Saturday Spotlight #15

Evidently, this photography project is not as easy as I thought.  It involves looking for images in unique locations, and I have not yet found all of my images.   So...another week without the last installment.   I'm working on it!

Meanwhile, yesterday's post got me thinking more about my honeymoon and how much fun it was.  So much fun, in fact, I wanted to share it with you.  So, I made a video on my Ipad with photos from our week in Kauai and I set it to the same song by Dave Matthews.  

Mike and I watched it together before I uploaded it and smiled.  That was a wonderful week.  A week full of newness and adventure.  A week when our lives were simple and carefree.  

Sometimes, we all need to take a moment to think about what makes us happy in this life.  We all need to take a moment to remember the good times we've had - because at the end of the day, that's really all there is.  Memories.   Here's one of mine.

Saturday Spotlight #13

This week's photography project was 100 Steps.   My assignment was to walk 100 steps from a starting point and take some pictures.  The point of this particular assignment is to get us out of the house at a time it may be difficult to do so.  Had I started this project in March, this would have been helpful.  When you are first fighting grief, the outside world is terrifying.  100 steps doesn't sound so bad.  It's doable.  While this summer has not been at all what I had planned or even wanted, it has taken me all across the country.    For my 100 Steps project, I picked a few starting points during my trip to Boston and I took pictures where I ended up.   (The journal assignment to accompany these photos was to write about what I am grateful for.  I decided to do that as a separate post.  It's entitled Gratitude and should be posted at the same time as this one.)

My sister is training to run her first marathon in October, so she was starstruck by the Boston Marathon course.  One of her goals for our time there was to walk up Heartbreak Hill.  So, we took the T to Boston College armed with our smartphones.  Using a clever mixture of Wikipedia, Google Maps, and some helpful locals, we were able to find the start of the hill, at mile marker 20 of the marathon's course - and three miles from our train stop.  I thought it fitting that my 100 steps begin at the bottom of a hill named after the moment someone's heart was broken.   I snapped a picture of Kenley's Boston K at the bottom of the hill and then began to walk as I counted to 100.

100 steps isn't really all that far.  It was just enough to get about four houses up the hill.   In the corner of the yard where we stopped, there was an old, gnarled tree stump.  It reminded me of the trees I pictured while writing this post.  The only difference is the trees in that post were looming over me and this one had been cut down to a stump.  A stump is a defeated tree.  To me, this stump meant more to me than just a tree that once was.  It was a symbol of my grief.  Cut down to size by all of my efforts to heal.   I used black and white for this picture for the obvious reasons of how sometimes the world seems gray and colorless, and no matter how hard I might work to chop this forest down, the stumps will always remain.  For the rest of my life, all of my victories will always be bittersweet.  

Across the sidewalk from the stump was a round traffic mirror attached to a tree.  There are so many different ways I could take this symbolism, but I have chosen to look at it like this: the mirror is a reflection of myself and how I have changed in this journey.   It reflects down to the bottom of Heartbreak Hill.   It shows me where I have been, the path I have taken to get here.  The reflection is distorted, like memories are distorted with grief and pain.   I can look in that mirror all I want.  I can focus in on where I have been and how much it hurts - or I can turn away and focus on the road ahead.  I choose to move forward.

I took a few other pictures at this location, but they weren't all that exciting.  I do, however, want to tell you about a few pictures I took several hundred steps later.  At the very top of Heartbreak Hill.  The trek down to the base from our train was rainy and gray.  The mugginess of the air rivaled Florida on it's worst days.  It was oppressive and heavy.  As we crossed the street to begin the 100 steps, the air started to clear a little bit.  The thick cloud cover began to break apart like a crumbling cookie, and a cool breeze managed to find its way through the sticky stillness.   Walking uphill somehow seemed easier than walking down in the first place.  The top of Heartbreak Hill is crowned by Boston College.  Obviously, I needed to get a picture of Kenley here, so I did.  

But, the remarkable part of this trek up the hill was the sky when I reached the top.   The clouds had parted.  The threatening storm dissipated.  The weight of air lightened.   At the top of the hill, directly above me, was this sky. 

A parting grief to make way for the sunlight of days to come.  I am not finished with this journey.  I have reluctantly realized I will never be.  Heartbreak Hill is here to stay.  So, I'll lace up my sneakers and pound that pavement. I will walk this path until the day I die.  The road may smooth a bit.  The clouds may drift away.  But, I will still be here.  Walking.  Fighting.  Living.  

Boston Bound

I am caught up in a whirlwind of traveling this summer.   Tomorrow, I am embarking on yet another trip.   Thanks to the generosity of my parents and my little sister, I am heading up to Boston for a few days.  Two things are exciting about this event.

First, I will get to spend some time with my sister in a great, big city.  We haven't had any time together since the week Kenley died, and that week was filled with shock and sadness.  Everyone was in pure survival mode.  It will be so good to see her when we are not so full of sorrow.  My sister and I have been close off and on for our entire lives.  Growing up, four years separated us, but it might as well have been a lifetime.  When you are sixteen, you don't know what to do with a twelve year old, except yell at her for wearing your clothes without permission.   When I went off to college, we finally both saw each other as human beings - and not as the World's Greatest Annoyer.  We became extremely close throughout both of our college years.  Then, she went to med school several states away, and distance and stress levels took a toll on our interactions, much to our regret.  We didn't have any sort of falling out - we just kind of lived our own lives for a while.  Looking back on those years, I really should have tried harder to keep her closer.   My marriage was a life event that brought us back together the way we should be.  When I got engaged, she was giddy and excited, and we planned and hashed out details together.  She flew down for the wedding and it was like old times again. We talk, we text, we joke, we conspire.   I will proudly tell you that she is my best friend.  
When Kenley died, my sister was devastated.  She still is.  It's hard to realize that my grief is not my own.  Other people share it with me.  During that week of horror, she was right by my side.  She worked with my friends and my parents to make necessary arrangements.  She got the tree memorial organized.  She was on fire.  I was humbled and honored to see her do so much for me.   She really is the very best sister anyone could ever ask for, and I am so glad that she is mine.   I am looking forward to spending time with her when we aren't both so clouded with grief.

The second reason I am excited to go to Boston is that I will get to see one of my good friends - Hunter's mom, Kelly.   I met Kelly through a mutual friend who put us in contact with each other after I lost Kenley.   Kelly quickly became the person whom I could vent to - and who would completely understand.  Our bond of loss quickly became a bond of actual friendship.  When I told Kelly about my trip to Boston, we arranged to have lunch on Sunday.  I said to her that I feel like I am meeting up with an old friend - while at the same time going on a first date, and she agreed.  I am excited to meet her in person - and to give her something special I have been hanging on to for a while.  (Surprise, Kelly!)     I know it comforts both of us to think of how Kenley and Hunter's little brothers or sisters will play together one day.

So, I am off to Boston.  I'll be back Wednesday, and I have posts scheduled through then.  I wish everyone a great weekend.  

Saturday Spotlight #10

Once again, my past self is writing on behalf of my future self.  Most likely, right now, I have just wrapped up a week in New Orleans and am driving to Pensacola as you read this.   Our plan is to visit family friends tonight and then visit the Navy Museum in Pensacola on Sunday.  Hopefully, Sunday - Father's Day - won't be as emotional for me as Mother's Day.   We shall see.  After the museum, we are stopping in Panama City to see Mike's dad and his family.  We will probably continue on home Monday or Tuesday.   We are playing this part of our trip by ear.  

Anyway, I am sure I had a fabulous time in New Orleans.   I love the rich history of the city.  We booked a jazz cruise on a steam boat and a ghost tour.   I added to the Flickr set for Kenley's Travels here.  

UPDATE:  While in Seattle, I felt like I didn't quite belong.   It was beautiful, but things felt "off".  Maybe it was the chill in JUNE, or the excessive amounts of daylight, but as soon as I stepped out of the Orlando airport into the warm, muggy night, I realized what I had been missing.  Humidity.    Say what you will about hating the heat and humidity of the south, but it's all I know.   And to me, it's a piece of home.   The heaviness of it is a comfort to me.   I've struggled with this identity for quite a long time, but, friends...I have finally come to accept the truth.  I don't say "ya'll" and I don't wear camo, but I am a Southerner, through and through.  

Saturday Spotlight #9

So, I am flying back from Seattle today, where Mike will meet me at the airport for the second leg of my travels.   Crescent City, here we come!

I am writing this a week ago - so I am assuming that I have had a wonderful time with my friend Tracey.   It's possible I have taken lots of fun pictures on my trip, which I may have posted here.  

UPDATE:

I have been trying to upload my photos to my blog directly from my ipad, but apparently, technology hates me.   So, instead, I have created a flickr set of photos from the trip.   Check them out here.   These are just iphone pics.  Once I get home and unload the camera card, I'll post more.  Enjoy!

I was not expecting the enormous amount of daylight here in Seattle.  Besides the fact that it was sunny and beautiful the entire time I was here, (while my home state was pelted with a tropical storm) the sun doesn't set until about 10:30.   And it rises around 4:45.   That's AM, people!    When your body feels like 10:30 pm is really 6:30 and 4:45 am is really 7:45, it really messes you up!   I did not sleep much at all in Washington.    That's okay though, it left me with more time to do fun things.   Like go to Pike's Place Market and Pioneer Square.   

I took my K with me everywhere.  It was nice to have Kenley on my trip with me.   

Saturday Spotlight #8

Today's spotlight isn't about something I have been doing, but something I am about to do.  Go on vacation!   Just thinking about leaving my house and my life to take a trip somewhere else makes me breathe a huge sigh of relief. I need a break in the same way the desert needs a rainstorm.  I'm parched and cracked and I need to be rejuvenated.  These next two weeks are one trip directly after another, and while it will certainly be a whirlwind, I am looking forward to them.

Sunday, I fly out to Seattle to visit one of my very best friends who moved there last year.  I'm so excited to see her - and I have never been to the west coast.  I can't wait to go to Pike's Place Market and the Space Needle.  We don't really have any hard and fast plans; we are just going to hang out and see what happens.  I'm a little nervous about what the weather will be like, especially since my wardrobe is extremely limited.  (i.e: nothing fits my newly weird body)   This is also the first time I will be away from Mike for more than a few hours since Kenley died.   He's been a constant support in my life, and it will be strange not being with him.   But, it will be fine.  I'll have my friend and her family and will be super busy.   I know Mike will be just fine too.  We have a great support system surrounding us if he needs anything.

I fly back from Seattle the following Saturday.  Mike is picking me up from the airport at 10pm and we are driving to Tallahassee to spend the night.  The next morning, we are hopping back in the car to continue our road trip to The Big Easy - New Orleans.  

In those first few days after losing Kenley, we decided we needed to take a Life Reset Vacation, where we could go away, reconnect with ourselves and each other, and then come back ready to start our lives again.   We needed to give me enough time to heal physically, so we wanted to try to go in mid-April.  However, timing and finances just didn't come together then.  Mike's mom has timeshare points that she lets us use from time to time.  (Thanks to her, we were able to afford our wonderful Hawaiian Honeymoon!)   We scoured the website for locations that we could get to without airfare and that were available when we could go.   We found NOTHING.   One night, I happened upon a timeshare in New Orleans for the week of July 4th.  I thought - oh, how lucky!  So, I booked it.  As it was processing, I noticed the full date.  2014.   Crap!!   It was too late to refresh the page, so we had to call them to cancel.  I felt like a moron!   Fortunately, we had no problem cancelling and the guy on the phone told us he actually happened to have an opening in early June of THIS year.  Yay!   Even though it fell so close to my Seattle trip, we snagged it.   We knew we wouldn't get anything better so close to our desired travel dates.  So, New Orleans it is!

I've been to New Orleans a few times when I was really little and Mike tarped roofs after Katrina, but neither one of us have been as actual coherent tourists.  I am excited to wander the city streets, see some historical sights, go on some ghost tours, and eat my weight in beignets.  (It's mostly the beignets!)   It will be good for us to have time with each other that doesn't involve cleaning our house, buying groceries, or applying for jobs.   I have family that lives nearby and it will be good to see them too.   We both need this!

I'm working on making a K to carry with me so I can take pictures of Kenley on my travels.   I'll post those when I return.

Now, I am hoping you are thinking, "Rebecca, we will miss your blog posts so much!  Whatever will we do without them for two weeks!?"   Well, you are probably not really thinking that, but that's ok.   I am working on a few posts right now that I am scheduling to publish while I am gone.   I probably won't have enough to span the entire two weeks, but it's something.   (It's looking like a post should hit the net every other day starting Monday.)    Also, I may have some things to say while in Washington and might do a quick post from my Ipad.  However, absolutely NO posting will be done in real time from New Orleans.  That is my time with Mike, and the blog is not invited.  Sorry.   An update will be posted when I get back.  I doubt I'll even go on Facebook that week.   Unless it is to post pictures of my food - because I get excited!  So, be sure to check back over the next two weeks for those scheduled posts, and I'll see you all when I return!   

I am so excited for both of these cities!  It is terrible that I base most of my travel plans around food? 

And on the 7th day

She rested.   Weekend posts at One Pink Balloon are going to be sporadic from now on.   Sometimes, there will be a post.  Sometimes, there won't.   Feel free to check, but don't panic if the date is still yesterday's, or the day before's.  I am fine.  I have not fallen off the face of the earth.  I have not given up.  I'm probably just at the movies.   Or maybe taking a nap.

I am trying to regain some sort of normalcy to my life.   Which is slightly pointless, since I know for a fact that it will never be the way it was before.  But, still, I am determined to try.  

Also, if you haven't already liked my new Facebook page Kenley's Krew, go ahead and do that now. (I'll wait)  I created it as a forerunner to a possible charity page, but also as a page to share the joy in our lives with each other.   I will post happy thoughts and links when I can.   I encourage you to do the same once you've liked it.  Tell the Kenley's Krew Community about the delicious desert you just ate, the dollar you found on the sidewalk, or the inspirational quote you heard.  Tell us a joke.  Share a picture.   We all need some joy in our lives - some of us more than others.   Let's create this joy together!   

Tune in on Monday for your regularly scheduled blog post!

Don't Sweat the Small Stuff

I can actually feel my eyes glazing over when I read people lamenting over various issues in their Facebook statuses.  
"Why does Wal-Mart only have three registers open?  Grrr!"  
" The dog chewed up my last good pair of sneakers!"   
" Is it too much to ask that people use a turn signal??"
I suppose I used to be one of these people as well.   I would moan about having too many papers to grade, or not wanting the weekend to end, or how I looked all over town for a new pair of shoes to wear, but couldn't find just the right ones.  It's because I didn't know any better.  I had not yet been taught this very cruel lesson, which is this:
Life is as fragile as a spider's silk web on a windy day.  It is a gift not everyone receives, yet it is so easily squandered and taken for granted by so many who have it.  
Maybe you are not one of these people.   Maybe you realize just how precious your gift is.   Maybe you treat each moment, and the people in it, with the care and respect it deserves.  Maybe you say "I love you" instead of "in a minute".   Maybe you live your life with purpose, and you place importance on every ticking second, because you know those seconds won't last forever.  Maybe you didn't have to learn this lesson the hard way.

I have learned many lessons in the last six weeks.  About friendship.  About love.  About justice.  About life.  From these lessons, I have learned that all those little things we stress about so much - all those daily irritations and inconveniences - do not matter in the slightest.  Not one bit.  We think they do.  We think they are the reason for our unhappiness.  We think they are the reason our life isn't going the way we want it to at the moment.   If only this person in front of me would quit stepping on the brake so much.  If only my doctor wouldn't keep me waiting for my appointment today.  If only I didn't have so much paperwork to do.  None of it matters.  It's all a part of life.  We think life is so intricate and messy.   We think that all these little things add up and come together to shape our days, our months, our years in such defining ways.  We think we have to organize and categorize every piece of our existence.  Making file folders of our life.  File Folders that we will return to one day when we are old and gray - to remember what we have done with ourselves.   In reality, we only have one folder.  It is labeled NOW.   

Life isn't complicated, we just want it to be.  We want to justify how we feel with the thoughts that this is actually important.  Why would this affect us so much if it wasn't a big deal?   It is because we let it affect us.   We allow the little things to permeate our existence to the point where nothing is little anymore.  Everything is an issue.  Everything is a problem.  Nothing satisfies us.

Stop it.  Be satisfied in each moment. When the line at the supermarket isn't moving, take comfort in the fact you have money to buy your groceries.   When your favorite coffee mug shatters on the floor, be happy in the fact that you didn't slice your foot - and that there's still more coffee in the pot.  Be happy with what you have - this amazing gift of life.  You are alive!  You breathe.  Your heart beats.  Your eyes see, your ears hear, your legs walk.  Your mind spins.  As all of us have learned lately, not everyone is bestowed this gift.  Not everyone gets this chance.   But you do.  And I do.   And I can tell you with absolute certainty that I do not intend to take the slender thread of life for granted anymore.  We are guaranteed nothing, so it is up to us to secure each and every moment for ourselves and for the people we love.  

Kenely is not here to enjoy her life.  She cannot smell the fresh, spring breeze.   She cannot see the bright, warm sunshine.   Her life was stolen from her and she cannot get it back.  But, I can live for the both of us.  I did it for eight months - and I will continue doing it.  That is the reason I got out of bed today and the reason I will get out of bed tomorrow.  I will live for her, and so she will live in me.  Who do you live for? 

  

A Farewell to Facebook

If you are a Facebook friend who follows my blog, you know that today is the last day I will post my blog links to Facebook, and you may be wondering why.  Lately, I have received a few panicked messages about how someone does not want me to stop writing the blog.  I am extremely flattered that everyone cares so much about these posts, and let me assure you that I am not stopping the blog.   I will continue to write and post as usual.  I need to continue to write for my own personal well-being.  I am just not going to link the post to my Facebook page.  Allow me to explain by first posting two pictures:                        

This is a koala

This is a newborn koala

At the very beginning of my journey, I was like the newborn koala.   Small, helpless, confused, and blind.   I didn't know what to do.  I didn't know how to handle my emotions.  I was searching for support and nourishment.   Facebook was like the mother koala.  I crawled into the safe, warm pouch and was comforted.   My friends rallied behind me.  They sent me messages of love.  They commented on my posts with condolences and words of support.  I felt safe and warm in an unknown and dangerous world.  I could not have survived without my circle of friends.   In the pouch, I was nurtured.  I was given the support, the sympathy, and the time I needed to grow stronger.  But now,  I have grown my first coat of fur.  My eyes can focus and see.   I am ready to leave the pouch and try this on my own.  

I am still grieving, but I am no longer helpless.  I have found my outlet (which is this blog), and I no longer need to turn to Facebook to be nurtured.  In fact,   I do not need to be nurtured anymore at all.  Although I am not healed, I know the direction I need to travel and the road I must walk down.  I will still stumble and fall.  My heart still breaks.  My soul is still heavy.   My journey is not over, and I have come to realize that it never really will be.  

I will continue to blog.   I will continue to share my journey with anyone who cares to join me.   But, I will not continue to post to Facebook.   Facebook has become a symptom of my sorrow, and that is not what I want it to be. It is time for my blog to separate itself from Facebook and from me to separate Facebook from my blog.  Facebook will now return to it's pre-tragedy state.  It will be social, not sorrowful.  I just can't continue to have every moment of my life  filled with loss.  I need a safe zone.  I need to be able to log on to Facebook and see what my friends are doing without being bombarded by blog links,  comments on blog links, likes on blog links, likes on comments on blog links, likes and comments on Kenley photos.   I need Facebook to be free of sympathetic vibes.  While I know I chose to make my pain public, it's enough now.  

Every once in a while, I may post a picture that reminded me of Kenley. I might, perhaps, post a link of a blog post I am particularly proud of - or an update of Kenley Around the World, but that's about it as far as my grieving goes.  This blog is where I will pour my soul, where I will open my heart, and clear my mind.   Facebook is where I will post pictures of the lemon bars I baked.   (And I did bake them yesterday!)

Please, continue to read as usual if you so desire. Comments may be made right below each blog post, if you'd like to do so. I read and appreciate every comment made on my blog. (I do respectfully request the sympathy be kept to a minimum.  I know everyone is hurting for me, and while I so very much appreciate it, I do not need to be reminded of it on a daily basis.)    I will keep writing.  I will keep posting.  This journey is far from over, and I still have a long way to go.   Thank you for coming with me.  

Top Ten

A secret sisterhood exists right under your nose.   You'd never know about it unless you were a part of it.  It's not kept hush hush out of snobbery.  Actually, it's not really secret at all.   It's just not discussed in the outside world because no one really wants to hear about it. (And that needs to change, but that's a post for another day)   It's the Sisterhood of Loss.  We are your neighbor, your coworker, your family member, your waitress, your wife, your friend.   We are the woman on the street you pass every day.  We feel alone in the world until we find each other, and when we do, we are less so.  
In the past few weeks, I have met a handful of very strong women whom I am very glad to call my friends.   In my discussions with them and my reflections on my own feelings, I have compiled a list of the Top Ten Things Mothers of Loss want you to know:

Here they are...


10. We don't want to hear about why you think this happened or what purposes it may serve.  We don't care about your rationalizations, we just want our baby back.  Nothing you can say to justify "why" will make us feel better.

9. We are still a mother.  Our baby is just as much of a person to us as anyone else walking and talking around on this Earth.  We might not get to change diapers or wipe noses, but we still look at ourselves as a mom.  And that itself can cause a serious identity crisis when we have no one to mother.

8. The list of "Firsts" since losing our baby or being pregnant is miles long.  Each "First" we attempt hurts just as much as the loss itself because it is a reminder of what we don't have.  Be patient with us if we don't feel like going to a certain restaurant or even completing a simple household chore.   It takes an enormous amount of mental energy to cross items off this list.  

7. "I'm sorry for your loss" is a perfectly acceptable thing to say, and is usually all that is needed.  You don't have to come to us with words of wisdom or profound thoughts, we are probably only half listening anyway.  Just let us know you are grieving too and leave it at that.  Words are not always comfort.

6. "How are you doing?" is a loaded question.  Do you really want a truthful answer?  What do you want us to say?  That we are doing ok?  What is "ok"?  Between "I'm super, thanks for asking." and "I have absolutely no reason to live for one more second", we are probably somewhere in the middle, but it is far too complicated to explain exactly how we are doing in an every day conversation.  Besides, we have already been asked this question more than we can count and are tired of thinking about it - and we will most likely respond with, "I'm doing ok." anyway.

5. We need to be rescued from our thoughts every once in a while.  Taking us out for ice cream is a good start.

4.  You can't protect us from pain.  We have already experienced the worst.  We are broken, but not beyond repair.  Do not treat us like we are made of antique porcelain.   We want to heal and we want to feel normal.   For example, if we are out with you and you (horror of horrors) notice there is a stroller coming toward us, do not try to steer us away or make a big deal out of it.  We saw it before you did.

3. Random texts or messages like "Thinking of you" or "<3" can be disarming to us.   We might have been having an okay day so far, and then we are reminded that we are supposed to be sad.  And then we are sad.  And then we feel guilty because we were not sad for a brief moment of our life.   If you want us to know you are thinking of us, send us a message that is relevant to events.  For example " Something hilarious happened at work today...it was..." or "Going to see a movie tomorrow.  Wanna come?"  Also, if we don't respond to your text, it might be we just weren't up for interaction at that time.   It is not an indication of our feelings towards you.   Take the Magic 8 Ball's advice and "Try again later".

2. We want to have opportunities to talk about our baby, and when we talk about our baby, we WILL cry.  Sometimes, it's because we are sad.  Sometimes, it's because we are angry.   And sometimes, just sometimes, it is because we are so very overcome with love.  Allow us to talk about our baby (and cry) without getting that strange and sympathetic look on your face.  If we see you are uncomfortable, we will stop, even though we don't want to.  Also, there is no reason to be uncomfortable with our grief, or worry about what you should say to us.  You don't have to say anything.  We really just want you to listen.

1. We are forever changed.  We will never be the person we were before.  Never.   This loss will always be a part of our lives and we will deal with it for that long.  We will be visibly sad and detached for a very long time, but that does not mean we will be that way for the rest of our life.   Getting stuck in grief does not mean we will always be stuck.  Moving on does not mean forgetting.  

(By the way, if you find that you have been guilty of any of the above, it's okay.  We know you mean well and we still love you.)

Hey You Guys

The movie The Goonies is one of my favorite movies of all time.  It's one of those movies I loved as a child and it still holds my love today. (Sadly, The Care Bears Movie, which caused me to try to "Care Bear Stare" my way out of troublesome situations as a young child, was unable to stand that test of time.)    For those of you unfamiliar with this cinematic masterpiece, it's the story of a group of kids who search for pirate treasure in hopes of saving their neighborhood from becoming a golf course.   In the face of danger and adversity, they form an unbreakable bond with each other.  In the end, they find more than just treasure, they find each other.  They find true friendship. 

This last month of my life has been full of adversity.  I have lived within a hurricane of pain and emotion.  I have been thrashed against the rocks.  I have been broken into millions of pieces.  But you, my readers, my friends, you have been there for it all.  You have been beside me while I have moaned and cried out in agony.   You stood by me amidst the rocks and extended your hand, knowing it was really all you could do.   I am not "fixed".  I am still finding my footing - and I will continue to fall again and again.    I will probably always be a little bit broken.  There will always be a piece of me that is missing - and the rest of me will never really fit back together properly.  I know that some days will be better than others.  I know that time will help me heal.   But, you have also helped me heal.  Through reading these words and sending me pictures of my daughter's name, you are a part of my recovery.  

Thank you for being a part of this journey, which is far from over.  You might not think you are able to make a difference, but you already have.   I appreciate all of you.  Every day.

  

D-Day

Today is Kenley's due date.   Now, I could go on and on about how sad and angry I feel.  (Which I do).  And I could curse the universe and tell you it owes me a baby.  (Which it does).    But I am not going to do that today.   Today was supposed to be a day of happiness and joy.  A day of laughter and smiles and new beginnings.  So, instead of lamenting my loss, I am going to celebrate a life.   Kenley's life.   Today, Mike and I are going to the tree, and we will see that tree growing tall and healthy, and we will wish Kenley well.   We will thank her for making us parents.   We will tell her we love her and we will remember the joy she brought us for the tiny amount of time she was in our lives.   Today is a day of promise and hope.

So, to rekindle that spark of light, today I share with you the hope we had not so long ago.   To announce our new addition, Mike and I made a video and posted it to Facebook.   I had just gotten my iPad and was excited to play with its features.   We made this movie in an afternoon on the weekend of our first wedding anniversary and had a blast.   We were so excited to share our news with the world.   We were going to have a baby!   Our future was bright and sunny.   You can see our kooky personalities shine in this video - and you can imagine what a firecracker our little Kenley would have been!        

 Today is a day to be hopeful.   Tomorrow may dawn gray and murky.   The sun may be blocked by dark clouds, and my heart may be broken once again.   But the darkness won't claim today.  No, not today.  Today is hers - and she belongs to the light.

FYI

It's important for you to know that my blog posts are not my entire day.   I write what I need to write when I need to write it. I save each post when it's finished and decide each morning when I wake up which one to publish.  I usually have anywhere from 4 - 5 to choose from. Sometimes, I have an idea of which one I want for that day and sometimes I don't.   I post so people who choose to do so may follow my strange journey.  There are posts I have written that you will probably never read.   

As I've said before, I write to sort my emotions and to try to make sense of what is going on inside of me.   When my posts come across as raw and emotional, it is because that moment in my life was raw and emotional.  I needed to organize what I was feeling.  I needed to classify, to clarify, to communicate.  I feel every ounce of emotion in every word you read.   I'm not fabricating.  I'm not embellishing.  Everything you read is 100% real to me at the moment I felt it and the moment I wrote it. However, I want you to know that my life is not always so terrible.  This is the most awful thing I can imagine ever happening to me, and I am absolutely devastated.  My heart is broken and my soul is crushed.   My future is uncertain and I walk on shaky ground.  But I am still walking.   I am still here and I am fighting to stay upright.  No matter what you read, no matter how broken I seem, I want you to know that I am down but not out.  I am bleeding but not dying. Not every second of my day is spent underneath a black cloud.   Every once in a while, the sun does peek through.   I am living my life the very best I know how and I will not let this beat me.  

I know that no one really knows what to say to me.   You send love.  You send prayers and well wishes.  You tell me I'll heal with time.   But, really, there is really nothing you CAN say.  And I don't need you to say anything.  I'm just grateful you're taking this journey with me - and that my words mean something to you too.

Kenley's Krew Update

This morning was "Florida cold", which means it was below 60 - but it warmed up nicely!   When Mike and I arrived at the 5K, my parents and friend Katie were already there.   Over the course of the next half hour, many great friends from work showed up with their shirts on, braving the "cold" and the early morning darkness, and ready to run!   It was so wonderful seeing everyone again - especially those whom I hadn't seen since I left work so unexpectedly that terrible Monday.   Every person brought a hug - every hug brought a smile.   My heart was light and happy knowing that so many people were there because they care about me and Mike - and Kenley.

The course was two laps around the park.   Mike and I set up chairs at the finish line and cheered for everyone who passed - especially those in the teal shirts!   It was a good morning to be out in the world.   Because this 5K was to raise money for fetal care, there were so many children and babies there, but that didn't bother me.  Not today.

After the main race, all of the children were given a pink balloon.   The kids ran from one section of the park to the finish line, where they each released their balloon.   I know they were to honor Brianna Marie, but in my heart, they were also for Kenley.  They were for all babies lost too soon.  Today, the sky was filled with pink balloons.   As I watched the balloons begin to rise, someone handed me a string.   A pink balloon specifically for my baby.   Guess what happened when I let that string go?  Kenley's balloon rose higher and faster than the others - even the ones that had a several second head start.   Her balloon whisked to the side, away from the group, and went on its own path in the sky.   Again.  She did it again.   I am a proud momma today - and for all days.   What a great birthday - spent with good friends who all came together to honor a baby they never met.   My beautiful, wonderful, and obviously independent, Kenley Evelyn.   As long as I'm living, my baby she'll be.  

                                  Kalah and Renee - smiling and walking

                                Kelly and Casey - the T-shirt designers!

                                                   

                               Susie and Tonia - pumped up and doing great!

               My mom and Katie's son Jay - both placed in their age divison!

                                            The Entire Krew

                                       The Pink Balloons!

                          Getting ready to release Kenley's balloon

                         

                                                 A sky full of pink balloons

                 There she goes - the other way - my independent daughter!