Positively Adrift

The best way to describe the way I’m feeling right now is lost.

I had this plan, and it was a good one. I finally settled on it after much deliberation and research. This plan has been in motion for almost two years now.

I’ve finished the lower level classes needed for nursing, now I just need my biology classes. I figured I could handle being pregnant and taking anatomy and two other classes over the spring semester (while still working, being a mom & wife mind you). Then I would take the summer off to enjoy my new bundle of joy, go back to school in the fall and spring to finish off my classes, then head off to a nursing program. Juggling being a mother, wife, worker, student, etc. would be a breeze right?

Well none of this would come to be.

I ended having a very difficult and devastating pregnancy, with most of it chronicled in my first blog about the girls called 2souls1heart.net.

And the sad part? I thought I could just hop back into my normal work and school routines soon after the girls past.

I’ve spiraled recently, picked myself up just to be knocked back down again.

And Yoda didn’t know what the hell he was talking about when he said “do or do not, there is no try.”

I used to believe this, but some things are completely out of our control. And its ok to try, and fail, that’s how we learn and grow.

Plus, some things are just meant to be, “happen for a reason,” written in the stars, or some crap like that. Sometimes, doing my best will not be enough.

But man am I trying.

I did all I could to help the girl’s chance of survival. I went to every check up. Took every shot. Was poked and prodded by countless doctors and nurses in places where the sun don’t shine. Went to every specialist. Skin stretched to the max. Machines strapped to me, and me strapped to them.

And I’m still trying now.

Trying to stay mentally and physically healthy for myself and so I can take care of my family. Trying to stick with my new jobs even though I’m anxious as heck. Figuring out how to carry on with my life and what career path I truly want to pursue. And trying to act “normal” (whatever that is) so nobody worries too much or judges me.

But I’ve changed. The proof is in the pudding.

What I once was striving for isn’t fitting with the new woman I have become, and I’m coming to terms with this realization. This has been made very clear to me over the past week.

It was a tough decision, but what hasn’t been over these past few months? But I’ve switched up my jobs. Honestly it feels great. I need to work to pay the bills, simple as that. If I’m going to work it has to be at a place where I don’t have a constant knot in my stomach.

My positivity and my hope is a little watered down, but like I said, I will never stop trying~

Its strange how one small seemingly insignificant thing can take me back to a moment where I was the most vulnerable. During a time of incredible uncertainty and heartbreak.

I caught a glimpse of my wrist as I was sitting and stretching on the turf right before my workout was about to start.

There’s a spot just a few inches away from my right wrist on my forearm that’s a bit pudgier than my left wrist.

Why am I pudgy on this spot? This is where one of my IV’s was when the girls were born.

This particular IV wasn’t placed correctly. As I lay in my hospital bed hooked up to an IV, an EKG, a catheter, no lower mobility from my epidural and waiting to see my girls for the first time in the NICU, I caught a glimpse of it buldging.

The fluids were not entering my veins properly. It was fixed immediately by my wonderfully amazing nurse, who took great care of me the whole time. All of the staff did.

Looking at this squishy part of my wrist gave me an instant flashback to that morning. I suddenly became very anxious, and incredibly heartbroken. What do I say to the people stretching next to me? They ask me how I’m doing, and I just say good.

I wasn’t expecting to feel this way. Who would really.

In general I’ve been feeling very off the past few weeks, but in light of my new job I was trying to push the emotions down and focus on the task at hand.

Putting my emotions on the back burner has essentially back fired. The anxiety building in my stomach and spreading to my other organs is not normal and is something I shouldn’t ignore.

Talking this through to my therapist this week really helped solidify what I needed to do next.

With my mental health being at the forefront for my reasoning I made a few drastic decisions.

The dust is still settling, and there’s more difficult decisions to come.

But the trauma that I have been through has caused me to look at life through a new lens.

Join me on my path to regaining my wings~

This was a long week, but I knew it would be. I started my second job.

I have to say I’m really excited about this one. Its fast paced, always something to do, the companies values are great, the people are hardworking.

Getting my brain back into work mode for an eight hour shift is my challenge, and breathing through my anxiety.

With substantial effort on my part I’ve learned to control my nerves most of the time. I slip up of course because I’m still figuring it all out, and to me that’s completely normal. I’m not a robot.

I’ve done this by changing the way I think, how I react in stressful situations, and taking my days one at a time instead of looking at all of the events piling up in my calendar and getting overwhelmed.

And the hardest part of all? Well, that’s wanting to get better. Because no one is going to want it for me or force me to change.

Once I break those barriers in my mind it will feel like second nature in how I react. I really won’t know unless I do it, and not just try, but actually follow through to the bitter end no matter how difficult.

Its really strange how in one day I feel like the most confident person in the world, and the next hour I’m feeling nervous.

I’m not sure how I feel about this, but I haven’t been thinking about the girls as much. There hasn’t been any time for moments of reflection in between work, chores, dropping off my daughter and picking her up, cooking, more chores, family time, working out, therapy, etc.

Also, I’m the type of person that needs to be 100% in the moment when learning something new (i.e. my job), otherwise I won’t commit the information to memory. So spacing out or getting triggered by something that reminds me of them has to be put on the back burner.

And believe you me, there are plenty of things that trigger memories at my new job.

My goal is to not let me fears and anxiety guide my decisions, especially when implementing something new.

So I’m wading through this stage of my life.

Sometimes the water is knee deep.

Other days I’m drenched from the water relentlessly crashing against me.

But I will fight that undertow tooth and nail, because this woman will not be pulled down into the deep.

Join me on my path back to hope~

I believe in many things.

What are these “things” exactly? A higher power, mother earth, the cosmos, the effects of a positive and negative mindset, Karma, will power, etc.

All of these are not mutually exclusive. There’s a bond that occurs naturally when they are in play, and the end result is balance.

I mentioned to my therapist a few weeks ago that my dad and my sister have really good luck. What did I mean by that? I think I figured it out last week at my session.

I explained on that particular morning that I felt good. No anxiety. No weight of the world on my shoulders. Clear head. I was even kind of giddy and joking more than usual.

That’s the feeling I’m trying to get back to. My notion of hope.

And when I drove from my workout to that session, which is about 4 miles of a busy main roadway, I had all green lights.

When I finally let go, I was getting back to hope. In a sense back to “good luck.”

As if I’ve been casting my fishing pole for months searching for something, anything.

And there it is. I finally caught something.

I’ve reconnected with the energy stream that bonds all of life, consciousness, and matter together. Sounds a bit hippy-ish eh? Well that’s the best way I can explain it. Its a state of being you feel when you let go of your pain and anger, even just for a moment, and you start seeing the world from a different angle.

Letting the energy wash over and carry me, instead of trying to control and manipulate it to my own means.

Is it a divine energy? Quite possibly. I don’t have all the answers. But I do know its there whether people believe in it or not.

I understand that its unrealistic to try and connect with this energy every day. I’m going to have my bad days. But the point is that I will always strive to do what’s right and keep my compass pointing towards positivity.

And that’s how I want to live my life; knowing the difference between taking the drivers seat and letting go of the wheel.

And accepting that sometimes I don’t have control of the journey, but I will get to my destination~

This whole summer was a crap-shoot.

Now I’m scrambling to gather the pieces of my life to put them back together, but the pieces don’t fit like they used to.

I literally had to prepare for any outcome with the girls. Will they live? But for how long? If they did live, how long will they stay in the hospital? When could we take them home? Will I even be able to take care of them and go about my daily routines? What about work and school?

I naively thought that I could continue with school this fall. Turns out my brain is just not ready for that kind of intense learning.

I didn’t know that grief could affect my brain this way. Some days its incredibly hard to focus, to remember things.

And to top it off with a cherry, I feel a gargantuan sense of worry and foreboding constantly pressing down on my shoulders.

A feeling like everything isn’t going to be alright. That I have no control over the future.

Thinking in this way is not who I am. And I know this. But sometimes its easier to succumb to these thoughts.

So that’s where “journeying back to hope” comes along. This is my journey back towards a healthier mindset.

Towards reveling in the anomalies that life brings.

Riding the coattails of uncertainty without hesitation.

Saying “not today” to my anxiety and punching it in the face.

And keeping my mind open and constantly astonished at the marvels, magic, and mystery that can be found in every pocket of the universe.

I expect this will be an incredibly demanding and arduous path back to hope. But I’ve already done one of the hardest parts, which is taking the first step~

My daughter, who is just about to turn 4, asked me the most innocent question. Maybe its because she saw their picture on the wall, or the baby that was on the show we were watching.

“Momma? Where’s Willow and Evangelene?”

That chipped at my heart. And I had to hold back the rush of emotion that swept over me.

I gave her the answer that the social workers were encouraging us to tell her. That they died.

My daughter doesn’t understand the concept of death; that its permanent and irreversable, and I wouldn’t expect her to.

What really breaks me to think about is my daughter asking me if they were sleeping while I held them in my hospital bed. At first I said they were, but that’s not really helpful in trying to get her to comprehend the situation. To know the truth.

She will understand more and more as she gets older, and she’ll ask me more questions. And I’ll tell her the truth.

I just want to say that over the past few weeks I have been really tired. Its a tired that won’t be satiated until my brain calms down. Until things in my life start to settle again, and I can get back into a routine. That’s what I really need right now is a routine.

My homework was to keep an eye out for any red flags signaling that I needed to slow down. Whelp, lets just say I failed. My therapist helped me realize that there were in fact many waving right in front of my face.

Long story short, I’m not going to try to “do it all” anymore. I’m not going to pack my schedule with jobs, appointments, and school to the point where every waking moment is penciled in. I still need time to heal, and running myself ragged isn’t helping.

I’m going to focus on one job, my recovery, and family.

Family is everything and one of the biggest reasons why I keep going.

Join me on my path back to hope~

Fear is a powerfully aggressive and sneaky emotion.

Striking me in the chest one moment, and then picking me back up and brushing me off.

My fears hide behind a mask called anxiety.

It stops me from trying new things, talking to people, or sometimes making tough decisions.

Well, my fears really got the best of me this week.

Its not something I like to admit. It makes me feel weak.

But I need to give myself a break and not care whether or not people want to judge me for it.

Because my reality is that I went through some serious shit only 3.5 months ago. And I’m still dealing with my grief.

I thank God for my therapist because now that I have her, I really don’t know how I would have done this on my own.

And I mean actually dealing with my grief, not just pushing everything deep down within myself and letting it fester until I explode.

I have started one of my new jobs, and I’m still going through the hiring process for another. Even though this is not a difficult job in the slightest, and the kids are so cute, I still feel anxious about it because its another change for me.

A twist of fate and crossed fingers has lead me to pursue full time work. I resisted this at first because I’m not ready. But our family wants more out of life, and sacrifices have to be made. Even if its for a short time.

Basically, I’ll probably have to quit my brand new jobs in order to find one full time. This is causing me extreme anxiety, but I’m getting used to the idea now.

Job hunting can be very difficult and tiresome. And finding something I’m actually qualified for and is full time is like finding a needle in a hay stack. But I’m keeping the faith none the less.

This year has been filled with so many changes, ups and downs, highs and lows, but its not over yet.

Join me on my path back to hope~

I’ve managed to ease my anxiety for a bit, but the day is young!

The hardest part of something new is the beginning. Not having any idea of where I’m going, what the heck I’m doing, or how I’m going to get there, but starting the journey none the less.

I’m mostly referring to starting my two brand new jobs soon.

There’s a fear of not being able to balance work, family time, mental (therapy) and physical (workout) health, with a brain that has been useless for the past 3 months.

There’s also a gateway that I’ve opened in my heart, and my mind, that I’m having difficulty closing.

Its like having a giant antenna on top of my head that is constantly receiving data. My brain doesn’t remember how to input any of this information, and my heart is exploding with too much input.

In the past I didn’t allow myself to process any of this data.

I would jump to one of the easiest emotions, anger, instead of asking myself why I was feeling this way.

I just need to remember to breath, and take things one day at a time.

A great tip my therapist has taught me is if things are getting too overwhelming, just look out for any red flags. Once I’ve spotted them, I then can take the things that are causing me stress off of my plate.

A huge red flag is snapping at my daughter, which I hate doing. Letting the household chores slide, not cooking as much, not having time for family, and being irritable in general are just a few others I need to look out for.

Our 7 year wedding anniversary was this week, and I had the idea to go to a hot springs. The soak and massage really helped to clear my head a bit and relax my body.

It was my first massage, ever, (unless you count getting my hair rinsed at the salon) and it was heavenly. Ironically the masseuse’s name was Gloria. I really felt a connection with her kind heart and healing energy.

But at this point I don’t know if I’m pushing my feelings down real deep just to get through some big changes coming up, or if I’ve learned how to (somewhat) cope.

I honestly don’t know. Because I’m still trying to figure out who the new me is, and accepting her.

Essentially I just want to be a kind and calm person, while still keeping the goofiness. And I want to feel it in my soul. Not half-assing it.

If I can just be kind, then the rest follows through.

Join me on my path back to hope~

There are days when I want to sink into myself, like a snail retreating into its shell after it touches something foreign. Its a habit I’ve been trying to break, among other things.

My anxiety levels have reached an all time high, making the force pulling me back into my shell even more difficult to fight off.

Starting two brand new jobs very soon, not going to school this semester, trying to live with the girls passing, among many other things, are lingering on my mind.

And I just want to say that I edit myself. A lot. Not just in person but also on the blog. In my own words I “tone down the crazy.”

Its for several reasons. Mostly I like to keep things short, sweet, and to the point.

The down side is that I don’t get to fully express everything that’s on my mind. Which might be a good thing. Once Pandora’s box is open it sure is hard to close.

There is also a fear of judgement. I have never expressed myself so forwardly in my life about my deepest and most embarrassing thoughts, up until now.

Something changed in my late twenties. Well, I think its because my daughter was born.

Was I ready for her and knew what I was doing? Nope. Did I want her more than anything? Heck yes.

She gave me the confidence to speak up and live my life without as much editing of what I was going to say and how I was going to say it. Without having to second guess every decision. And to not seek out so much approval from people I don’t even give a damn about.

I still continue to edit myself, but now its on my terms.

I’ve accepted my awkward weirdness and now I kind of thrive on it, whether people are on-board or not.

My daughter has helped me to “come out of my shell,” and my twins are the true catalyst for me wanting to strive for more. Willow and Evangelene coming into my life is such an indescribable blessing.

The fact that they chose me to be their mom and they fought so hard to be here despite the odds, is a feeling so powerful, that it becomes purposeful. That they came to this earth for a reason, a mission. And having this knowledge has propelled me forward into wanting more out of life. Wanting to make them proud. To truly follow my talents and creativity.

Because they have taught me that life is short.

For some, even shorter. So why waste time on things that are not purposeful?

My girls are my hope~

Whelp, didn’t think I’d go off the deep end tonight, but here I am.

Through the smiles and laid back facade, I am still pretty messed up.

If you ask me how I’m doing my answer is almost always “good.” Because I usually am, and it sounds better than “fine.” And most people don’t really want to know how your doing.

They want to get on with their lives and be blissfully thinking that I’m alright, because it makes them feel better.

So once again, everyone just wants me to be ok. But news flash: I am not. And I’m coming to terms with this revelation. Do you ever get those questions where there’s a fixed answer, like “your okay. Right????”

That doesn’t mean I’m sitting around moping and feeling sorry for myself. Far from it. I find it very difficult to sit for too long doing nothing. It means I’m finding it hard to function some days, and I’m constantly reminded of what happened.

So an off hand comment made to sound funny or clever, is actually really hurtful. The pain in my heart is still there and is very fresh, and deep.

In fact, I feel more heartache now than I did when the girls died. I’ve been told this is pretty common with people who experience trauma. The severity of the trauma is not realized until weeks or months after the fact.

I am the poster child for this phenomenon. In the moment I’m in survival mode. As time passes and all is said and done, I am left with the consequences of my decisions.

Trapped inside my head. With the guilt. The pain. The memories. And the memories I can never make with my girls.

Its all there, constantly cycling through my brain. Some days I can quiet the noise, but tonight I could not. A cocktail of a defiant toddler, loneliness, canceled plans, hormones, and an insensitive comment did the trick.

At the end of the day its my burden to carry, and I will carry it like a champ. Like I do everything else.

But it would be nice to have some one to lean on every once in a while, to lighten the load.

Join me on my path back to hope~