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.