Mommy Shoes

Triggers can come from the most unlikely sources.

I glanced in my closet the other day. The shelf that used to hold all my high fashion stilettos is now filled up with mommy shoes. I worked at an optical store where it made sense to dress up everyday and I loved it. My husband thought it best to not chance an accident while I was pregnant with Jenna (I am as clumsy as they come), so my journey in mommy shoes began almost two years ago. I think about a few of the stilettos I have left collecting dust. It captures a moment in time. The shoes I used to wear. The girl I used to be.

They don't even fit right anymore.

I thought last night how different life might would be with a 15 month old running around. Lately another thought has been tormenting me that I may never have another little girl. I've been making these and I have no idea if it will ever be for my little girl.

I thought about 15 months and how much life has changed. I breath without taking deep breaths every five minutes and I didn't know how I would keep breathing. I laugh and I never thought I would be able to thoroughly enjoy life again. I smile and I never thought it sincerely possible after burying her. I love and I never thought I'd be able to love fully again.

But somehow the grief that used to be unbearable becomes bearable. And the sadness that used to be too heavy to tote around everywhere becomes a part of who you are. The tears that fall when it's not socially acceptable become a silent ache that no one can see but you and God. The memories that you used to spill out every chance you got now seem too sacred to share with just anybody.

I've always wanted to wear mommy shoes I just never thought it would be this pair.

15 months

today since we said goodbye.

It was her

When the stars fill the midnight sky we are only a dream away from being together...

Bubby usually sleeps through the night and has been for the past two weeks.

But not a few nights ago. In the middle of his diaper change at the ungodly hour of 3am it suddenly hit me that it happened again. It was her. In my dreams.

I don't remember the details and oh, how I've tried to retrace the dream over and over grasping for anything I might remember to no avail. But I knew she was there.

And like our enemy of time she was fading. The dream faded, though I knew it happened. Saturday night.

Until next time I can't wait to hold her in my dreams again.

something to say

I wish I had something to say today. Maybe that's why I feel like I always I need something to do. As long as I am doing, doing something as a direct result of Jenna - her life and death - I don't feel like I have to think of anything to say. Sometimes I feel though that I don't talk about her enough. It hurts sometimes to talk about her and other times I am afraid that others are just tired of hearing it. I mean it's been over a year and to the rest of the world that usually translates as "oh, she's doing so much better now, especially since she has a healthy baby now..."

Well here's some truth.

I hurt everyday. I miss her everyday. And with every milestone our healthy baby passes my heart aches a little more because now I know what I am missing.

I should be a pro at being a mommy. And by pro I don't mean a mommy that has all the answers and never has bad kids or those embarrassing moments in the grocery store. I mean pro - like I should at least have an idea what a three month old is supposed to be doing instead of looking it up on Babycenter. Pro - like I should have some kind of clue what sort of activities are good for my baby's development. Pro - like I should already know when my baby will be teething.... will be able to eat baby food... will be sitting up by himself...

Enough truth for today. I just miss her.