Sensitive

A small vent here.

I had a "mommy necklace" gifted to me.
It arrived in such a great timing, on a day where I was feeling so sad and only had my babies on my mind. 
I took my usual walk to the mailbox, like I do every night and wasn't even surprised that a package was there because it isn't unusual for an avid online shopper, like myself, to have multiple packages in the box.


It was, however, a surprise when I opened it and found a tiny little necklace, with a mommy charm and the birthstones to match my babies birth dates. I cried happy tears, for the first time in what seems like forever. I put it on that very instant with my husband kindly reminding me of my sensitive skin.  I told him, I'd wear it anyway. 

I'm sad today, cause after about a week of wearing it, I can no longer stand the itchiness, and the redness that is now visible.  It will go in my jewelry box, where the rest of my necklaces, bracelets, watches, earrings and rings have made a permanent home, until the very,very, very special occasion that I will risk wearing them, if only for a few hours.  

Different Shades of Pain

Emotional pain comes in different waves. 
Some pain will come and go with time and other pain you learn to live with over time.

The depth of each pain is different.

The scratch:
This is the type of pain that hurt you and you'll live with it for a few days and watch it heal slowly as you tend to it and nurse the wound back to health. It will then scab up and when you are ready you can simply scratch it away and be done with it.

The flesh wound:
This pain, cut deep. Tears flowed heavily and the heart took a beating.  The healing process is much longer and that wound will heal, but at any given moment, with any glimpse of a reminder, it will reopen and the same pain will return and sometimes much greater. It becomes a vicious cycle. You can still forgive the pain, but you will never forget.

The scar:
Caused by the deepest pain of all.  You live with this pain every day.  It weighs heavy on your mind, heart and soul.  It broke you and the scar you bare is a constant, daily reminder of the pain.  You won't move on from it and it seems as though you will never forget. This is the pain you learn to live with.

At one point in your life, you gather several of these, but the scars, those are the ones that you carry with you always.  Never let your scars define you. Let them be reminders and life lessons.  I carry my scars on my heart and every day I am learning to live with them. Some days are harder than others. 

Back to that place where my mind starts to race

With your angelversary a few days away, I had already found this photo to post with some words so that you would know that you are thought of. You know that lately I have been so obsessed with time, dates and different timelines. It's really sad now that I stop to think about it. My life in the last six mths has been plagued with this crazy keeping time cycle, counting the wks and days and engraving dates that pain my heart and puts my mind in this craze. 

I'm good with numbers though, that's why it's easy for them to etch themselves in my head and never leave. My husband thinks it's scary how fast I can sound out his SSN and then I tell him "it's easy, here's my moms, and my dad's" we just laugh. 

I think of you everyday, but it's been of memories that make me smile and laugh and moments that remind me of you.

Tonight, was just pain and hurt and this urge to leave with the quickness  because the overwhelming feeling was suffocating me. 

I went back to place where I last saw you alive. The place where I last heard your voice, that hospital that I spent one of my last nights with you. Cause you had so much fight in you and even up until the last few days you were giving those nurses a hard time. Makes me laugh just remembering that small part of me that would be embarrassed.Thankfully   very few of them knew Spanish and couldn't understand although I am sure my blushing cheeks gave it away.

I miss you grandma. I know you hear me. I talk to you every day. I just wish I could hear you, Feel you, smell you. 

Kiss my babies for me, tell them about me... Cause if I had them here with me, they would know what an amazing grandma you were to me. 

One of my last conversations with you was about my family planning. You were more concerned with my heart condition and I was preparing myself and selfishly thinking that my children would never get to meet you. How very wrong I was. I like to think that you greeted them in heaven and that they know love and warmth from a mother. Te quiero tanto mi reina, pero aqui me haces mucha falta. 

Mommy Diary: page 26

I'm at work now, and it's hit me.  The tired feeling. The "let me put my head down for a second and pass out" phase.  I get little to no sleep lately. I just can't fall asleep. I think too much. Can't make my mind stop.  I don't want to rely on sleeping aids to get my rest. So I'm doing things as best I can. Which seems to not be working.

Yesterday's trigger:  Spent a good time at work, it's been crazy here lately. Visited with my niece at my mom's, then got home close to ten (this is a normal time).  I walked out to the mail and I received a target gift discount in the mail. It read something along the lines of your due date is almost here, and to be honest I stopped reading.

My due date would almost be here, the due date for my first angel, Isabella Rae. A baby shower would have been had already and a nursery would be getting put together.  Instead, the  nursery has been converted to a guest bedroom and I spent this week, selling off baby clothes and baby accessories that my sister needed sold, when in reality, if my baby was still on track to being born, I more than likely would have kept all of the baby clothes and baby items, that my beautiful one year old niece no longer has use for. 

Lately I've been consumed with time. I count out weeks now. And I am about to start a new count- for the new loss. Adelina, is the name we chose. 

I have new dates to remember: how many weeks was I? How far along should I be? The date I miscarried.. How old she would be? Everything is overwhelming.  All I wanted was a birth date. Just a birth date and my baby. Now I have two angels and all of these different dates and times that mark a painful memory, but it's a memory I don't want to lose or forget because it's all I have of them. 

So this was my trigger yesterday.  It's nobody's fault. Not even mine. 
It just plain sucks.

that's all. 

sucks. 

Isabella Rae
due date: 8/30/2014
born in heaven date: 1/28/2014

Adelina
due date: 2/12/2015
born in heaven date: 6/19/2014

You're such a bitch!!!

Years ago...That statement alone would bring about a sense of pride and the biggest smile on my face. I prided myself in knowing that my personality was enough to piss people off. I would always laugh and a simple "thank you" was a response to that statement.

Simply put: I am strong headed, opinionated and rarely do I filter my thoughts. However, if I'm treated with respect, you'll be treated with respect. 

It isn't rocket science. Nobody likes to be walked over and nobody likes to be pushed around.

With that being said, I am also a giver a lover and if you are in need; I will do all that I can to provide, to be there and to make sure you are whole again. I'll make sure to keep you afloat even if it means I'll be drowning in the long run. That's just me. A fixer. Probably a symptom of being the oldest. 

I would hope that for the most part, The majority of you have only seen this side of me and very few of you have experienced the bitch part of me. 

The one person whom I sympathize with is my husband. Unfortunately, I can admit that he falls victim to the bitch in me on many occasions and very frequently because I don't hold back when it comes to him. It sucks when you stop to think about it. Your life partner, the person you go home to, the one who knows you, is always the one who sees both sides of you, the good and the bad. 

I'll be the first to admit, I am not an easy person to live with. I'm surprised he has stuck around as long as he has...I mean, it works both ways, but I'm not writing this to point out his flaws. This is about me and now I can realize that even after all the years ....we have managed to take the good and the bad in each other and still love each other. 

Something has changed though.... We are getting older. We are no longer that high school couple that can take a break and just let things cool off. We're married.  

We are in a changing phase in our lives, he just hit thirty and I'm almost there. Parenthood is hovering over us and sooner than later we will have another life to put first. 

So, my point being, that the "you're such a bitch" statement coming from him, kinda stings a little bit, now. 

I still let out a laugh here and there, but it sits with me. 

I don't want to be that person anymore. I can be better. I can still carry the strong headed, opinionated personality with unfiltered thoughts, but how I speak them to my husband has to change.  

We don't have a perfect marriage and we also don't have the worse, but it can always be better. So my contribution to the betterment of my marriage is to sit the bitch on the bench!! 

I'm not putting her away completely. Not sure I can make such a big stride, but benching her is safe. 

Mommy Diary: page 25

This is MY safe zone.  I can blog about my emotions, fears, hopes and I can do so without any judgement.

I'm not sure I've put much thought into what's being going on with me personally. 

This second miscarriage isn't sinking in. 

I feel that if I grieve for this second angel of mine, I am taking away from Isabella (my first angel).
Even that right there is a huge deal for me. ISABELLA - I named my first angel.  I gave her a name because she is real... she lived her intended life span and she was named.

My second angel isn't named - yet.

I didn't know of this pregnancy until I was already miscarrying.  I was afraid to name the baby because I was too afraid to acknowledge the reality of my second miscarriage.  Naming the baby would make it real.
As if the first miscarriage wasn't traumatic enough for me - going through a second one was something I wasn't ready for.  Something I DID NOT want.  So, I went about my days very different in this miscarriage than I did the first.  I didn't even take time off from work right away. I finished up the last few days of the school year and then, only then, did I devote myself to bed rest.  Some would question that decision, but I was not putting myself or my body or the baby in any additional risk. 

Now that this second miscarriage has come to a complete end.  I can begin with the healing.  My body will bounce back soon enough, it''s already working in a faster timeline in comparison to the first miscarriage. 
Once, my body is back to normal, my heart and soul can begin to heal.  Only then, because meanwhile I heal my body, these doctor visit's for post miscarriage are taking it's toll.  They are necessary for my overall well being, given into account that my body is fragile and my health is a big factor.  So when i go on these visits, I am much like a Zombie. I avoid any visual or physical contact with mommies and their newborns to shield my heart and I always, always, always have head phones on so that I do not accidentally hear the sound of a baby's heart beat as I pass from one room to the next.  You won't believe how thin the walls are in the office. 

Overall, Ive kept myself together this time around.


Last night, as I watched the movie "Heaven is For Real" I felt a guilt in my heart for not naming my angel. For those of you who have seen the movie, you'll know which scene I am referring to and for those of you haven't - go watch it. It's a must see!  I don't want my angel to be in heaven nameless. So tonight, along with my husband, we will name this angel of ours. 

Update: we named our second angel - Adelina