Santa Claus is Coming to Town

Last weekend we went to see Santa Claus. How does one go see Santa when they are on bed rest? Well, we needed to get creative.

When we got to the mall, John dropped me off and I sat on a bench at the front while he and Keller parked the car. When they came in, Keller stayed with me on the bench and John went to get me a wheelchair. Yes, a wheelchair. I felt bad getting a wheelchair because I'm not actually disabled. But I'm not allowed to walk around or even sit upright for very long. Plus the mall wasn't busy as we got there when they first opened and I didn't think there was going to be a mad rush on wheelchairs.

Besides, I've already missed Keller's Halloween parade at school, trick or treating, and his Thanksgiving feast at school, among the regular everyday things I can't do with him. I couldn't miss Santa. This bed rest thing has me missing out on a lot and I couldn't miss yet another thing.

Thankfully we didn't have to wait too long for Santa. I was parked over on the side watching everyone. It was kind of amusing. Then Keller gets to Santa and tells him he wants a race car. Since when? He tells us Transformers and Bakugans and whatever else and he tells Santa a race car? It reminded me of the scene in The Christmas Story where Ralphie, who wants a Red Rider Bee Bee Gun gets nervous when he sees Santa and tells him he wants a football. Thankfully this Santa wasn't as creepy.

After Santa we went to lunch. All in all, it was a great day. It felt good to be out in the world and I was so happy to have been there to see Santa with Keller. Even if I did feel like an ass sitting in a wheelchair.

And to top it all off, this morning Keller said he hoped Santa leaves something for his babies. He wants them to have something to open when they come home. It was too sweet. And I cried.

Merry Christmas!

Are You Ready For Some Football?

Most people that know me know that I am not a football fan, so this post's title is probably a bit confusing. Well, we watched The Blind Side over the weekend and I'm now a little obsessed. If you haven't watched this movie, you really should. I don't often write about movies but this one deserves a mention.

It's the true story of Michael Oher and it's such a great feel-good story. I won't get into tremendous detail, but he is the son of a crack-addict mom and a dad who spends most of Michael's life in prison. He's taken away from his mom and goes from foster home to foster home for much of his teen years. While he's staying with a friend, his friend's dad actually manages to get him enrolled in a private Christian high school (the dad was trying to enroll his own son and managed to persuade the football coach to work to enroll Michael as well).


One day Michael meets little SJ at school and ultimately meets his mom, Leigh Anne Tuohy. Well, this woman is a dynamo. She and the Tuohy family take Michael in and help him find his way. They're the only people he feels comfortable with and trusts and through that trust he's able to believe in himself. They're the only people that take Michael seriously and see what a wonderful boy he is.

So much happens for Michael and the Tuohy family in such a short time. He is able to raise his grades (through teachers actually taking time to teach him in a way he understands and well as with the help of a tutor the Tuohy's hire), play football and ultimately graduate from high school. He earns a scholarship to several colleges and decides on Ole Miss. The movie ends with him being drafted by the Baltimore Ravens.

I left a lot out, so you're just going to see it now. It's such a good story. I wish there were more people like Michael and the Tuohys in the world. If people could just see past what's on the surface and actually get to know someone, really know them, lives could change. Perhaps it's the pregnancy hormones fueling this fire here, but chances are I'd be obsessing about this even without the hormones. There's a part in the movie where they read The Story of Ferdinand and it's one of my all-time favorite children's books. See, Ferdinand is a bull in Spain; he has a peaceful soul and does not want to fight like his other bull friends. He wants to sit under a cork tree as he smells the nearby flowers. Michael is Ferdinand the Bull. You should read that book too :)

I was so moved I actually watched the Baltimore Ravens game yesterday. And within minutes of me turning it on, Michael Oher gets hurt (sprained knee) and is out for the rest of the game. I'm such a good luck charm. This is why I don't watch football ;)

Watch the movie! If you aren't moved, you have a heart of stone.

I Thank You

Yesterday was Thanksgiving. It was a good day. We layed around most of the day and then went to friends' house for a great dinner. It was a good thing I brought my stretchiest maternity pants to change into! Most of my maternity pants are already too tight for my expanding belly, so I was very glad I brought the biggest ones I own!

And while I don't need a single day to sit down and reflect on all that I'm thankful for, I wanted to share with the world what really means the most to me. This year we feel more thankful than ever. We are so hopeful that we'll be bringing home two new babies in a few months. I am almost 22 weeks now and things seem to be going really well. The babies are growing and kicking and all the problems we've been having up to this point seem to be under control. I'm not off bed rest but at least I know things are looking good. I know we won't be out of the woods until they're home with us, but we feel really encouraged and happy that things are looking so good.

We are also thankful, of course, for our sweet son, Keller. He fills us with such joy everyday. We had a nice long conversation about how Spiderman, Superman, Batman and others work so hard to keep people safe from the bad guys. Did you know Spiderman lives at the zoo in order to keep people from fighting the animals? I didn't know that and I'll be sure to look for him the next time we're there.

We are extremely thankful for our friends and family who have been such a source of support for us. They've always been there for us, but this past year wouldn't have been possible for us to deal with if we didn't have such a strong support group. And to everyone who has helped us since I've been on bed rest: you're amazing. The dinners, lunches, visits, calls, emails, etc. have just meant so much to us. Just knowing that people are looking out for my family, it makes me cry. And to know these two babies will not only be welcomed into a home full of love for them, there is a whole system of people that have loved them and helped them long before they were born. It really is too much for me to think about without getting emotional about it.

And I am so incredibly thankful for my husband who has taken this whole bed rest thing on with minimal complaints, grumbles and issues. He is handling all of it and he is just taking it in stride. I am so grateful for him and Keller taking care of me, I can't even put it into words. It's such a long road ahead of us that it's overwhelming for me, but John just does it. I don't know what I would do without him.

I hope everyone had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Enjoy the time with your friends and family.

Do You Want To Know A Secret?

I've been keeping a secret for many weeks now. But I think I finally have the courage to tell. John and I are pregnant. I'm over 20 weeks along now and I guess it's time to spill the beans.

Obviously, people in my in-person world know since I've been showing for a long time. But I have been reluctant to write anything about it because of everything we went through last year and what we've been through up to this point. It's been a tough road already. But I can't live my life waiting for something to happen and I deserve some happiness. I am hoping and praying that everything will be all right and I feel ready to talk about it.

We found out we were pregnant the day before the year anniversary of losing our baby. It was surreal. I had been taking tests all week and they were all negative. I wasn't going to take another one but since I had it, I might as well take it. It was faintly positive, which meant I needed to go buy 8 more tests. Which I took half when I got home (all positive) and half the next day (all positive). This was all on a Friday, so I didn't go to the doctor for a blood test until Monday. We had a nice family weekend and I went into the doctor's office first thing on Monday to have blood drawn.

The results came back in a couple of days and my hormone levels were high, which was a good sign. Then that Saturday we left for the beach. The vacation was fun, and I had a sonogram set up for the Tuesday after we got back. My doctor wanted to start monitoring me regularly because of my history.

Well, that Tuesday came and I had the sonogram. We saw the heartbeat and I was crying and it was wonderful. Then the technician saw something strange and was poking around. That something strange turned out to be another heartbeat...another baby. We're having twins. I was floored and in all honesty, here I am 3 months later and I still don't believe it half the time.

I was alone at the appointment since John had a meeting. But I drove right over to his office to tell him. He met me in the parking lot and here is a summary of our conversation:

I show him the sonogram pictures.
Me: Do you notice anything different than what we're used to seeing?
Him: No, should I?
Me: Keep looking.
Him: I don't see anything.
Me: John, we're having twins.
Him: You're shitting me.

And that pretty much sums it up. After a lot of exhaling and tears, we hugged and he had to get back to work. I called my parents and told them. They were shocked of course. In fact, I could hear my dad interjecting a "Holy shit" every now and then.

Needless to say, the past 20 weeks have been exciting, overwhelming, terrifying and worrisome. I had my cerclage surgery back in September and thankfully that all went well. I have a mack daddy cerclage. It's a permanent cerclage (most people get a temporary one that is removed before delivery). This is a crazy stitch that doesn't get removed (I have to have a c-section). The surgery was an insane 2-hour procedure and even though I was numb I was awake the entire time. I will not get into the actual experience of the surgery as it was quite awful. Thankfully the anesthesiologist talked to me the entire time or I would have been crying throughout the surgery. Recovery was tough on me and it was very painful. But my wonderful doctor is confident it was successful and after almost 2 months, it looks great. But we've still had our share of scary moments, including a trip to the emergency room a few weeks ago.

I won't get into tremendous detail, but I was having very similar symptoms to what I had when we lost the baby last year. Thankfully, all is all right and the babies are perfectly fine. I have what is called a subchorionic hemorrhage. It's common and I've had a couple throughout the pregnancy. But this one was dangerously close to one of the placentas and it was causing a lot of bleeding and cramping. So....I've been on bed rest since then (I'm in my 4th week of bed rest now). And thankfully it's working because it seems as though the bleed is either too small to see or it's gone. YAY!

So, I am still terrified that something will happen to prevent me from bringing home my babies. But I don't know if that will go away until I actually bring them home. All I can do is think positively, continue to pray and take care of myself. And that's what I'm doing. I feel like all of this has to be meant to be. To find out we're pregnant the day before the anniversary? And then to find out it's two? It's all too much to be a coincidence. I have to believe it's happening this time and everything we went through is behind us.

Til There Was You

Today we celebrate our 9th wedding anniversary.

In total, John and I have been together for 11 years. For those of you who don't know, we used to work together, back when I did laboratory research. I will never forget the shameless flirting, the secret glances, etc. Everyone that worked there was young and fun. There were happy hours, parties, etc., at least once a week. That's pretty much how things got started for me and John: at a drunken New Year's party. While it doesn't sound romantic, it was. We shared a New Year's kiss. John said, "You know, this changes everything." And it did. We tried to keep things light and all that, but it was all for naught. We were inseparable and the rest is history.

I was thinking about our time together and I can honestly say the bond between us is stronger now than it was back then. And that bond has gotten its strongest because of everything we have been through in the past year. The one good thing that has come from all the pain is that we are unbreakable and we can get through anything as long as we're together.

Amor vicit omnis. It's Latin for 'love conquers all." That's what is inscribed on our wedding bands. We had already been through a lot by the time we got married and now, 9 years later, we are stronger and happier than ever. And while I don't know where our path will lead us, I do know I will be there with my best friend, my partner, and my love.

Everyday

I can't believe I used to blog everyday. I used to write a lot about nothing. Maybe that's why no one reads this ;)

Things here have been good. The year anniversary came and we had a nice, family day. We took a ride out to Lake Linganore and drove around there for a while. We had never really been out that way. It felt like we were hours away from the craziness of where we live, but it was really only about 45 minutes north of here. On the way home, we picked up a hydrangea bush to plant in the memory of our lost baby. I wanted to plant something that would bloom at this time of year and hydrangea seemed to really feel right. I had a lot of hydrangea in our wedding flowers and in my bouquet and I love the color. It made me feel a little better to plant that and look at it each day since.

A week after the anniversary we headed out of town for a much-needed vacation. We went to Duck, NC with 5 other families. We rented a house with a million rooms and there were about 20 of us there. We were a little apprehensive about how it would go with all those people in one place. But we had an absolute blast. Everyone got along, all the kids and all the adults! We weren't in each other's pocket the entire time as everyone kind of did their own thing throughout the day and we all congregated at lunch and dinner time. It was a really great time. We were all a little depressed when we left. Keller was silent for at least the first hour of the drive home.

August flew by in a blur and before we knew it, it was time for Keller to start kindergarten. He is still at the same school (Goddard School) and not in public school kindergarten. Montgomery County has a cut off that kids need to be 5 by September 1st. You can test the kids early if their birthday falls between then and October 31st, I think. We decided not to test Keller. While academically, he'd be fine, we didn't feel he was really mature enough and ready for school. Everyone we spoke to said that giving him that extra year would be better for him in so many ways. So we did. And it just so happens that Goddard has an accredited kindergarten program so he'll receive everything and more of kindergarten this year. Then next year, if we feel he's ready, we can start him in 1st grade. Or he'll do kindergarten again. Whatever works for him.

I had a hard time dealing with him starting kindergarten. He is such a big boy now. He's his own person and does his own thing. I cannot believe my baby is turning 5 in a week. Time really does fly by and no matter what you do, it keeps on ticking. I've really tried to enjoy life more and really be present in the moment. So much this past year I wasn't present, I was phoning it in and just couldn't deal with things. But I finally feel present in my own life again. I can only thank Keller and John for that since they're the reason I need to be present. I don't have forever with them and I need to get my time in with them while I can. Wow, this post certainly became much more serious than I intended.

Anyway, thanks to those that still read this blog. I'll try to post more often!

I Try

Ok, so that last post was pretty positive. Maybe I should just leave it at that. But as the anniversary date draws near, I'm finding it more and more difficult to be strong and upbeat.

I cannot believe it's been almost a year. I thought things would be so different at this time. Well, last year I thought we would be welcoming a baby. And then once I finally accepted that wouldn't happen, I thought this time would at least hold something else, something to look forward to. But it doesn't. I feel like I'm in the same place I was after we lost the baby: hopeless and left behind.

It's really hard to see how much has changed for so many people in this past year. New babies, new homes, new jobs, etc. And here I am in the same place I was. Sure, maybe I'm not in as desolate a place. But I don't feel like my life has moved forward at all. I've changed jobs within this past year, and that has been a great change and something that has really helped me move forward. But as far as my personal life...ugh.

It's really hard to be in a personal funk. So much of my job is being positive and motivating other people. If people only knew how hard it is for me to do that while I feel the way that I do. I feel like I live a double life and I'm so exhausted by the end of the day, it's crazy. Sometimes working with other people is helpful. I get inspired by them and it makes it that much easier to get through my day. But at this time, it's not really that helpful. I just want to crawl in a hole and stay there. I would love to just sleep for days.

I don't understand why people don't talk more about these things. I can somewhat understand why people don't want to talk about miscarriage. Well, maybe not. It's a loss just like any other, maybe worse in some ways, and it should be treated with the same respect and consideration as anyone else dealing with loss. But it isn't. I have to put on a brave face and act like nothing happened to me. I have to act like there isn't someone missing from my family. It's so not fair. I just wish people would acknowledge what we are going through. It would make this anniversary a lot less painful if I could actually talk about it.

Sigh.

Here Comes The Sun

I can't believe it's been so long since I've posted.

I've been wanting to post. I have formulated posts in my head and thought about what I would want to talk about. It all comes back to the baby and what I've been dealing with in getting through our loss. I know not everyone really wants to read about it so I don't post. But then I think, "Um...it's my blog. My thoughts."

Anyway, the past few months have flown by. A lot has happened but a lot hasn't happened too. I feel like I really turned a corner with my 50K back in March. Since then I have run another marathon, a few half marathons, a 10-miler, etc. Running has really been my salvation. It's been fun. But I have also come upon the date where I found out I was pregnant last year and now a lot of my time is spent thinking about what I was doing last year at this time and how different I thought things would be now.

But I feel like I actually have the strength to deal with it now. I can sit and think about what we lost and not feel that hole in my heart. I am not over it, please don't think I've moved on. But I feel like I've found my strength...I have finally found the strength to not only wake up each morning but get out of bed.

Back one morning in April, I was taking Keller to school and "Here Comes The Sun" came on. Keller and I listen to the Beatles every time we're in the car. And while this song has come on a million times before, this one morning it came on and it hit me. I was welcoming the sun in my life. I could feel happiness again and it felt good.

Wow. It was huge. There were tears streaming down my face as I listened to the words to the song. The sun was shining on me and the long, cold winter filled with sadness and despair was behind me. The memories are still there and I can still feel the sadness and I miss what would have been, but I can look forward now. I can see that there's still a huge, long sun-filled road ahead of me.


Here Comes The Sun
The Beatles (George Harrison)

Here comes the sun, doo da doo doo
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's alright

Little darling
It's been a long, cold, lonely winter
Little darling
It feels like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's alright

Little darling
The smiles returning to their faces
Little darling
It seems like years since it's been here

Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun, and I say
It's alright

Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes
Sun, sun, sun, here it comes

Little darling
I see the ice is slowly melting
Little darling
It seems like years since it's been clear

Here comes the sun, here comes the sun and I say,
It's alright

Happy Trails

Wow. I've never thought I'd write the word "happy" again. It only took over 8 months to feel it, but there it is. I'm a little happy.

I guess the turnaround was my 50K on March 6th. That was a huge one for me. I wrote a lot about it my running blog, but not really the big emotional part of it.

I signed up for this race in October of 2009. It was a sad time for me and I needed something to focus on. I needed a direction because at the time I didn't feel like my life had any direction. We had made all these plans and they weren't going to happen and I just didn't know how to deal with that. As a lifelong planner, it scared the crap out of me. I was so depressed and miserable, I just needed something to look forward to. I knew that registering for a race would give me some sort of purpose and another reason to get out of bed in the morning.

I wasn't sure what race I wanted to do. Another marathon? Nah. I needed something completely different. Something low-key and not stressful. Why put pressure on myself? Because if I chose another marathon, I'd have it in the back of my head to train hard, improve my time, etc. I didn't want that.

I started trail running in September. It was a liberating thing to do. It's actually quite hard to be sad and in a depressed state of mind when running through the woods. Getting covered in mud and crossing creeks and jumping over rocks is so much fun, it's hard not to run with a goofy smile on your face. Well, for me anyway. So, I decided to focus on a trail run. And that left me with the Senceca Creek Greenway 50K. It's a 31+ mile run on the Greenway Trail from Damascus to Potomac. Sign me up.

I'm not going to say that training was easy and the road to the race was paved with gold. Because it wasn't. I still battled my emotions and my depression. My friends were all having their babies, my due date was approaching, and it was getting hard to focus on things. I felt like I was going through the pain of losing the baby all over again only it was worse the second time around.

January 5th came and we had a very nice family day at the National Harbor. We went to this crazy Ice show and had a nice lunch. We placed flowers in the Potomac River in honor of our lost son. It was a very sad day though being together and acknowledging it really helped.

January itself was a long, cold month. Between the emotional side of things, work getting busy, the weather being ugly, I was just on autopilot. I just went through the motions of being alive and getting through my day. Training for the race was difficult because of the weather but I did what I could.

February came and there was more snow and ice. Work was crazy since we were moving locations. Then we headed down to Myrtle Beach for the marathon and half marathon. Well, the races were canceled because of the weather (it snowed there and it was the most snow they had in 10 years). I felt like there was some cosmic thing against me and I just couldn't get a break. WTF? Who goes to Myrtle Beach and worries about snow storms? Only we do.

I did the best I could preparing for the race for the rest of February. I ran as much as I could, I rested when I needed to and I didn't think about how sad I was. I just compartmentalized my emotions and basically just stuffed them down as far as they would go. I know, maybe not the healthiest thing to do, but it worked for me.

Then came the week before the race. I was nervous about whether or not I could finish. I did a couple of trail runs and they went well, which helped give me some confidence. Race morning came and it was a cool but gloriously beautiful morning. And something changed in me. I was out there on my own, doing something only for me. Something I needed desperately. And I finally felt good. I felt hopeful.

The race itself was hard but fun. Friends ran with me and gave me a boost. John and Keller saw me a number of times along the course, which was great. It wasn't really as bad as I thought it would be. Because of the snow, I wasn't able to do a lot of the long runs I had hoped to do. So I was really nervous about how I'd do in the race. Well, it was long and slow but I got through it better than expected.

Which was an odd experience for me. I felt really strong, both physically and mentally. I had an absolute blast running the race through the snow, ice and mud. I loved crossing the creek in ankle-deep water and running in wet shoes. I just really had a great time. Don't get me wrong, I hit my wall and was tired at times. But overall, it was my best race experience.

When I crossed the finish line, it just hit me. All the emotion and anguish I had been through just came flooding out of me. I bent over and just cried. I couldn't believe I had made it through the last seven months. The finish line to the race was kind of like a finish line to my grief. Trust me, my grief isn't over, but I felt like I had made it through the hardest part of it. I made it through the worst time of my life.

I have to say that since the race, I have felt good. I'm not saying I haven't thought about what we've lost or what could have been. I have. And I've cried. I will always be sad about that and will never really be over it. But I feel a sense of peace about what happened. I'm accepting it and I'm trying to move forward. I feel like running those 31+ miles brought me to a place where I can see things clearly and I can deal with them better.

My road hasn't ended. It's only just beginning.

On the Road Again

I won't bore you with a long, sad post about how hard things have been for us. All I'll say is that it has been tough, life has truly sucked at times and it has felt that we would never get through this.

But January ended and we made it out. We feel better than we have felt in many months. We are by no means over what happened, but we are not as lost as we once were. Life is moving forward and we are actually moving with it.

Next week I'll run the Myrtle Beach Marathon. This will be my first race since the Cherry Blossom 10-miler last April. So almost a year ago. When I think about everything that has happened since last April, it makes my head spin. That seems like a lifetime ago and I feel like I've aged 20 years in less than one.

But I am really looking forward to this race. It's the first one in a very busy race-filled period. The marathon is Saturday the 13th, there's a bike ride the next day that we're doing. Then my 50K, the big one, is March 6th. I'm running National Marathon on March 20th. Then the new 13.1 series race in New York on April 3rd, Cherry Blossom on the 11th and then the American Odyssey Relay on April 24-25.

I signed up for all of these races to give me something to focus on and as a way to deal with my grief. I needed to have something for myself that I could pour myself into and for me, that's running. I got past the very emotional block I was having when I started running again and I am having fun now. There's no pressure to run in a certain time, these races are for pure fun. John and I are actually running a couple together, which we haven't done since before we had Keller.

So allow me for a moment to pat myself on the back. I am proud of myself for making it to the other side. I could have taken so many different roads after losing the baby. And I was headed down a pretty dark one. But I didn't. I chose not to. And I'm glad I did.

Don't Stop Believing

Hello 2010!

Yesterday was the last day of what we hope is the worst year we ever have. I know things can always be worse than what we have at present, and here's to hoping that this is the worst pain we'll ever know.

I am excited about the new year. Can you believe it? I'm excited about something for the first time in 5 months. I am adopting a new way of looking at things, I'm trying anyway.

About a month ago, I got in touch with this somewhat local athlete, Brian Boyle, to see if he could come to Fleet Feet for a fun run. He just released a book and I wanted him to come for a book signing and then run with us. He is coming, this Thursday, January 7th.

Brian is a young guy, only 23, and he's seen more sadness, pain and despair than most people do in their entire lives. When he was 18 he was in a horrific car accident that should have killed him. It did kill him, he was pronounced dead 8 times, but he fought and came back, literally, from the dead. I won't go into the details of his accident and his injuries, you can read his amazing book, but I will touch upon his recovery because I feel very connected to his story.

His accident occurred in July, and in addition to that he had some other family hardships that occurred in subsequent Julys. In fact, one chapter of his book is called, "July is the Cruelest Month." Well, I can relate to that. Our lives changed forever this past July. Anyway, Brian spent years working tirelessly to overcome his injuries. His accident occurred 5 years ago. And he was told he probably would never walk again. But he somehow found the strength, through the love, support, and courage from his family and friends, to fight on and work. And he did work. Three years after his accident Brian finished a half Ironman triathlon (70.3 miles of swimming, biking and running). Then 45 days after that he completed the granddaddy of triathlons: the Ironman World Championship at Kona, Hawaii. This is 140.6 miles of swimming, biking and running. And he did it. He's still doing it too. This past fall he ran 5 marathons in 5 weeks. He's a Rock Star.

I'm writing about this because I feel completely connected to him and his story. He overcame tremendous sadness and pain to live the life he always wanted. He talked about his hopes and dreams for himself, the plans he had for himself, and how they were dashed because of his accident. But he found the courage to make those dreams happen anyway. While I could never imagine what he went through, I know what it's like to have plans and dreams dashed. I know what it's like to have dreams that will never come true through no fault of my own. We can't control everything that happens to us. Our loss was something out of our hands.

I read his book in less than 24 hours. It is an amazing story. I really relate to his parents. They are really great people and I feel connected to them for some reason. It's weird to feel connected to people you've never met.

There's a quote Brian uses in his book that really resonates with me: "A person hasn't lived until he has almost died, and for those who have fought for life, the world has a flavor the protected will never know." I feel like I have been fighting for life for the past 5 months. No, my story is not the same as Brian's. I didn't almost die. But part of me did die on July 24th when we lost our son. We have been trying to come back from the dead ever since.

So I look to 2010 as a year of coming back from the dead. I'm using my races as a way to leave the pain and sorrow behind us. We will never forget our baby, we will always be sad about our loss. But we have to move forward. We have to be happy again.

That's my New Year's resolution: to find a place of happiness in each and every day. I may have sadness in that same day. I may cry and scream and ask "why" but I will also laugh and smile and find a piece of happiness. I deserve it.

Happy New Year.