February 9, 2015 Continued Torture

 I used to want to talk to people about what I was feeling or have them talk with me.  I thought this helped.  I've realized it doesn't and in church I realized I would just rather they didn't talk to me.  Conversation is so empty and meaningless.  I don't care who calls or if I call them back. Mom sent a text, "Do you want to do dinner Monday?" and because the last visit (I felt obligated to accept) was nothing more than an uncomfortable visiting teaching moment, I simply responded back, "I don't think so."  In the past I would've never declined Mom's invitation and would've felt horrible if I had.  I feel nothing.  I'm tired of others being able to control when it's convenient to offer support because it leaves me feeling empty and exhausted.  I accept and engage to make THEM feel better and spare THEIR feelings.  My Mom just needs to check off her list and I've allowed her that.....to always be able to check me off her list.  I'm ready to just be alone.  For almost 2 years I've accepted I'm alone and it's easier so let me now be alone.  I wanted my mom to be around more since I had Olivia but she never had the time.  As hard as that was it was nothing to how the past 22 months of her absence has been.  Now I just simply don't want it.  She is too much of a stranger to me to ever be of any support or comfort again.  The past 22 months is when I've needed her and she just didn't do enough to be here.  If it were really just work that would one thing but adding up all the time she devotes to her own siblings and her support to Rob's family still, it's about 5 times the time she has spent with me.  It's hurtful.  

I called another Angel Mom to see if talking with another grieving Mom would help.  It didn't.  We are in different places in regards to grief and our relationships with our children were different.  She did mention a book I've had for a while but haven't read.  One reason I haven't read is the title, "Joy Cometh in the Morning", another is the plot of a mom who lost an infant.  As hard as losing a child is, losing an almost 4 year old because she hung herself in the backyard adds a whole other element.  

I started reading the book and found comfort.  The authors feelings and grief were so similar to mine.  But then she begins to heal and talks about suffering being part of the "The Plan" and what refines us.  I get that and before Gracie's death I believed that.  What I realize now causes me to be seemingly digressing in my mourning is the feeling that this is not just suffering; I am being tortured.  Our daughter didn't die of a heart condition.  She died because she hung on a slide for an unknow amount of time while her dad frantically searched for her.  She died because she was playing outside by herself.  She died because I had another baby.  She died because I couldn't say no to being "Super Mom".  TORTURE....was she scared wondering where we were and why we weren't helping her?  How long did she lie there before passing out?  Was she trying to call out for me?  Why do these even need to be questions?  Why would a loving Heavenly Father allow such torture?  Sorrow, suffering, grief, heartache are part of life's experiences to become more like our Father and Mother in Heaven, I get that.  I don't get this.  

We were supposed to have the missionaries join us for Family Home Evening.  On my way home I felt panic setting in.  Will they ask about Gracie?  Will I just sit and cry to them? Do I still think they can fix it? Will I expect them to make me feel better? Will they make me feel worse?  I don't want to entertain, make a dessert, plan a lesson around gospel principles I'm struggling to believe.  I expressed my anxiety to Jeremy and he cancelled.  Come to find out it was Jeremy's attempt to bring the spirit into our home.  Now I fell guilty for not only chasing The Spirit off but preventing it or the missionaries from entering my home.  This is not who I want to be.  The last time I voiced that, God killed one of my children in an effort to change me....make me a better person.  It didn't work.  

Feb. 4, 2015 Failure

I started crying last night as the anxiety built, thinking of all the things I had to do this week.  Our calendar isn't any busier than any other week.  In fact, it's actually not as full but everything is overwhelming and causes anxiety.  I just want to sit home with my kids and watch T.V.  It's safe, it's comfortable and I don't have to talk with anyone.  I am so afraid I will just continue to fail.  I failed as a parent.  I can't give any parenting advice, discipline info, etc., because I failed as a parent...the one thing I thought I was good at...I failed!!  Fear of failure is so apparent in society and causes enough anxiety that people do anything to safeguard from it.  The best athlete will go so far as to fake an injury or illness at the start of a competition so if they fail there is an excuse.  They won't have to feel the failure because it was due to something not in their control.  Either that or they simply refuse to compete and avoid failure altogether.  I don't feel the anxiety and fear before a competition, I feel it when I wake up.  All day...every day....I AM A FAILURE.

I took the day off to take Liv and Vi for their well child visits and shots.  They are both happy and healthy.  As I sat in the waiting room I saw the safety poster hanging on the wall.  I started to feel panic.  I then thought of the SuperBowl commercial stating "The #1 cause of deaths in children are preventable accidents."  Here comes the blame and shame and it's not even 10:00 am.

Dr. Barhorst has always been so supportive and has never made me feel less than that but the visit just became increasingly more difficult.  Vi is 35" tall (5 inches shorter than Gracie) and she is 32lbs (8 lbs lighter than Gracie).  I was handed papers on "keeping your toddler safe."  I was handed these same papers when I took Gracie for her 2 year well child too.  I even allowed my eyes to glance the page enough to find, "Never leave your child unattended." It didn't prevent Gracie from dying...these papers of yours.  It's bad enough having a child gone but the blame on top of that is so painful.

My friend Aspen texted me about a job position in Ogden District as an Instructional Coach.  Three years ago I would've been perfect for the job but I feel no more qualified now than had I been "a stay at home mom" for the past 12 years.  FEAR OF FAILURE.... I won't even apply because fearing I won't get the job isn't as bad as the fear I won't do a good job.  I was once the best presenter, trainer, teacher and now I sit at my desk and wait for the time to pass.  I have no desire to do anything else.

I had horrible dreams throughout the night of people being disappointed with me, upset, accusatory; Jeremy's family especially.  In my dream they wouldn't let me see or talk with Jeremy because they thought I had been so horrible to them and him.  Gracie was in the dream too but it was too erratic for me to make any sense of it.  I woke and cried all morning.  I feel like the most useless, worthless person ever.  I don't want to sleep tonight for fear of waking with the same feeling tomorrow.  I just don't want to continue on like this. I can't.

Jan. 31, 2015 Gracie is Here

I woke early this morning and felt as though Gracie were crawling into bed with me as she used to do in the middle of each night.  I kept my eyes closed and had a warmth radiate through my body.  In my mind I said, "I think it's you, I can feel you." The feeling increased.  Of course I question if it was me creating a situation of comfort or Gracie comforting me.  Either way, it was a good feeling.

Why Do We Memorialize Missionaries?

I've done better emotionally this week and felt strong heading to church.  I got there and saw the program, "Missionary Mom's" were on the program.  I actually thought I would be ok staying and listening until the first mom began memorializing her son.  She told how she never cried until her son left...words straight out of my mouth...and then I felt the tears well up and couldn't control my emotions.  Their sons and daughters will come home in less than 2 years.  Mine won't.  They get letters, emails, phone calls...I don't!!  These are the same feelings I had early on when I had others telling me Gracie was called to serve the ultimate mission on the other side.  They don't say that shit anymore and I wasn't asked to speak with other missionary moms.  Just when I feel I'm getting used to the tide....The only thing I'm used to is the unforeseen wave that knocks me off balance and slams me on the ocean floor.

January 25, 2015 Family Home Evening was a Bust

After I wrote last, David (Jeremy's brother) called and invited us for Family Home Evening with the family...the whole Becker family.  Monday night.  I was actually happy he called and happy to reconnect with everyone.

I started feeling anxious but thought I didn't need to be......until we arrived.  Although I thought we were early, everyone else had arrived and seemed to have been settled for some time.  What time had they all arrived?  What had they been talking about....that answer was evident as soon as we walked in.  When we walked in I felt very much "On Stage".

Last time I was at David and Valerie's they had a picture of Gracie on their accent table (the one I handed out at the funeral).  I felt better knowing she would be represented there.  When we walked into the family room I looked at the table and her picture wasn't there.  Instead it was replaced with a holy shrine for her missionary sons.  I tried to not let it get to me but where it was there before and gone now was very hard.  Where was it?  I was fixated on that for the night and it was burning a hole in my gut.  What if Gracie peaked in at this FHE and thought we had all moved on.  Her picture was gone and 2 people there had called Vi, "Gracie" which made them all more uncomfortable than it made us. What would entice Gracie to stay or want to be part if everyone has just moved on and forgotten her?  I can't ask where the picture is.  What if they no longer have it?  Or what if they think I'm making it all about me?  George has already said I make everyone uncomfortable.  I decided to just ask George to let the family know that if they no longer feel comfortable or no longer want to have those framed pictures of Gracie I had them take home from the funeral they can give them to him and he will get them back to me.  I hate to think of them just sitting in a closet somewhere when I don't feel I have enough of her around my house. 

1/19/2015 I Make Them Uncomfortable.

The past two weeks have been hard.  I'm just angry and possibly not allowing myself to feel comfort.  I've also considered that maybe this is comfort; I'm able to get out of bed, able to work, able to coach my daughter's soccer team, get the kids to their activities, cook, clean, etc., for almost 2 years now.  I'm either extremely stubborn or I'm feeling comfort...just not in the way I recognize or wish to have.  It boils down to nothing will be enough to ever comfort me.  It will never be enough to take the pain, void and hurt away and it's just getting used to the pain, void and hurt..."My New Normal." 

I still feel so alone but it's better because I know people can't help fill this void.  I'm sad I don't talk to Jeremy's family or rather they don't call or come over...like I've done something wrong.  I really need for them to keep trying which they simply won't do.  I didn't talk with them more than once a month before but now, it's complete isolation.  I'm sure I'm uncomfortable to be around. However, I no longer have the expectation they or anyone else will help bear this burden (honestly, what does that saying even mean?) so I'm not angry when they no longer (or never) try but it still makes me feel so completely alone. I'm finding the more I realize others lack of ability to comfort, the less I want to talk about my pain.  I feel people's discomfort and awkwardness and I still can't help them feel better about it so I just avoid social settings more and more.

I'm concerned Gracie no longer wants or needs me.  Her bond with those in Heaven is stronger for her than her bond with me.  She has possibly realized I'm not that great of a person or the wonderful person she thought I was when she saw me through her 3 year old eyes.  She never left my side and I'm being reminded of this more and more with Vi.  I don't pee alone, don't shower alone, and with Gracie I never slept on my side of the bed along.  I don't feel her with me now.  I feel she has left me alone.