Everything happens for a reason

Being back to work full-time is eating me alive.  I am going to work on cutting my hours some.  I come home so worn out.  But the days themselves are getting easier.  Slowly I am getting back into the routine of work, and the busyness of this time of year makes the days fly by.  I am hoping I can find the right balance soon.

The good days are getting better and more frequent.  The bad days are getting worse and better all at the same time.  Tears are no longer something I fight off and feel embarrassed about.  They are just part of me - and the whole Carter experience.  Sometimes it almost feels good to cry - to acknowledge my loss and let myself experience it.

In some ways, getting back into the routine of work again has been good for me.  I work with some truly amazing people who have been so good to me.  In talking to my co-workers, I have had a couple revelations lately.  Some of them are the complete inverse of what I have been trying to convince myself of.

The past 8 months have sucked.  There is no denying that.  The entire time, I have continually told myself to be thankful for what I have, and am constantly reminding myself that things could always be worse.  Every time I catch myself feeling sorry for myself (and trust me, there were plenty of times while I was pregnant that it was hard to see the silver lining), I try to narrate a pep talk in my head.  I feel guilty for not being more thankful - there are so many people who have less than I do!

But one day this past week at work, I thought to myself, "My life sucks sometimes".  And for the first time, I didn't feel guilty thinking it.  Because, guess what?  It is true!  I don't know how to explain that I haven't really accepted that fact before this.  Even if the words have crossed my lips, it all felt like a story I made up.  Even in the midst of the worst misery, I have had the hardest time accepting that this is my life now.  But that other day at work, it all clicked into place.  It was as if I could finally take ownership of my hardships, and it was ok.

I still know that things could always be worse, but it is ok that I am not happy with how they are now.  I have a right to be pissed off about the past 8 months.  It sounds so silly, but it was such a relief to accept that.

I tend to genuinely believe that everything happens for a reason.  Even if I can't see it clearly right away - there is always a reason.  Or at the very least, the events of our past lead us down the path to our present.  And if there hadn't been hardships along the way, our present would be drastically different.  How though, do I reconcile Carter dying with "everything happens for a reason"?  How or why could there possibly be a reason for us to lose our son and brother?  It is just plain old not fair.  Just because this is the way things have to be, to get us where we are going in life (wherever that is) doesn't mean that I have to like it.

Our new normal has been changing so much lately.  Evolving and becoming familiar all at once.  Livie has been asking many questions about dying and Heaven.  She checks for the moon outside nightly to say hi to Carter.  And her little thoughts continue to surprise me.

I honestly thought the mysterious falling ornament had been packed away with the rest of the Christmas things.  But, a couple days ago, Livie came running towards me with it in her hand.  "Look mom, look!  There is a heart on the bottom of this ornament!  That is Carter telling you that he loves you!"

And sure enough, when I turned the ornament over, there was a heart on the bottom.

I decided to take a picture of the ornament, and was testing out locations (I miss all the good sunshine while I am at work, and I hate taking pictures with the flash.  I never did find a spot I liked.) when I noticed that the snow-globe of the ornament was getting all cloudy.  I kind of thought to myself how disappointing that was.  It didn't look that way at Christmas, and it didn't make for a great picture now.

No sooner had I thought about it, then the ornament fell and broke.  I totally cried over the ugly thing.

Even after the cloudy snow-globe was gone, I still couldn't get a good picture of it.  Time and time again, only the base would come into focus.  I couldn't get a clear picture of the snowman for anything.  (I swear, I really do know how to use my camera)

(if you haven't figured it out in past posts - just move your mouse over the picture to see the bottom)

So, for what it is worth, here is the ornament.  Broken globe and all.

Another first

"Your friend got a scooter for Christmas too!". The words left my mouth before I could stop them. I knew Livie would be so excited by the prospect of a 'scooting buddy' this summer, that I started telling her the good news before I even realized that she was trying to talk to me, and that I was about to speak over her own news.

So many times in the last eleven weeks (11 weeks already!) Livie has spoken such nuggets of wisdom and reassurance that I often wonder where they came from. So many times she has known exactly what to say in order to comfort me or to bring tears to my eyes - depending on what I needed at that moment. Her innocent comments come when I least expect them and most need them. But yesterday, I missed one. 

Livie was running towards me, eager and excited to tell me something. She started in, "Mom! Baby Jesus..." and then she stopped. Because I had interrupted her thought with the news that one of her friends had received the same glorious Christmas present that she had - a scooter. And whatever it was that she wanted to tell me was lost. Her mind had already moved on to dreams of summer scooter riding on the sidewalk, and all I got from her was a blank stare when I asked her what it was that she wanted to tell me about baby Jesus.

These days, her stories of baby Jesus always involve Carter in some way. And my mind was already on him after an emotional afternoon.  A story would have done my heart good.

One of my friends (and her son, one of Livie's friends, who is also the proud new owner of a scooter) recently welcomed a beautiful new baby boy into their family.  I had several friends who were due with little boys in the weeks following my due date.  All of these other little boys have now arrived safely.  And I am so grateful that my friends have been spared the the heartache that we are going through.  But I won't lie - I am also oh so jealous  heartbroken that they have their babies and I don't have mine.

Yesterday afternoon I had the great privilege to go meet one of these little boys.  I was genuinely excited to meet him, and also a little scared for my heart.  I am so glad I went.  Of course there were tears.  And I left with a deep longing for Carter that I can't shake.  But I had to see a baby sometime.  I can't go the rest of my life avoiding newborn boys.  And my friend couldn't have been more wonderful.  She let me snuggle her little guy and cry my tears.  I know she will read this, so I want her to know how blessed I feel to have such an understanding friend.

This summer our kids will scooter up and down the sidewalk.  And as we run behind them, her arms will be full, and mine empty.  I will watch her son go through countless firsts that Carter will never experience.  At some point I will learn how to enjoy those moments for what they are.  But for now, I am just thankful to have that first newborn snuggle under my belt.

Signs

On Thursday, a friend asked if I had ever seen a ghost (I haven't) and the conversation eventually turned to 'signs'. My only contribution to the conversation was a comment that every night I pray for the chance to see Carter in my dreams, but it never happens.

I am not sure what I think about signs, or the thought that loved ones who have passed can communicate with us from Heaven. After all, I was always taught that Heaven isn't about us, but about God.

But, I do know that I have a set of snowflake pictures that I can't explain. And, I know that I had a very interesting night Thursday night.

After getting home from work on Thursday, I started getting a horrible stomach ache. By the time I went to bed at 11:00, I was curled up in a ball with one of the worst stomach aches of my life. At the time, I compared it to the feeling I had when I went into labor with Carter.

I woke up a couple hours later - at the exact same time I woke up the night I went into labor with Carter. I couldn't sleep, so I got out of bed and curled up with the Internet in our living room. My stomach was in a knot and I had pain shooting through my lower back. As I debated calling my doctor, I thought I heard something. But it had to have been just Shawn and Livie who were both snoring away in their respective beds.

Then, there it was again -  a jingle bell.  I looked over at the Christmas tree, and it was ever so slightly rocking back and forth (like the after effect of someone having bumped it).  All the ornaments were swaying and one of them fell off.

We have no pets. No drafts or anything else.  I could not figure out what caused it.

Shortly thereafter my stomach ache faded and I went back to bed.

I didn't think too much of the mysterious falling ornament until I was picking up last night (yes, I left it laying under the tree for two days). I remember Liv hanging the ornament on the tree when we decorated, but I have no idea where we got it or who it was from. When I lifted the ornament I saw what was written on the front - "Most Loved Mom"

I'll admit that I cried when I read it.

I am still not sure what I believe about signs, but I can't explain Thursday night.