Here

Today we went to the cemetery. To pick the place for our daughter to be buried.

*spoiler alert*

We didn’t.

But we looked around and got a idea of our options. We each have strong feelings about a few things, so we are working on merging them together…so far..so good. In some ways being there energized me. I have a memorial stone or plaque to plan for her..

but that enthusiasm was short lived.

Afterwards we drove to a restaurant to eat a late breakfast. I used to go there on Tuesdays when Jennifer went to school. I guess we really only went 6 or so times since she had barely just started kindergarten.. My friend and I started the tradition on kids eat free day..something to look forward to and not miss her too much..

.oh how I miss that innocence. That feeling that I thought I couldn’t handle her being in school for a full day…I should be complaining about getting up early to take her to school and trying to figure out creative lunches…We should be complaining about the lack of places to eat that have gluten free food….Those complaints…all my complaints…once seemed so important. I would give anything…ANYTHING to have them again.

It reminds me of our struggle to become parents…for those that don’t know it was filled with 5 pregnancy losses and 5 IVFs and failed adoption attempts before we finally became mommy and daddy to her….and then our other 3. Once I became I mom I truly cherished it. Always. I wanted to join the ranks totally…and be able to complain. And I did, but maybe a bit more subdued.

I feel like that again now.

But I wonder if it will ever happen? When Jonathan goes to school (I am already so worried for that day for soo many reasons) will I be able to be even remotely like other moms? Will I feel frustrated about packing his lunches? Or will I feel sadness doing it for only one child…my not supposed to be oldest…?

So in the parking lot walking in. My chest started to tighten and my breathe came fast…Tony took me back to the car..forgiving me as I cried. On the drive home I told him I wanted to go the beach. So we did. 

It was a good drive together. Just us and Charlotte. We talked about a lot. Things that are hard to talk about with the boys around. We sat and looked at the ocean. Together, yet alone in our grief. And in public. Crying…so unlike me. But I am allowing it to happen…hoping one day…letting the bad out will allow the good back in.

I thought today that I feel like I am living in jello. That every moment is so hard and deliberate and exhausting. And that I cant really see 2 feet in front of me.

New people are reaching out. I am meeting so many new people…part of a club I never wanted to join. The cost of membership far too high.

A dad who lost his 8 yr old nearly 11 yrs ago to DIPG read Jennifer’s obituary. And another mother that lost her son 20 months ago. He told me it gets better. But grief sometimes stops him in his tracks still at unexpected times…and she..well I think she is still in the thick of it.

I am thankful…so grateful for the people reaching out and stepping in..

but

I want my old life back. My family…my perfect little family of 6.

The one I had just a few months ago. Right before she started kinder. When I was rocking a sleeping  3 month old watching my other 3 dance around talking on the phone about wanting to freeze time because my life was so perfect…

and she was here.