Without a doubt, the MISS Foundation saved my life

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I just wish I wouldn’t have had to find them by sitting in my bed in the middle of the day, sobbing, and thinking to myself, “If I don’t find someone to help me, I will not survive this. I then turned on my computer and Googled, “What to do if your child has died in Arizona.” Somehow, that got me to the MISS Foundations page. I thank Ronan for Dr. Jo, every single day.

 

http://drjoanne.blogspot.com/2013/05/as-we-near-mothers-day.html

Rain, rain, don’t go away…and please don’t let Poppy be born dead.

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Ronan. It’s the middle of the night and I can hear the rain. It’s pouring down outside. I just went to check on your brothers and in doing so, I have to walk by your empty room. I peaked inside. Nobody was there. That reality never gets any easier for me. I think I ended up losing my shit yesterday. It was really triggered a couple of days ago when I came home in the middle of the day from somewhere and I walked into our quiet house. I had been working at our kitchen table and I had left a bunch of packages on top of it, right where you would normally be sitting. As I turned the corner to our kitchen, I thought there was somebody sitting in your spot. I thought it was you. I imagined it was and how I would react. I imagined scooping you up, kissing you all over, crying tears of joy, and saying over and over that I always knew you were really coming back. This image has haunted me for days now. I was out all day yesterday, being productive and came home after a long day of trying to be a part of this world. That’s when I lost my shit and could do nothing but pace our house, crawl in my bed, and cry for hours on end. Your daddy came home to see me in bed. I had gotten a text from my mom friend, Sarah, asking if I was going to support group tonight at Dr. Jo’s. I told her no, that sitting around listening to everyone talk about their dead kids, was not a good place for me. Especially as of now, due to the life that is growing inside of me. Support group is hard anyway but it’s even harder to go being pregnant. Sarah said she selfishly wished I was coming as she was wanting to see me. I wanted to see her as well and her partner, Rae Ann. Noah’s mom’s. I sent Jo a little text to ask if she was leading group. She said she was and she could see me before hand as well. I threw on some appropriate clothes (pants included) and hardly said 2 words to your daddy as I headed out the door with my tear-stained cheeks and blood-shot eyes. Our house was screaming at me and I could no longer take it.

I got to Jo’s a sobbing mess and told her what was going on. She sat, asked me some questions, gently reminded me of all the stress/crap/petty fucking stupid fucking shit/insane pretend problems that normal people have that I don’t understand anymore that I’ve been trying to deal with and understand/the fact that I’m about to have a baby/ and how your two years is approaching. No wonder I am freaking the fuck out. She knows these next few months are going to be hard. May is right around the corner, you know. I just sat and cried and talked when I could. Before I knew it, it was time for group to start. I had decided to stay mostly because I just wanted to be with Noah’s mom’s. It was a pretty full group. It went a little something like this. Stillbirth, me-cancer, stillbirth, stillbirth, stillbirth, 8-month old unknown cause of death, 3-year-old just stopped breathing, 8th month old-can’t remember, still birth, still birth, murdered child, 8 month old again. Of course you know why I think Poppy is going to be born dead. Because I live in the world of childhood cancer and still births. I talked a little but was mostly too upset to even tell your story. Support group never gets easier. The death of your child, never gets easier. It’s not something we will ever overcome. It’s not like AA, where we can recover from our disease, start over, and live a clean, healthy life. Our disease never goes away. I think about this a lot, especially when I am in a group setting like tonight. How the world is so accepting of people who are trying to recover from alcohol or drug abuse. How there is so much love and support out there for them over something that is a choice for most people. I understand that being an alcoholic or abusing drugs is an ugly, powerful disease in life, but most people, not all, make the choice to do these things. None of us parents, made the choice for our kids to get sick and die, yet there is so little love and support out there for us. Society doesn’t want to acknowledge us, Betty Ford doesn’t fit for us, the government doesn’t care about us. So where do we go and what are we left to do, to get through this?

In my dream of all dreams, after I get this care center built, I want to help Jo with one of her little dreams. That is creating a safe place, almost like a rehab for these parents to come to that have lost a child. A safe place for parents to come, with the proper counselors and proper kind of compassionate care that they so need. A place where bereaved parents can try to process their grief before being shoved out into the cruel, harsh, happy go fucking lucky world again where everyone has a living child, except for them. A Betty Ford for bereaved parents in a way. I would have went to a  place like that. I think it would have helped me a lot in the beginning. Oh, people wanted to send me away alright. But it was only to a mental ward where that shadow would have haunted me for the rest of my life because I’m sure I would have been given a permanent  diagnoses of bullshit that would have followed me around forever. This is a path of life that we as parents, will never get off of. There is no changing our course. There is no bringing our children back. We are stuck here, forever. It’s like the ultimate prison where we as parents have done nothing wrong except for love our kids with everything we have, yet we are serving a life sentence for a crime we didn’t commit. (well, unless you are someone like Casey Fucking Anthony, then you should rot in hell a.k.a. a real jail cell for the rest of your life)

There is no place for parents to go so we are all forced back out into a world that does not exist for us and we are expected to be o.k. Hey, our kid or kids just died but we’ll get over it, right? Life just goes on and we are expected to be strong because being strong is the only choice we have. It’s wrong. We all need a break from being this strong once in a while. Being this strong can be torture at times. Bereaved parents need a safe place to go where their children are remembered and they can take a break from being strong for a while. As much as I think support group is great, a tangible place where parents could go to for longer period of time than an hour a month, would be so much freaking better. Add it to my list of big dreams. It seems so obvious to me and I don’t understand why it doesn’t already exist. I guess it’s because Dr. Jo hasn’t done it yet and she is the only one fit for this job. Someday, I promise this is going to be a reality and I will do whatever I can to help her with this.

I have to run today, Ro baby. I have an interview in a few minutes. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Thanks for the rain last night.

xoxo

Thank you, Dr. Jo for this amazing blog post. My spicy monkey is so thankful for you.

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http://drjoanne.blogspot.com/2013/02/diagnosis-41107-privileged-dystopian.html

“Why? Because I’m scared.”

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Ronan. It’s official. For as much as I don’t want to slow down, I have to slow down. My body is screaming at me with everything it has to just stop. I have never been more bloody exhausted in my life. Your sister is so heavy that even just walking around trying to do normal things leaves me breathless and feeling like I want to fall over. Not cool. This is not how I roll. I am glad I crammed in every last thing I could before this hit me such as my little New York trip, foundation things, appointment things, etc… There is no way I could have gone to New York now. I can hardly get out of bed to tackle our laundry situation over here or keep up with the cooking/taking care of your brothers. All my body wants to do is rest/sleep. Otherwise known as my personal hell.

I spent the weekend taking it easy. I’ve had a bad cold to go along with this pregnancy that has wiped me out even more. I know this is just another way my body is telling me enough is enough. Your Papa Jim has been in town since Friday. He’s been sleeping in your room which you know always brings me comfort. Just the thought of knowing somebody is in your little room, brings me a sense of peace. I love it even more when I catch your brothers playing in there, with all of your Star Wars toys. They are still young enough to enjoy them every once in a while. I spent all day Saturday at my happy place, otherwise known as your brothers basketball games. They had games starting at 8 a.m. back to back to back. I felt like crap but there was no way I was going to miss their games. One of my favorite things in life now is watching those two play basketball. You would be so proud of them and how well they are doing, Ronan. Your two brothers constantly leave me amazed. They are such good sweet souls, even after all of this. I am so lucky to have them.

One of the things I did with Dr. Jo on Friday was go over our timeline that we sat together and wrote out about a year ago. It started from your diagnoses and ended the morning you died. You know I don’t have much of a memory of anything and one of the things I really struggle with is regret. She asked me to change anything I wanted to in regards to things I would have done differently with you and your treatment. Of course I changed things. A lot of things. I would actually like to change almost everything because what if by changing one little thing, your outcome would have been different? We will never know this. Your daddy still swears to me that your disease was so aggressive that it wouldn’t have mattered. It matters to me and I don’t know that I will ever be able to forgive myself, Ronan. I don’t care if at the end of the day, you would have died no matter what we did. I will forever hold on to you were my child and I should have been able to protect you and save you from anything and everything. Even stupid fucking cancer.

The first thing I told Dr. Jo I would change was I wouldn’t have had you die at all. Obviously. If only it were that easy, right? We then moved on and went over the doctors, hospitals, treatments and ended all things at the Ryan House. I sat there and sobbed while talking about this and told her I wish I would have never taken you there. Looking back now, I understand it was what we needed to do, to get your pain under control because feeding you morphine every hour on the hour was just not cutting it. But that little voice in my head will always go to the very painful place of at the end of the day, after everything you went through, you just wanted to be at home, in your house and I should have listened to you and not everyone else. It’s the least I could have done as your mama. I know a big part of not having you die at home was to protect Liam and Quinn, but I really don’t think having you here, would have hurt them as much as we thought it would have. They were with us when you died, it just happened to be at some strange place that it all happened. They will always have that memory of you there and I don’t think having you away, out of our house, will make that memory any better for them. How could anything possibly make the memory of their little brother, the most precious thing on earth to them dying, any better? I told Dr. Jo how I vaguely remember hospice meeting us at the airport after we had returned back from Philadelphia when we were told there was nothing else that could be done for you. How I had a stranger riding in our car with us and I remember being so angry because I felt like I had no control over anything and now there was a stranger riding in my car with us whom I had never even seen let alone talked to in my life. I remember hospice coming to our house and I told your daddy to get them out. End of story. I didn’t care who they were or why they were here, all I knew was that nobody really explained anything to me at all but I was just expected to understand everything that was happening. I told Dr. Jo I wish it had been her with me at this time. Because I know Dr. Jo. I know she knows better than anyone how to handle this very delicate situation. She would have done things in such a way that I would have been open to her. She would have had the decency to gently first of all, ASK me if it would be alright for her to be with us, to help us with anything that we might need or not understand. She would have ASKED to meet you and not just pretended like you were a baby who was already dead. She would have cried with me and understood my pain in only a way that a mother whom has also lost a child, can do so. Her expertise on all of this would not just come from a book or a class she took. It comes from so much more than that and I know I would have been able to feel all of that. I wished it would have been her, sitting with me, helping me, explaining to me everything that was happening/ going to happen. I wish it would have been her that would have told me I could have spent as much time with you as I wanted to after you died. That there was no rush to have your little body placed in a bag and wheeled away, never to be seen again. I wish it would have been her to have sat and wept with me, held me and helped me find my way back out into this bright, bright world in her oh so gentle way. It certainly would not have been her saying, “See you later, have a great summer,” never to really be checked on again. I wish I would have found Dr. Jo before you died. It did not happen this way, Ronan and because of this, I know one thing for sure. Dr. Jo could not be with me for your death but she will be with me for the birth of your baby sister. I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I’ve talked to your daddy about it. Our conversation was brief and simple. I was laying in bed, crying I think.

Me: “Woody. I need to ask you something.”

Him: “What?”

Me: “I want Jo in the room with us when Poppy is born.”

Him: “Why? You are always so calm and you always do great.”

Me: (trying not to get frustrated because I don’t think your daddy understands the depth of this for me, having another child after having a dead child and how mentally hard this is) “I have always done great when I didn’t have a dead child. This is completely different now.”

And then I just said it, plain as can be.

“Because I’m scared.”

Him: “O.k. whatever you want.”

Me: “Thank you.”

I called Dr. Jo today. I asked her. She started crying on the phone. She said she would be honored. I told her thank you. That I don’t know if I can do this without her. She went on and on about how if I change my mind at any point, she will totally understand. I said I knew that. As of now, this is my plan. Did I also mention that Dr. Jo is a doula? Kick ass, Dr. Jo. I see this as a win/win. Not only is she here to help me with death, but also with life. She has been my lifeline through all of this, Ronan. I only wish there were 500 more of her to go around to help all the parents out there, dealing with the loss of a child. Nobody gets this the way she does. She has such a gift that is beyond this world.

It takes a lot for me to feel scared in this world anymore. I am scared for the birth of your sister. The range of emotions I am feeling come with such an overwhelming feeling of sadness and happiness and I know I need her to help me through this. I know when I need to ask for help and I need help with this from both you and her. I know with the two of you things will be a little less scary. In my heart of hearts, I know you are going to make sure Poppy gets here safe and sound. I will always trust in you and the way you are guiding me. I think you want Dr. Jo in the room with me just as much as I do. She should have known you, but since she didn’t she will know about you through the eyes of your brothers, the tears in my eyes, and the birth of your baby sister. Such a beautiful gift she is going to be, Ronan. Thank you for her.

I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, little man.

xoxo

 

Pediatric palliative care research study. Please read if you are interested/know anybody who is interested.

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My Dr. JoRo is conducting a study. Please see the information below. Thanks!

 

 

We are inviting those aged 18 or older to participate in a research study intended to explore the experiences of those who utilized pediatric palliative care for their child before and during his or her death. The purpose of this study is to determine the individual, familial, and societal effects of this experience and to improve standards of palliative care for families of dying children. Another purpose is to gather information about which attitudes and actions parents found helpful to them, and which ones they found unhelpful or harmful. Our goal is to improve a model of compassionate caregiving and intervention that fosters resiliency at every level. Our team consists of an experienced researcher (Joanne Cacciatore, PhD, FT), a doctoral student (Kara Thieleman, MSW), and a master’s level social work student (Angela Lieber) from Arizona State University. If you decide to participate, one of these three individuals will arrange an interview with you. Interviews will be recorded and transcribed. Interviews may last between an hour to two hours. Your participation in this study is voluntary and your identity will remain anonymous. If you choose not to participate or to withdraw from the study at any time, there will be no penalty or loss of benefit. Participants will be provided with a list of bereavement resources and we will gladly provide you a copy of the final paper upon completion.

Please contact Dr. Joanne Cacciatore-  jcaccia@me.com – if you are interested in being interviewed for this study.

Please take a minute and read this article. This is so important to me, and to the MISS Foundation. Grief is not a psychiatric illness, and should not be treated like one.

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http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/dsm5-in-distress/201301/last-plea-dsm-5-save-grief-the-drug-companies

I love this article. Medicine is not always the answer. And my Dr. JoRo is mentioned!

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http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/science-isnt-golden/201212/the-hurry-heal-therapists-cannot-explain-everything

2 weeks is absurd. Guess I should have been checked into the looney bin, long ago.

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This is from my Dr. Jo. How absolutely cruel. What is wrong with these so called, “doctors?” I wonder if any of them, have ever lost a child. Medication is NOT the answer to any of this. There is no pill for grief.

 

http://drjoanne.blogspot.com/2012/12/the-death-of-sadness-birth-of-mental.html

Sometimes even I need a reality check

Ronan. I woke up yesterday morning with a Halloween grief hangover. I felt like I had been hit by a bus. I was determined to not stay in bed all day, like every aching bone in my body was begging me to do. I had to talk myself out of doing this and it took a lot but I wasn’t about to give into my grief and let it chain me to my bed all day long. I got ready for the day instead and headed over to my office. Thank god for that place. It is helping me so much. I pounded out a few things that I needed to get done. I had an interview at 1:00 that I so did not feel up for, but the person interviewing me was coming to my office so I told myself just to stick it out and I would go home and crawl into bed, after it was over. Little did I know, that this 22-year-old kid was about to make my day.

I never know what to expect when doing these interviews. They can be emotionally draining most of the time and quite honestly, I don’t love doing them. I would rather just hide behind my computer all day wearing my spirit hood, glasses and pajamas. But I also know that I am very lucky to have the opportunity to get your story out there in a way that will raise awareness for childhood cancer. I know this comes with the territory and is a part of me being an advocate for you and all of these other kids who have been dealt this shitty hand in life. They don’t have a voice. I do. I will use it and scream for you and them as loudly as I can. I will use this platform to do great things and hopefully help change this devastating world. As soon as Tyler walked into the room, I knew I was going to love him. He was so nervous and I could totally tell. He sat down and told me a little about himself and why this story struck such a nerve with him. He had me at hello and the fact that he was wearing a skull shirt, made my day. “Tyler! You have on a skull shirt, I have on a skull necklace! You could be my 22-year-old soul mate!” I tried to put him at ease as much as I could. He had his notebook full of questions and it was so refreshing to see that he had really done his research on my blog and all things you. That made me like him right away and automatically made me respect him right from the get go. It was so refreshing to see he was serious about us, our story, and helping to get our message out there. Our interview went on for about 2 hours. We had a good little thing going back and forth. I was so impressed by him at one point I thought, “I hope Liam and Quinn turn out to be like this kid. His parents must be so proud of who he is and all he stands for.” I told him being interviewed by him was one of the greatest interviews I’ve done yet and I truly meant it. I know he is going to do a great job on our story and I can’t wait to see what he does with it. He left me by saying, “Please don’t go home and throw up because this was so hard.” I told him that in no way did I feel sick and the interview was actually really great. I gave him a big hug and told him thank you. I felt like I had just spent the afternoon with my little brother. It was a great afternoon for once and I left feeling totally inspired by the youth of today. Mark my words, that young soul will help change this world in one way or another.

I left shortly after Tyler left. I ran home to do some things. There was a support group going on at the MISS foundation and Dr. JoRo was leading it. As much as I hate support groups, because to me they are so painfully hard, I dragged my butt down there to attend. I’ve only been to one before and it was so awful that I refused to go back. I sucked it up last night for a couple of different reasons and I have desperately been missing Dr. Jo, so I knew that seeing her would be great. My favorite mom’s were there. The mom’s of a baby boy named Noah. I was so happy to see them and was able to spend some time with them. I adore everything about those two except for the fact that they have a dead child, just like me. I got settled into group and we all went around and told a little bit about ourselves and our kids. I felt vulnerable, sad, and scared sitting in that group. I know everyone in the room is there for the same reason so it should feel safe to me, but to me it just feels like the saddest place on earth. Every single person in that room, has a dead child. It is always a wake up call to me, as if I need anymore wake up calls in life. But it honesty is like a slap in the face. I sat and listened to the horrific stories of everyone else. The drowning, the car accidents, the ecstasy story, the stillbirths, the mental illness, the sudden death at school, etc….. Newsflash! Cancer is not the only way kids die. I know this. It made me want to run home and lock Liam and Quinn up forever and beg them to never touch a drug in their life, not drive a car, or leave the house. You think you are immune to your kids dying? You think you are too perfect of a family, for this to happen to? You are not. Nobody is. I think the sooner we as a world start to realize this, maybe we will take less things for granted. Maybe we will enjoy every single split second with our kids because nobody can say when our time is up. Maybe parents will start understanding that being a parent is a privilege, not a right. No matter how much money you have or how protected you think you are. Sitting in that room last night is the most humbling place in the world. Even I myself, need a reality check once in a while to be reminded that I am not the only one hurting this badly. That is why the MISS Foundation is such an important place in the world. Without it I can guarantee you about half of the parents in that room tonight, would have ended their lives. I know I would have. Dr. Jo is part of the reason that I am still here. If you don’t know about the MISS Foundation, please check it out. They have such little funding and need it so badly. It is such a safe haven for all of us parents going through the worst thing possible and Dr. Jo is my absolute idol in life. She is one of the rarest most beautiful souls that I have ever known. http://www.missfoundation.org/

After group ended, Dr. Jo came up to check on me. She knew I was a wreck. She looked at me and said, “How was that for you?” I said, “So Poppy is going to be born dead, right?” I was so shaken up by the still birthing stories. She just looked at me with that wise motherly look in her eyes. “I knew you were going to say that. I know that was hard for you to listen to. Poppy is going to be fine. She has Ronan looking out for her.” I keep telling myself I have to trust in that. I know that Ro. I tell myself that about 100 times a day. I left group beat and exhausted. I came home and crashed out until early morning. I woke up, showered and went to wake up your brothers. Liam was burning up. I put him in a luke warm shower and told Quinn to get ready for school. I had a lot to do today, but canceled it so I could stay home and take care of Liam. He was so sweet and so thankful for everything. I ended up taking him to the doctor to rule out strep because that has been going around. His strep test came back negative and his fever is almost gone. He does look miserable though, so he spent the day resting while I spent the day being domestic around the house. I hate being at home doing all the same things I used to do. Today, I forced myself to cook all day long so Quinn would have a nice meal to come home to after school. Cooking used to be our thing and now it’s just so hard for me to cook without you. Doing anything around the house is hard for me now. I don’t have your clothes to wash, your breakfast to cook, your dishes to do. Not having all of those things to do for you makes doing them sting so badly. Today, I took the day, set myself aside and did things that I knew your brothers would be thankful for. I was right. Quinn must have told me about 10 times tonight, “Thanks for the homemade soup, Mom. It was really good.” This broke my heart in a million pieces. It made me realize that I need to work a little harder around here doing the things I used to do, every single night, such as cooking really great homemade meals. I think the every night thing might be pushing it, but a few nights a week, can be a start. You know why cooking is the most hard for me? It’s because dinner time, with a homemade cooked meal means we have to sit around the dinner table without you. I don’t think that will ever become an easy thing. I often find myself getting anxious and sick to my stomach. Quinn sits in your chair now. I’m just glad someone is sitting there, I guess. He is a good little seat filler.

Your brothers have their last basketball game of the league tomorrow. I hope Liam is feeling well enough to play in it. I’ve made him rest all day and I fed him a good dinner tonight. Hopefully, I can get him to go to bed early to get the rest that he needs. I’m tired too. An early bedtime sounds like a good idea for both of us. G’nite Ro baby. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams.

xoxo

I would like to go back to reality… never.

Ronan. I am always nervous when going to places that I have been with you before and having to return to them, once again without you. I was nervous to come here, as I never know how I’ll actually do. I have only the best memories of being here with you as your Nana and Papa’s was one of your favorite places to go. We didn’t come here last summer. I thought it would have been too painful. I think anything last year, was too painful. Coming out here, this summer with your brothers was the right thing to do. They have spent the past few weeks, in utter bliss. I have not seen them so happy, since before you were sick. It has been a little healing to my heart. How could it not be? I want your brothers to be happy. I needed to see them this way, for my own healing as well. I may never be happy again, Ronan. I can be o.k. with that, as long as your brothers are happy. I can live my happiness through them.

This place, will always be home to me. It will always be my favorite place. It is good for my heart, mind, body and soul. It has been a good trip, even under our harsh circumstances. You know what I got while I was here, Ronan? Nothing but pure love. What do you mean, I can walk around and not be judged for what it is I think, feel, say or act? Where are all the people, glaring at me with their hash, cold pretend eyes? Where are all the whispers?They don’t exist here. I get smiles. I get we are proud of you. I get you are doing a good job. I get your name brought up, everywhere. You are not swept under the rug. You are not forgotten because life just goes on. You are not in a better place. You were not part of a bigger plan. This did not happen for a reason. There is no reason for this and everybody here, knows that. Here, it is simple. It’s unconditional love, trust, support and no judgements. The only way a bereaved parent, should be treated. I am thankful to my family for trusting in me that I would find my way, and emerge from my hole, when I was ready. I am sure that hole will always exist for me, Ronan. But not once have I wanted to crawl in it here. I have spent the past few weeks soaking up your Nana, Papa, your brothers and Bri Bri. It has been just the time that I needed to unplug from the world and just be. Everyone misses you so much, but nobody is afraid to talk about you. Everyone is so worried about me, but nobody is afraid to talk about that, either.

I saw my dad today. I took your brothers over to see him for a bit. It was a quick visit. I don’t talk to him much, because I honestly don’t talk to very many people much anymore. He told me I looked better than he expected. He told me how worried he is about me. He looked so sad. I told him I would be alright. I talked to him about Dr. Jo for a while and how she has really been the one to help me through this. I told him about our very nontraditional therapy like relationship. About how I spend a lot of time up in Sedona with her and we do things like barefoot hike instead of sitting in some stuffy office, talking about stuffy things that most fancy doctors with their PH.D’s talk about. About how her therapy isn’t just an office where you are talked about, then forgotten. How I go there and how you are so loved by her because her heart is that big. I watched my dad, watching me as I talked about Dr. Jo. He looked down at me and said, “I am so glad you found her. She sounds amazing and now I am so less worried about you. Please give her a hug for me and tell her thank you, for saving my daughter.” I just smiled at him and said I would. See, Ronan. That right there is what I am talking about. How it does not matter how I am finding my way, because the people that truly care about me most and truly love me for me, don’t care how it’s done. They are just so thankful for the help and that I am finding my way, the way I need to find it. Because they are intelligent and open-minded enough to know that the only way I am going to find my way, is my way. Not anybody else’s.

Today, was your Nana’s birthday. I was sad most of the day because any type of birthday is sad for me now. They all feel empty without you. And I know what we all were wishing for and that was for you to be back here, with us. I did my best. I played with your brothers most of the day. I watched them follow your Papa around like two little ducks. I wanted my 3rd little duck to be following behind him, too. I looked for you, everywhere. I wondered if you were watching us. I wonder that a lot. It doesn’t give me peace, it just makes me sad because I know how badly you want to be with us. It is so wrong that we are separated. I have such a hard time in life without you here with me and some days, I just don’t know what to do. It’s days like today, that I force myself to continue moving forward, even though everything hurts so bad. I haven’t really had any breakdowns since being here. I know I am due for one, soon. I’m positively sure it’s waiting for me back in Arizona. We have one more day left here. Leaving is going to be hard. Your brothers are not ready to go at all. I am dreading having to take them away from your Papa and Nana. I think it’s going to be hard on everybody. Reality awaits us and there is no escaping that. It was nice to take a little break from it here though, and I am so thankful for the time with your Nana and Papa. Watching your brothers with them is one of my favorite things in life. It always has been. The bond that your brothers have with your Papa Jim is so very special. You loved him so much, too. I’m sorry, Ronan. For the fucking bullshit of a hand we were all dealt in this life. It rips me to pieces, every single day.

It’s late. I need to try to get some sleep. I miss you. I love you. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo

  • Instagram is my BFF

    Last night before my flight to NYC I washed my iPhone in the washing machine. Just as we were about to leave for the airport, Poppy started throwing up everywhere. Canceled our trip and took care of a sick baby girl all night. Today, I am thankful that she is feeling better and for the Apple care that just replaced my phone. I'm sad to miss the beautiful gold lights in Times Square, but know this is only the beginning of many beautiful things to come during the month of September. #ronan #beboldgogold #kidsgetcancertoo #fucancer #rollwiththepunches #ineedatimeout Team meeting. #poppy #ronan #fucancer #titans #littleballers #weekendchamps #basketballislife @kimmieag17 Hijacked @knjoy's pen to write her letter to the Empire State Building. #poppy #ronan #poppyforpresident #fucancer #gettinshitdone #meow
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