Hiatus -or- Mentalmotional Vacation

K so obviously, it's not January anymore, which means-obviously-that it's been a second since I've been online. My bad. It's been a super awful couple months, and tho this blog was a lifeline in the beginning, I've gotten to where it's easier to blog when I've had a beat to clear it all out. I survived her birthday again, if only just barely. There were balloons, 50 of them to be specific, there were cupcakes, there were people at my house, there were more tears than I cared to really deal with. Holidays are rough. I spent the majority of the day, while decorating cupcakes, trying to imagine what my 3 year old would look like...what she'd sound like...the things she'd know.  I can't.  I can't imagine any of it, and it's so hard.  To me she will always be my lil 19 month old. I don't know her any other way anymore.  I can remember up to that point obviously, but then it just stops.  I think that's one of the saddest things...that it just stops.  I try really hard not to be mad at God, I've been working towards rebuilding my faith for almost a year and a half now, but some days...like her birthday...I feel like we should at least be able to keep tabs on them.  Like, we should at least be granted the ability to imagine their faces as they would be if they were here.  He couldn't give us that much? I don't believe it was His will for her to die, but I KNOW that He could at least let me peek. But do we really want to?  I don't know.  It's a complicated thing.   I remember when I went in for surgery 4 days after her funeral, I remember (it's dark, sorry) thinking to myself that maybe the anesthesia would be a lil too much, since I hadn't been eating or sleeping right, and I'd been drinking...maybe I'd get to peek.  No such luck.  Don't get me wrong, I am not at all suicidal, by any stretch of the imagination, but just to have that split second to see that she's alright, would change so much. So that was her birthday...thoughts, and tears, and freaking cupcakes. It all feels wrong either way. It feels wrong to bake that day, but I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't.  It feels wrong to get out of bed that day, but I don't think I could live with myself if I didn't. Complicated.

Easter was yesterday. Not nearly as catastrophic as I thought it would be. It was fun to watch Khaily at the egg hunt and do the Easter bunny thing, but I spent most of the day just being grateful that the day even exists. Without Easter there would be zero hope of getting back to my baby bear.  And at the end of the day, that hope is all I have of her. 

 

On a lighter note, me and miss Mae went to Boise a couple weekends ago.  It was super nice to get out of town for a couple days to be with family and friends. We hit up the Boise Zoo, which is so much cooler than the IF zoo, everyone should go...seriously, they have jellyfish. Whaaaaat?  They also had a bench that was sponsored by the Compassionate Friends, which for those of you who aren't familiar, is a support group for parents and families who have lost a child. Amazing organization, they do a Walk to Remember every year, theres a worldwide candle lighting event in December every year, just an amazing amazing group of people.  Anyway, there was a bench. The bench about did me in for the day.  It's right next to the giraffe slide, and those who know, know that giraffes were Khyri's "thing."  The irony floored me and I had to stop and get myself for a second before I could function again.

Boise was fun.  So fun theres been talk of a move.  I found on my way back to this side of the state, thatthe closer i got, the more I wanted to flip around and go back.  I did not realize how completely SAD this entire little city makes me until I got out of it for a couple days.  Thinking that way brought on guilt like you wouldn't believe, so I reached out to a friend who lost her daughter 5 years ago, same age, same situation (except for the daycare part.)  I asked for her thoughts, and after being reassured that I'm not a horrible mom for leaving the place where my baby is, she told me that her and her husband waited five years to move but have always said they wish they had gone sooner...so maybe a drastic change is in order?  Maybe Boise? Maybe the moon?  Who knows what comes next really...

Sleepless

I have gotten really good at visualizing, or "grounding." Its kind of a self-soothing anxiety technique, since I myself am not a fan of pharmaceuticals. One way to ground yourself is to literally ground yourself...plant your feet firmly on the floor and push yourself against it, or grab say a shopping cart handle and squeeze as hard as you can. Or you can count and breathe, which is super common. I myself prefer mental blocking... Once you recognize a stressor you visualize it in your mind and mentally build a brick wall in front of it. It makes me feel like I can control it, like if I put this wall here whatever is behind it has to wait until I take it down to get through and then I can deal with it on my time. Another thing I do quite a bit when I'm feeling out of control is to name my surroundings...its supposed to help keep you in the moment...if I find myself worrying about bills that aren't even due yet or going back to scary things...like hospital flashbacks...I look around the room and make very basic statements about what's around me...no "why's" or "buts," super basic..."the chair is white" "the blanket is blue" "the pillow is soft" "there's a book on the shelf"...super basic.

Tonight none of it is working. I can't sleep, and I can't shut it off. Its not even the hospital, which is a welcome change, but tonight its her little fingers, and her chubby thighs, and the way she used to suck on her lower lip. Its the cute tiny things that I love thinking about, and I recall them often to make sure I don't forget. When you lose your baby though, even the happy thoughts are so sad. So I tried, "her skin is soft" and pushed away the "but it was cold when she died", "her nails are sharp for baby nails" and pushed away the memory of trying to clean the dirt out of them at the funeral home...nothing is working. I still can't sleep, and the tears still won't stop. So ive come to the conclusion that, maybe sometimes being strong isn't blocking it out, but letting it in and being vulnerable...I just want to hold those little fingers and tickle those tiny thighs so bad. It physically makes my arms hurt to think about going into her room and not being able to just pick her up for even a second....its just so hard.

The dog is black...the couch is tan...the walls are white...the tea is hot...

Adios 2015

So, before I start, you will notice that this post is at the top. I lost track of my backwards time stamps and decided that...that's a lot of work...so starting today the newest posts will be at the top of the blog, and everything from 2014 and 2015 will read oldest to newest like a story (it's the 80 posts under 2014 on the right side of the screen). That being said, here we go.

I apologize for not being on here more recently, but as you can imagine, everything from October to New Years is pretty unpleasant and sad and unmotivational in my house, this year being no exception. After the angelversary was halloween, lots of fun, Khaily was Elsa and was SO excited to get to wear Mommy's make up.

In November a very sad thing happened in our house when me and Jason split up. We both just changed too much over all the events of the last year and the two new people that came out of the storm weren't the compatible pair that went into it. Super painful, super messy, I will spare you the soap opera and just say...it sucked.

Thanksgiving came and went. Me and Khaily went to spend it with the family, but ended up leaving early. It's hard to be happy in a room full of happy people when over the course of a year you go from happy family of four to a mama daughter duo. Sorry family.

Enter Christmas. Christmas is hard. It was not the soul draining, life ruining experience that it was last year though, and progress is progress right ? Again we spent it with my parents, Khaily was soon excited...she snuck out of her room and caught the stockings...but Santa hid quick before she saw anything else!  It was such fun to see her excitement Christmas morning. It helped ease the ache, though I was still super grateful for the drive to work so I could fall apart. Holidays are just hard.  Her assignment for her Christmas program was to be the Christmas angel...and the irony almost killed me. She was a beautiful angel though, and she had so much fun. I seriously recommend Lots O Love Preschool to everybody, so amazing.

Now here we are, in 2016.  Another year that Khy will never see, the first of four without Jason, and we still have snow the second week of January. ..that hasn't happened for a few years. Khyri would be turning three in March, starting pre-k, learning to read and tie her shoes...all these little things are so big when they are just daydreams.  I am still very grateful and very blessed to have had her at all. Even knowing what I know now there's no way I'd give her back to avoid it.  I do not in any way believe that it was her time to go or that God had anything to do with it, but He is keeping me going so I know that there's some kind of plan at work now, even if it's not the original draft.  happy new year everyone ♡

Plea to Parents

I realize that I have not said much regarding canals and childcare facilities.  This is in NO WAY an attempt to bash the childcare provider.  It's really not.  It is a desperate plea from one mother to many others.  It is so important to know the licensing laws and regs for childcare in your state, it is SO important to do your OWN walk through of any place that you leave your children...I did my own walk through, but it wasn't enough.  I was uninformed and inexperienced, my kids had never been left with anyone that wasn't friend or family.  Look for things like faulty fences, gaps, gate latches, baby proof door handles.  Ask about how many kids a day are watched, talk to other parents whose kids go where you are looking into.  Do NOT take your kids anywhere where there is water nearby...running, standing, pool, pond, it doesn't matter.  It takes a child ONE TEASPOON and 3 SECONDS to drown.  Write up a liability waiver, if something happens to your child while in their care make sure that it's not your responsibility to worry about the aftermath...the week after the accident, instead of being able to mourn and grieve for my little girl the way I needed to I worried about financing the funeral, and can I just say it is EMBARRASSING to have to borrow money to take care of your child.  Always always always remember that what you don't know CAN hurt you, in the worst possible way.  Be informed.  Know the laws. If you can avoid it, don't take them to anyone you don't know personally and trust with your life.  Drownings like this are 100% preventable.  They really are.  I would not wish this pain on my very worst enemy.  Canals are dangerous, whether they are at a childcare or not.  If you live near water, bury your fences...a fence alone is great, but if you bury it 8 inches underground all the way around, it could save you the heartache of burying something much more important much deeper.  They make motion activated door alarms for less than ten dollars...put them in your home, put them on your gates.  Please don't let my little girl be gone for nothing.  If you are reading this you have a chance to make a difference.  Share Khyri's story.  You could literally save a life.

Holding my baby's hand the day I went and got her dressed
I love you Khyri Lynn
<3

Every Mothers Worst Nightmare

It was roughly 11:15AM on the morning of Saturday, October 18th, 2014.  I was at work, kids were at daycare, and I got the text message that every mother on earth dreads..."you need to get to my house now."

Frantic, I called...no answer...I texted...no answer...finally I get a call back only to hear my daycare providerm screaming  "NO! NOOO!"  and the line went dead.  I am freaking out.  I called people to come into work for me, praying to God that it waS just a broken bone or the house had caught fire or something but that my kids were safe.  My phone rang a few minutes later, "I'm sorry, Sky, oh my God I am so sorry Sky..." a pause.
"WHAT HAPPENED? WHERE ARE MY KIDS?"
 "The canal...the canal she fell in the canal...."
"WHICH ONE? WHICH ONE?"
"Khyri it was Khyri oh my god Sky I am so sorry!"
"I TRUSTED YOU! I TRUSTED YOU WITH MY KIDS YOU TOLD ME THEY WERE NEVER ALONE!"
"Sky, this is (name omitted) from the sherriff's department.  There has been an accident with yuor daughter Khyri and I need you to get to the hospital."

I rushed to the hospital, mach 60, blew through the doors and started screaming for my daughter...the nurse took me back...and there she was.

Trauma 7.  The room where my world came to a screeching halt.  There were at least 10 doctors and nurses in there, I watched, I waited, I prayed. "Please don't let my baby die, God.  PLEASE DONT LET MY BABY DIE."  I was in and out of the room, trying  to stay out of the way.  Pacing the halls, staring through the window...praying, crying, screaming, trying not to throw up, trying to convince myself of what I already knew was a false hope,  "They are doing the best  they can."  The cops kept telling me.  I went ito the room, I held her tiny hand, I talked to her, I begged her to wake up, thinking that maybe it would be like nap time, where she popped her eyes open as soon as she heard my voice.  I rubbed her feet, stroked her fingers, prayed and cried and watched in horror as the expressions on the doctors faces kept changing.  I watched the monitor, knowing that the heartbeat was only due to CPR and the oxygen level was only because of the tube.  Almost two hours in, the doc came out and told me the worst news..."Ma'am, we are going to keep going, but you need to be aware that even if we find a pulse, she's been without oxygen to her brain for two hours, there's less than a 1% chance that shes going to come out of this, and if she does she will be brain dead...which is essentially...either way...."  and about 15 minutes later, he came out, and told us we could hold her hands while they stopped CPR.  I watched my baby take her last breath at 1:30PM.

About an hour later, they told me that I could hold her.  I held my baby girl for two hours.  I held her, I rocked her, I sang to her, I kept checking, thinking that ther ewas no way she was gone, her pulse was gonna come back.  It didn't.   At 4:30PM I carried my baby out to the van for the funeral home.

I went home, to an empty house, her jammies from that morning still on the couch, chocolate milk spill still in her high chair.  And as I walked past the room that my girls shared, I realized that...this was it...this was going to be the thing that defined the rest of my life...things would never be the same, my baby was gone, and I was totally and completely lost.

Breathing.

Breathing.  Basic human function, requires no thought whatsoever, just happens, right? Until now.  I spent the following 6 days forcing my breath.  Funeral arrnagements, burial plots, casket, flowers, cards, people bringing food that I coudlnt touch....breathing....it is still the hardest part of my day. Something so simple, something so basic, the hardest thing to do, and the only thing I can do.  That week, I stayed busy.  Planned the funeral, got her dressed, anything I could, clinging to every little thing that I could do...because, reality is this was the last time I'd get to take care of her.  Every day I was at the funeral home, planning, visiting...holding her hands....staring at her....trying to capture every second that I could before they were gone.  Id run my fingers through her hair, stare at her and wait for anyhting at all to move...nothing moved.  I started sleeping with her blankie, a Minnie Mouse balnket that I bought her earlier this year.  Her seahorse also frequented my room that week...it was a pink seahorse that played lullabies and lit up...we had discovered about a month earlier that it was the only way to get her to go to sleep without crying.  I went and bought us lockets...a snippet of my hair in hers, a snippet of hers in mine.  I also bought a set of "big sis little sis" necklackes, she has the one that says "Big Sis" and I kept the one that says "Little Sis" for Khaily to have when she's older.  I gave her these trinkets on my birthday, the day before  her funeral.  I hated my birthday.  I was so angry that I got 24 and she had only gotten 1.  I went with my parents to pick the flowers...they were beautiful arrangements of purple and green...that's how we would tell the kids' stuff apart...Khaily has always been pink and yellow, Khy was purple and green.  Some people have siad that they only way to continue is one day at a time...those who have been here know that its more like one breath at a time. In and out, and the hardest part is feeling like I'm wrong for doing so.  Our sole responsibility as parents is to keep our kids safe and happy...and alive...and I couldn't.  I wasn't there, I didn't know, and I feel every day like I shyould have.  That morning when I dropped off the girls, she cried...she always cried, but there was something different that morning.  I picked her back up and gave her loves while she clung to me, and then I put her down, took a deep breath, thoguht for a milisecond about taking the day off, said "she'll only cry for a second," and walked away. I walked away. I went to work, and that's it.  That's all I got. A hug, a squeeze, and to listen to her cry while I walked away.  I didn't know.  I didn't know.

Khyri Lynn Raffetto

Khyri Lynn was my baby girl.  I remember being pregnant and being afraid that her and her sister Khaily wouldnt like eachother.  They were best friends.  Inseperable.  Partners in crime.  Khyri was a beautiful baby girl with the most beautiful soul.  She had the greatest, most magical laugh, and a smile that literally took up her whole face.  She loved hugs, she loved kisses, she loved snuggles, and playing, and all the normal one year old pass times.  She completed our family.  I mean, life was great when it was just me, Jason, and Khaily, but Khyri was the final piece that made us a whole.  I can't believe  that she's gone.  I still find myself thinking that I need to go get her up from a nap, or sometimes I'll start to get her clothes ready for the day...and she's not here.  There is an emptiness in our home now that will never be filled.  Her favorite toys still scatter the playroom....I tried to clean them up, but Khaily looked at me and said, "Mommy, please don't do that to Khyri's toys...please don't put  them in a box..."  So they stayed in the playroom.