race for Gracie. Over 40 family members and friends came out to run for Team Gracie or cheer at the finish. I made shirts for everyone with Gracie's picture on the front and "Team Gracie To Infinity and Beyond" on the back. It was great to see everyone there and for them to be forced to acknowledge our sorrow if for only a couple hours in the past several months.....I'm a little bitter and pissed off at their forced false sense of support. Nevertheless, Olivia and Izsak both got medals for their age group and for that I was extremely proud and happy. Olivia has wanted a medal and honestly she should be given one for strength and perseverance alone. We pretty much swept the medals with "Team Gracie" representing a large population of the race. I want to do it every year if for no other reason than to have one day, one event where my grief is accepted, anticipated, acknowledged and crying is a norm---socially appropriate. It was great to have support and so many but then I think, "Where they hell have they all been for 6 months?" I feel great today but even a little of this support for the past year would've been nice. Actually, they showed up but I didn't really talk with anyone outside of who I do normally on a regular basis. I'm sure it made them feel good though, like they've helped bear my burden in some way today. It was actually harder for me to focus on grief or mourning with such fanfare...which I guess is good. They saw me strong today and that should carry them another few months--away from guilt for not calling for months or visiting more than a couple times the past year even though we asked for visits, content to return home with their entire families and resume their normal lives. I wish I could say the same. But I'll enjoy it for today; my heart too distracted to hurt like it did yesterday and the day before and the week before and the months before. What a difference a day makes. What a difference the focus of an event makes.
May 25, 2014 How Dare You Expect Normal!!
I received a text last Wednesday asking if I could offer the opening prayer in sacrament meeting this Sunday. My first instinct was, "No, it's already proving to be a hard week." But then I thought, "Oh my gosh, it's just a prayer. Poor guy has probably been rejected by a dozen others going out of town." My reply back was, "I'd be happy to." Giving a prayer is a very normal thing and over the course of my life I've done more times than I can count and only once do I remember being somewhat emotional because the lesson had been about meaningful prayer and picturing who it is you are praying to. Now when I pray, not only do I picture who it is I'm praying to but who is standing near Him. So I proceed today with the opening prayer in sacrament meeting. As I give the beginning salutation I'm immediately struck by the pain and hurt...knowing how desperate I am for communication but how one sided our conversations feel. How He is the one to whom I pray yet He is the source of my broken heart. I don't remember the words that came out of my mouth because I couldn't think past the screaming in my head as they tears flowed from my eyes...."How dare they ask me to give a prayer...those insensitive sons of bitches!! It's memorial weekend for hell sake, Gracie's upcoming birthday!! How dare they make me feel I am capable or should be capable of giving a prayer! It's such a normal thing--How dare they assume I'm normal!!" I went to the bathroom and cried...feeling so humiliated, "I'm never coming back to church." Within an hour, I was teaching my lesson and humiliation was set aside. Chalk it up once more to the crazy grieving mother.
May 24, 2014 I Believe In Magic
For the past year I realized I have believed in magic. I walked into The Room Loft (where I worked part-time) for the first time in over a month and saw Tiffany's desk had moved. I was unnerved by this change in structure. "Where is her desk? Where is the calculator?" I realized I wasn't asking for Tiffany, I was asking for Gracie. If she were to come back, she wouldn't have a place to sit or a calculator to play with like she had for years prior. If she were uncomfortable or didn't recognize where she was, she won't come back. There were new people as well. They don't know Gracie and she doesn't know them. She won't want to come back if she doesn't know the people here. This is what unnerves me about change. It's not that people move on, it's that the movement causes change. If it changes too much, Gracie won't come back because it's no longer her world, her life to come back to. People will believe my thinking is crazy but according to a book I'm reading by Joan Didion, I'm in a state of "Magical Thinking." I really can't come to terms yet with the thoughts that this is final. No matter how many times I go over it, I can't change it. If I didn't donate her organs, would that change things? It's crazy thinking but when it comes from the thoughts of a grieving mother, it's not crazy...It's magical thinking. Somehow this can be fixed. Magically, this can go away and we can turn back time or just wave a wand. Magic!! So I keep her toothbrush, shower toys, backpack on the hook, clothes in the drawer, shoes in the shoe-holder because she will need these things when she comes back. She will come back because I believe in magic!!
"Complicated grief that leads to pathological bereavement."
"Complicated grief that leads to pathological bereavement."
May 22, 2014 I'm Where You Should Be.
May 22, 2014 FB Post: I needed to be there tonight! Gracie was already registered to begin her 2nd year of preschool but she was a little over a month shy of completing her first year when she died. Last night, a friend lovingly asked if attending the preschool graduation would be hard. I realized how much experience changes our perspective. Yes, it would be hard but what's harder is living every day doing things for my other kids that I'm not doing for Gracie. From buying Spring clothes to ice-cream at the drive-thru; I feel horrible "mom guilt" when I'm not doing for one child what I'm doing for another. That feeling doesn't go away when they die. If anything it's worse. Preschool graduation was something I could do for Gracie. This morning I got a text from Teacher Misty. Teacher Janna usually helps but couldn't be there tonight due to her son playing in the high school State Championship soccer game in Salt Lake. Misty asked if I would help tonight! How perfect is this? How cool is Gracie's mom!? Gracie would think that was awesome! I got to be Teacher Misty's special helper and be with all her friends. Thank you teacher Janna for being there for your child so I could be there for mine! And to Fremont boys soccer team...you're welcome:) I needed to be there tonight.
May 14, 2014 A Big "F"-You
When you get an "F" on a paper, it hurts. To work so hard just to be told you fail. It causes you to doubt your abilities. When you get a poor evaluation at work, demoted, or just not receiving the same validation you once did that really gave you the confidence to perform the given task, that hurts. To replace the hurt, negative emotions may take over or possibly negative behaviors in an effort to rid yourself of what's causing you to feel you failed. Nothing says you failed like having your child die in your arms from a completely preventable event. It's a big giant "F"and might I add an "F-YOU"...at least that's what it feels like. I can't redo, can't retake, can't try again. It's done. You failed the ultimate task. How can I possibly think I'm good at anything else? That's the problem, I don't. I don't have the confidence I once had, I don't have the motivation or focus as well but it's stemming from the confidence. When you have kids and they become your world, your everything, the one and only thing I center my life around...our lives around and I failed. Confidence is shattered. I FAILED. I find myself angry and completely avoiding people I feel have wronged me, or have judged me or critiqued me...even if only slightly. The emotion is so strong...I FAILED. I thought parenting was what I was good at. Any idiot can keep their child alive. I thought I was a good parent. I was wrong. I don't want to place myself in a situation personally or professionally to have my abilities judged and critiqued. I can't fail again. I can't get another F.
May 11, 2014 Mother's Day...Prayers, Faith, bullshit
It's mother's day today. I'm trying so hard to feel the joy of motherhood in my life and not let the sorrow consume me. The one great thing giving me comfort are my children and Jeremy of course. The other is that Teacher Misty brought over chocolate covered strawberries they made in class. She had Anniston and Elizabeth (Gracie's 2 preschool friends) color a card. Misty said she just kept feeling a "nudge". It really feels to me like they were from Gracie and the card was colored just as she would've done it. I'm so grateful for Misty.
I recently read a book called "Heaven is for Real." It's about a little boy who had his appendix rupture when he was nearly 4. He experienced going to Heaven and talking about it. Things he saw and experienced fall in line with what we know and have known in our faith. One thing that bothers me is the idea that the faith and prayers of their congregation brought him back...but not Gracie. I know it's because it was Gracie's plan, at least that's what I keep telling myself...but it challenges what faith is to a lot of people. Faith doesn't alter God's plan. Faith helps you follow God's plan. It bothers me that their faith changed the course of the plan but mine didn't. It's bullshit. I've felt myself becoming more hurt and just tired of working through this day after day. Jeremy's tired, I'm tired people are tired of us being tired. It's hard and some moments are completely unbearable so I take a Xanax and fall asleep. If I'm at school I push through the day which leaves me shaking with anxiety by the end of the day and nothing left to give my family. I'm able to maintain and fear appearing weak, pathetic or not capable on days that aren't so bad but when they are I could care less what other's perceptions are. I feel good when I'm home. I still don't enjoy social gatherings and don't like groups who aren't aware or sensitive to our situation. It's getting easier, I just don't like it. Over all, I feel worse than I appear. I get up, go to work, clean my house, take care of kids. It feels different (hard and impossible at times) to me but looks the same to everyone else.
I recently read a book called "Heaven is for Real." It's about a little boy who had his appendix rupture when he was nearly 4. He experienced going to Heaven and talking about it. Things he saw and experienced fall in line with what we know and have known in our faith. One thing that bothers me is the idea that the faith and prayers of their congregation brought him back...but not Gracie. I know it's because it was Gracie's plan, at least that's what I keep telling myself...but it challenges what faith is to a lot of people. Faith doesn't alter God's plan. Faith helps you follow God's plan. It bothers me that their faith changed the course of the plan but mine didn't. It's bullshit. I've felt myself becoming more hurt and just tired of working through this day after day. Jeremy's tired, I'm tired people are tired of us being tired. It's hard and some moments are completely unbearable so I take a Xanax and fall asleep. If I'm at school I push through the day which leaves me shaking with anxiety by the end of the day and nothing left to give my family. I'm able to maintain and fear appearing weak, pathetic or not capable on days that aren't so bad but when they are I could care less what other's perceptions are. I feel good when I'm home. I still don't enjoy social gatherings and don't like groups who aren't aware or sensitive to our situation. It's getting easier, I just don't like it. Over all, I feel worse than I appear. I get up, go to work, clean my house, take care of kids. It feels different (hard and impossible at times) to me but looks the same to everyone else.
May 4, 2014 Memorial Tribute
May 4, 2014 FB Post: Dance competitions and sporting events bring a certain unity among the crowd. It wasn't a dance competition or a sporting event today, it was a Memorial Tribute for Primary Children's Hospital to honor Gracie along with 28 other angels who passed away there last year. Following the tribute they released doves signifying a unity in our journey Home. What unified us today is where our children took their last breaths. Jeremy suggested we later visit the donor memorial wall downtown Salt Lake at Library Square. I wondered if this was something else that unified us with others in the crowd. Did their husbands walk their child's lifeless body down the corridors of the hospital and into the arms of a transplant team? Do people even realize that's what happens? I didn't, and still can't think of it without a pain wanting to tear my heart into pieces. How I wish these were pictures of a dance performance or sporting event but none the less, I'm proud Gracie was honored today.
Journal Entry: Today they did a memorial tribute for the children who passed away at Primary Children's Medical Center this past year. I was surprised only 29 including Gracie were on the program. It was a short tribute with a quick video of each Angel. When they said Gracie's name and showed her picture, Jeremy and I just sobbed. It's horrible it's been a year and we have to honor our daughter this way. Jeremy wanted to visit the donor memorial wall after. I am still struggling the the donor stuff. It was a factor in our decision to withdraw support. It wouldn't have changed Gracie's outcome but it was a factor I wish hadn't been there. I wonder about the recipients and fear they aren't worthy of Gracie's organs. I'm still upset her kidneys went to an adult and so many organs went to research. Others have a part of her I don't have. That bothers me. I'm feeling a little angry, a little tired, and very sad tonight.
Our bishopric changed. We weren't there because of the memorial service. I don't like that things change. I fear that change will cause Gracie's memory to fade. There wasn't great support from the former Bishop in regard to our grief this past year so nothing will change in that regard but I would really like for someone to come to my door, as how I am, and hold out a tissue in anticipation of the floodgates waiting to bust open. But that doesn't happen so I'm left to barricade the dam, knowing if they wanted to see or know how completely miserable I still am they would ask...but they don't. I have had a couple good days and I even think I didn't cry the other day...at least I don't remember crying which in itself is an improvement. It really doesn't get easier, doesn't go away. I've just learned to live with the pain because I've realized it's never going away. Nobody can fix it. I pray I don't live long.
Journal Entry: Today they did a memorial tribute for the children who passed away at Primary Children's Medical Center this past year. I was surprised only 29 including Gracie were on the program. It was a short tribute with a quick video of each Angel. When they said Gracie's name and showed her picture, Jeremy and I just sobbed. It's horrible it's been a year and we have to honor our daughter this way. Jeremy wanted to visit the donor memorial wall after. I am still struggling the the donor stuff. It was a factor in our decision to withdraw support. It wouldn't have changed Gracie's outcome but it was a factor I wish hadn't been there. I wonder about the recipients and fear they aren't worthy of Gracie's organs. I'm still upset her kidneys went to an adult and so many organs went to research. Others have a part of her I don't have. That bothers me. I'm feeling a little angry, a little tired, and very sad tonight.
Our bishopric changed. We weren't there because of the memorial service. I don't like that things change. I fear that change will cause Gracie's memory to fade. There wasn't great support from the former Bishop in regard to our grief this past year so nothing will change in that regard but I would really like for someone to come to my door, as how I am, and hold out a tissue in anticipation of the floodgates waiting to bust open. But that doesn't happen so I'm left to barricade the dam, knowing if they wanted to see or know how completely miserable I still am they would ask...but they don't. I have had a couple good days and I even think I didn't cry the other day...at least I don't remember crying which in itself is an improvement. It really doesn't get easier, doesn't go away. I've just learned to live with the pain because I've realized it's never going away. Nobody can fix it. I pray I don't live long.
From One Nightmare to the Next
I had a dream last night that snapped me out of my funk. In my dream I was searching for Gracie. We finally found her in a wooded area. I think she was barely alive when we found her but had been brutally raped. The investigator or examiner told me her pelvis had been broken and I was shocked that he was being so graphic. I didn't think it was the appropriate time to tell me these things but I didn't say anything to him to make him stop. I'm pretty sure she died while he was telling me but I can't remember exactly. I just remember seeing her little body just as it was last year, size, her face...everything. I was so overcome with the idea of such brutality on my little girl. I woke up crying and had to think for a minute...convince myself it was just a dream. I then had to remind myself that Gracie had died but found relief and comfort that the dream was not how she died. I was all at once filled with gratitude that she didn't die in such a brutal way. I found myself praying in my heart a prayer of thanks that Gracie had a peaceful death and will never endure such agony. It's odd and unorthodox that such a nightmare seemed to have pulled me out of my funk...If only for today, I'm grateful.
April 28, 2014 Another Angel Mom
Last week was pretty horrible in terms of grief and pain. It just hit really hard that this is NEVER ENDING!!....until my life does. It's exhausting and I don't want to do it another year. I slept a lot last week because I just didn't want to feel it anymore. It's so painful and I'm just so sad and then Jeremy is so sad and feeling the same. This is just HEll...but I continue to battle through.
I was especially sad last Thursday. I was so overwhelmed with anxiety that I was glad to leave work right at 2:#5 to pick up Vi by 3:00 so her sitter could get to an appointment. As I was leaving the sitters I saw a couple cars pass and realized it was the Mom's from Appleseed picking up their kids. I felt the blood drain from my heart and realized I would be picking up Gracie...I should be picking up Gracie. I drove by and some of the moms waved what appeared to be uncomfortable waves but luckily for me I didn't endure seeing the kids run to their moms...they hadn't come out yet. Still, it was enough. I couldn't stop the tars, didn't want to even try. I handed Vi off to Jeremy with no words....my tears explained enough...and went to bed. That's only the 2nd time I remember doing that.
Friday felt no better but I pushed through the day. By Friday night I wanted to talk with someone who would tell me this will get easier and what I could do to make this better. I finally got a hold of Aunt Tammy, another Angel Mom and most beloved aunt. It was so great to talk with her. It validated how I felt and I've come to realize that is the greatest support. There is nothing worse than feeling as miserable as I do and sensing the "eye rolls" from others. Tammy recognized her situation was different because little Tami was so sick she found herself (in the end) praying for her daughter to die. I see it as just as tragic and always saw her as so strong. She still struggles to this day but has such a testimony and love for everyone. I didn't need to know how depressed or hurt she has been over the years. I wouldn't have understood it anyway but I do now and have an even greater admiration of her strength ability to carry on.
Sunday felt a little better but Jeremy worked and I had to teach. I was a bit overwhelmed with anxiety until after my lesson. I went to Mom's which adds to my paranoia. I make people uncomfortable. I misinterpret everything that's said and cry which I feel like an ass for. Needless to say, I was ready for the day...week....life...to be over.
I was especially sad last Thursday. I was so overwhelmed with anxiety that I was glad to leave work right at 2:#5 to pick up Vi by 3:00 so her sitter could get to an appointment. As I was leaving the sitters I saw a couple cars pass and realized it was the Mom's from Appleseed picking up their kids. I felt the blood drain from my heart and realized I would be picking up Gracie...I should be picking up Gracie. I drove by and some of the moms waved what appeared to be uncomfortable waves but luckily for me I didn't endure seeing the kids run to their moms...they hadn't come out yet. Still, it was enough. I couldn't stop the tars, didn't want to even try. I handed Vi off to Jeremy with no words....my tears explained enough...and went to bed. That's only the 2nd time I remember doing that.
Friday felt no better but I pushed through the day. By Friday night I wanted to talk with someone who would tell me this will get easier and what I could do to make this better. I finally got a hold of Aunt Tammy, another Angel Mom and most beloved aunt. It was so great to talk with her. It validated how I felt and I've come to realize that is the greatest support. There is nothing worse than feeling as miserable as I do and sensing the "eye rolls" from others. Tammy recognized her situation was different because little Tami was so sick she found herself (in the end) praying for her daughter to die. I see it as just as tragic and always saw her as so strong. She still struggles to this day but has such a testimony and love for everyone. I didn't need to know how depressed or hurt she has been over the years. I wouldn't have understood it anyway but I do now and have an even greater admiration of her strength ability to carry on.
Sunday felt a little better but Jeremy worked and I had to teach. I was a bit overwhelmed with anxiety until after my lesson. I went to Mom's which adds to my paranoia. I make people uncomfortable. I misinterpret everything that's said and cry which I feel like an ass for. Needless to say, I was ready for the day...week....life...to be over.
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