And Then There Were Two

Sept 27 2016
I havent written in a while. I apologize. It has been a very...very...intense summer. There have been and continue to be so many changes I just havent had the time or the mental acuity to put pen to paper...or fingers to keyboard as it were.

The last post I wrote had talk of moving to Boise. That didn't happen but is still an open and ongoing discussion. Instead, in June I found out I was pregnant. It was a very emotional ordeal. So much guilt, so much anger, so much fear.  I didn't tell anyone for a very long time. I actually never told Khaily at all. I was afraid something bad was going to happen. I had a feeling. And unfortunately I was right. On August 27th at 11:20am after 26 hours of drugs and labor Kheatyn John was born sleeping at 16 weeks. He weight 2oz and was 5.5 inches long. Perfect baby boy. Ten fingers ten toes, all organs developed perfectly. It was a cord accident. It got twisted right near his belly button. I didn't even know that could happen. Now I spend a lot of time daydreaming about him and Khyri playing together. It put me back in a dark place, I am starting to come back slowly but...on top of losing him being awful it also brought back a lot of things from Khyri, making it double hard. The situations are so different but still so the same. When Khy died I came home to on the floor, clothes on the floor, a brand new box of diapers, breakfast she hadn't finished. With Kheatyn I came nothing. And for being so opposite...its the exact same pain. The exact same aching empty arms, the same longing, the same tears. Futures we won't have, lives I won't get to watch unfold. I will never know his sounds,  his likes or dislikes, the ferocity of his tantrums. I will never kiss an owee or remove vegetables from nostrils. So many 'nevers.'  They let me keep him overnight at the hospital...and before you get judgey and disgusted, imagine you were only given 24 hours to be with your baby. And that was all you were ever going to get.  I took it. I took ever second. I stared at him and memorized his features. I counted and recounted the fingers and toes. I prayed and cried and tried to understand how someone so perfect didn't get to live. And what I had done to deserve it again.

The funeral home came and took my baby away from the hospital. Again.

Khaily still doesn't know. Shoes seen pictures, she knows that tiny baby is in heaven with sissy and that they love eachother very much. She doesn't know its her brother. We will talk about it later. 5 is too young to know that pain twice. I can't look my little girl in the eyes and have 'that' conversation again. I can't do it.

Today...if he had somehow lived...he would be a month old. He would be prepping to be a tiny skeleton for Halloween. He would be keeping me awake at all hours. Instead he sits on a shelf next to a jar of rose petals from his big sissy's funeral. Sometimes I wake up and forget that I'm not pregnant anymore. Then it hits...and I curl back up with his baby blanket and cry.

October is coming again. The 18th will be two years without Khyri. Two years. 730 days. 17520 hours. It may as well have been 5 minutes. Every day it repeats in my head. Last year I painted car windows for awareness. This year I am so emotionally spent that i will probably spend the day in bed. I don't want to do anything. I just want to sleep.

Its intense summer.

This Is Not the Life

Sept. 27, 2016
This is not the life I wanted. This is not what I envisioned as a little girl playing house with the neighbors. It was never in my plan to be a mom of 3 and have to explain it to people. My kids were always meant to be visible. I never planned on being married and divorced by 21. I never imagined having to take out restraining orders against people I love. Never thought to myself that one day I would explain death and Heaven and God and Jesus to my 4 year old in a non-religious situation. Wasn't planning on the panic attacks, the sleepless nights, and the crippling fear of dropping my daughter off at school.
I want to be the mom who drops her off and thinks, "ok I have 7 hours to get things done."
Instead I drop her off and count down the minutes until I pick her up...because one time I didn't get to pick her up.
I want to be the mom who goes to sleep at night exhausted from my kids overwhelming me all day long.
Instead I go to bed and cry because Khaily is low maintainence and once upon a time I was that mom.
I want to be the mom who complains about the laundry and the dirty house because I can't take it another second.
Instead I fold laundry with a heavy heart because there used to be so much more of it.
Everywhere you look there are people complaining about their kids, complaining about their spouse, complaining about their house. Stop. Just stop. Because it could all be gone tomorrow. Two years ago today, I went to a job that i loved, then I picked up my kids who drove me crazy, I cleaned the house despite being exhausted and had dinner ready before my honey got home from work. Two years ago today I had the crazy busy happy life that I, like so many of you, take for granted. In three weeks it will be 2 years since Khyri passed away. 2 years since everything fell apart. And in two years...I've gone from 3 kids to 1, a happy family to drying my daughters eyes because she misses her dad, a house full of noise, toys, and laughter to a house full of heavy, empty, painful, silence.

The life I have not the one I wanted. But I wouldn't give back a single second of the "before" in exchange for an ounce of the "after." The screaming and fighting and tears and devastation and falling apart...suuuucks....but...there were 2 and a half years that were absolutely amazing.

That little girl at the table behind me drives me crazy. She does. We yell. We scream. We both say things we don't mean. We miss our family. We miss sissy. We miss dad. But at the end of the day its us against the world. And all things considered I think we redoing pretty okay. So...while its not the life I sure glad its mine.