A maybe baby

Ronan. How can I be this upset over something that I was not sure that I was ready for? Because I had spent all last week preparing myself for it, just in case I was right. So, my emotions went from, oh no I’m not ready…. to o.k. if it is so, I can totally be ready/do this. I let myself feel sad/happy/scared/excited. I had myself convinced I was right. Turns out, I was wrong. Turns out, my body/hormones are completely out of whack due to stress/sadness/not having you. I’m not an out of whack person. My emotions stay pretty even keeled, even while dealing with not having you here anymore. I am a pretty level-headed person. This whole thing has kind of thrown me for a loop. I spent the weekend giving into my tiredness. I was nice to myself which I tend not to be anymore. I spent all weekend hanging out around the house doing all the old things we used to do with you. It’s normally hard for me to be in our house, but over the weekend I really enjoyed doing the simpleness of not much, with your brothers and daddy. I enjoyed all of this due to the maybe baby that I had gotten used to.

Then Monday came. I woke up so exhausted again. What is going on? I am sleeping fine at night without Ambien. I only wake up once and that is always at the 3:25 a.m. time that I swear to you, is your way of trying to get to me. After I wake up, pace the house, toss and turn, cry, sometimes not cry, I fall back asleep. I’m pretty sure I am getting in a good 6-7 hours of sleep. That’s a lot for me. The blood test I had done on Friday, came back negative. As in, you are totally not prego. O.k…… I thought to myself. So strange, my intuition/being in tune with myself is usually pretty accurate. Within moments of this phone call, the tears started. Wait… why am I crying? I thought to myself. I didn’t give myself much time to rationalize all the reasons why because clearly it was out of my control. So I cried. I called my Little M who I can always count on to make things sound logical/rational for me. I was sobbing so hard she couldn’t even understand what I was saying. After about a 20 minute conversation this is what we figured out.

1) Deciding that I/we, want/hope to have another baby, is mentally exhausting in itself. It’s taken a lot of work for me to get to this point.

2) I don’t get to be a normal mama ever again. Everything I do comes with heightened emotions. A maybe baby included. This is a whole new me for me. I’m usually so very calm about things.

3) This would have been nice because it would have just been something that pretty much just happened, not something that we really tried for.

4) I had my hopes up. I allowed myself to get excited… I allowed myself to think about the future, which I often don’t do. Most days, I am just trying to get through the day. I thought I would be o.k. with the maybe baby not being real, when in reality, I feel disappointed and sad. I guess I wanted it to be real, more than I thought.

5) This maybe baby, wasn’t meant to be. Or as Marisa said, this wasn’t meant to be your baby. There will be a time, this will all work itself out, when it is meant to be.

I stopped crying after I hung up with Little M. She made me feel better, like she does with everything. She even through in an “I’m sorry and can somebody just throw you a freaking bone?!” I don’t know if they can or not, but I’ll sit here and wait.

I spent the rest of the day crying/talking to myself and you. I went hiking. I talked to you out loud. I didn’t listen to my blaring music like I normally do. Dr. JoRo asked me to hike quietly. I listened to her. I told you all the things I always tell you, like how sorry I am. How much I miss you. How sometimes I don’t know how I’ll do this all, without you being here. I talked to myself about how I need to stop trying to control things that are not in my control such as life and death. I need to respect that I am not in control of certain things and when they don’t go my way, I need to just give into that and not beat myself up about it. I talked in my head about the logical aspect of all of this/the lesson learned/what I hoped to gain for the future. I tried my best to rationally play everything out in my head. I heard the screaming voice yelling at me that all logic flew out the window when you died. I tried my best to ignore that voice. I ran down the mountain as fast as I could go, wiping the dirty tears off of my face. I told myself things like, “You are o.k. you are going to be o.k. you have survived the worst thing possible, you can get through anything.” I gave myself a pep talk. I came home, showered, and picked your brothers up from school. I played the good mommy role that seems to be coming easier to me now. We did their homework, I fed them a snack, and we did an art project together. I made a big fuss over how proud I am of both of them, which I didn’t even have to force. This shows me I am healing a little. The things that used to take a ton of effort, are falling back into place a little more easily.

I’m still completely wiped out. I gave into all of this last week, but I am fighting it this week. I’ve got too much to do and I don’t have time to sit around and being tired. I am hoping I will get my energy back up, otherwise I’m going to be seriously worried. It may be my body’s way of remembering what is coming up in the next month. What my mind is trying so badly, to ignore. I don’t want the day you died to be here. I don’t want your birthday to be here, without you. I know I have to face all of this/make a plan. I will work on that this week, but no promises.

I told Rita I was blogging about this. I know it is a lot. I feel like I live on a freaking soap opera and I don’t like it. Although this is pretty personal…because I get the baby thing is personal and I don’t have to share it…but if I did not, that would be me not being true to myself/this life/what is going on, in our world. I started this saying I was in this for good. To share the good/bad/ugly/happy/sad/all of it. I couldn’t just ignore what has gone on and not write about this. That would not be fair, to anyone. You all have stuck through this with me, for this long. I’m not going to start sweeping really important things under the rug. The fact of the matter is, no matter who agrees with this decision or not… the whole maybe baby thing… it is our decision. Woody and I, made this decision a long time ago, before Ronan got sick. We both know this is something we want. We both feel like it is something that we need and would be really good for all of us. We love each other. We love Liam and Quinn. We love Ronan. We will love whatever/whomever comes in our lives next, when the time is right. We are a family that is broken, but we are broken together in the most loving, caring, happy/sad way possible. We will never be the same again and having just the 4 of us feels to wrong, to not try to make it, a little right. I’m not sure what a little right looks like at the moment, but I can tell you it’s not this.

I’m tired Ro baby. I love you. I miss you so much. I hope you are safe. Sweet dreams.

xoxo

1)Dying 2)Depression 3)Pregnancy 4) Mental Ward 5) Let’s just go to Mexico!

Ronan. If I am not pregnant, I think I am severely depressed. I told Rita this tonight. I don’t know what it feels like to be depressed, because I never have been. I’ve been traumatized over losing you so badly that I can’t function, but I would not call that depressed. I would call that just a mom, who has had the worst thing that could possibly happen to her, happen. And then you are left, feeling blind, deaf, dumb, alone, abandoned, shocked, scared, numb, tormented, miserable, heartbroken, physically ill, and like you too, would like to die. You are left thinking the pain alone, will kill you. But it does not. So you get up, somehow. I’m not sure how, but you do. I did. I feel like I have been moving on a high-speed train for months now. Doing so much, but it all felt good. Doing good things/being productive is what is saving me. Doing all of this while still respecting this pain. The high speed train has come to a halt. I am so freaking tired. I worry that it is because I have done so much/too much and now your 1 year since you’ve been gone is approaching. Your 5th birthday is shortly after too. I am going to freak out if I am this tired, and it is not due to being pregnant. This is so not like me. I don’t get tired. I run off constant energy and adrenalin. I can do 50 tasks at once, while hiking Camelback, blindfolded, juggling apples behind my back. Not this past week. This is not the flu or step throat or anything like that. This is something more. It’s either I’m really, really sad…. or pregnant. If this is what depression feels like, HOLY FUCK. It is scary. I do not enjoy this. Rita says if I am not pregnant, then we will be doing a lot of night hiking. Good solution, Rita. Seriously.

There are some things in life, that I am asked to do, and I just cannot do them without you. In my old life, I would have said yes in a heartbeat. In this new life I have learned to say no. There are certain situations that I know I can mentally/emotionally not handle. So, I have started to say no to things that I know will be too painful for me to do. Your daddy is so supportive of me and the way I am doing this. He knows when he comes to find me in the shower to ask me if I am ready, and he finds me crying hysterically saying, “Please, I cannot go without Ronan. Don’t make me go without him!” He knows not to make me. He just looks at me, kisses my forehead and tells me it’s alright, that I do not have to go. This is one of the 10 billion reasons that I love him so much. But I would still kill him if it meant I could bring you back. You see, RO… why couldn’t I have just left it at being one of the 10 billion reasons I love him so much? Why did I have to throw that killing him for you thing in there? Because that’s how my mind works. It’s kind of dark and twisted, in a pretty way. At least I think it’s pretty. But I am a sucker for a dark and twisted mind. I think they are the best minds to have.

I wish I had more to say tonight. I honestly don’t think I left the house all weekend. I’m feeling that crummy. I met Rita at Trader Joe’s. We Robombed the place with your little cards. That was the highlight of my weekend. Well, that and snuggling up to your brothers while we watched oh so bad but oh so good, 80’s movies. Ummm… hello, “Licence to Drive.” Top 5 fav 80’s movie of all time. I loved those Cory’s. Quinn cracked up at it. Liam thought it was stupid and actually went into the bedroom with your daddy to watch, “Storage Wars,” or something. He is obsessed with that show. Those brothers of yours… they are so stinking rad. I am so lucky to have them. I was so lucky to have you. I’ll never understand why you had to go. I miss you so much.

I’m sleepy, tired, and sad. I love you to the moon and back. I’m so sorry, Ronan. I hate this for all of us. I hate this most of all, for you. I hate that you are not here, and I don’t get to take care of ¬†you. This destroys me. This is so not how things should have to be. I hope you are safe. Please be safe. I love you to the moon and back. Sweet dreams, baby doll.

xoxo

I’m not dead. I may be dying. Or I may just be…

Ronan. The weekend is almost over. I spent it with Liam, Quinn, and your daddy. Not sure all of what we did. We stayed around the house a lot. We played in your room a lot. We made breakfast together and sat around at the table, without you. I am never going to stop being sad. None of us will. But slowly we seem to be coming back together; as a family. For so long, everything felt like it was so broken, that it was unrepairable. It’s not unrepairable. I can feel things being glued back into place. It’s because of the love from your daddy and your brothers, that we will be repaired. It just takes time. None of us are in a rush. You cannot rush something like this. Do you know what your daddy says to me, every night before we fall asleep? That he loves me. And that he is so sorry. We both will never stop being sorry. This is just one of the little reasons, that I know we are going to be o.k. Because we are both so sorry. But there is no blame, no resentment, no anger towards each other. We are both just really, really, sad.

It rained here today. It made me miss you so much. If you were here, we would have gone puddle jumping or played in our backyard, in the mud. Your brothers went to a birthday party. I hung out at home with your daddy, in our quiet house. Our now too quiet of a house that is so empty without you. Your daddy asked if I wanted to go to a movie. I told him no. I didn’t feel like doing much of anything. I watched the rain from our bedroom, instead. I’ve been tired lately. I’ve slept really well, which is weird to me.

So, this new friend of mine, Margarita, has been spreading around some rumors that I am not all that dangerous! Can you even believe that, Ro? She totally thinks she has me figured out. I knew I had to come up with a way, to prove to her, that I am in fact, really reckless and dangerous. It was about 6:15 tonight when I suddenly, felt the need to get some fresh air. I texted her and said, “I’m going hiking. Are you coming?” She told me no, she would not be coming, that it was too cold and wet outside and she hated the rain. And she might hate hiking, too. Yoga. She likes Yoga. I do not. Well, that’s not entirely true. I used to love Yoga. Until my life turned into total chaos. Now yoga make me angry. It’s too happy/peaceful/calm. All the things that I used to be, but am not anymore. Maybe someday I will go back to it. Dr. JoRo swears by it. I’m just not ready for it. I told Margarita fine, but I was going… and it was not all that wet outside. She tried to put up a fight, but once she knew I was serious, she decided to meet me. It was starting to get dark as we began our death hike. I don’t know why I decided to go hiking, so late tonight but you know how I am… once I get an idea into my head there is no stopping me. We hiked up, it got dark, we turned on the flashlight on my iPhone. Soon the wind started to howl, (as well as an owl) and down came the buckets of rain. “Ummm, don’t think we are making it to the top, we’d better turn around!” I yelled to Rita. We were about half way up. Crap. It was really raining/windy/dark/totally dangerous. Rita yelled to me, “Maya, you may call this dangerous… I just call it stupid.” I started cracking up. “You are so going to hate me, after this!” I said. We made it down the mountain, without breaking our necks or spraining our ankles. We both yelled out, “Fuck you cancer!!!!!!!!!!” at the top of our lungs. I told Rita I wouldn’t have been hiking on a pitch black, rainy, windy night if you were still here. She said she knew. She asked why she was hiking, with me. I said because you were not here. Same answer as mine. She agreed.

That was Sunday, Ro. It’s now, Wednesday. Hi. Hello. I have too much to say. I haven’t been writing, for a few reasons. The main one being, I just don’t know how to say this so I guess I’m just going to fucking say it. I’m either dying of some horrific disease (more than likely, cancer) or I am pregnant. Or I am having a false pregnancy in my head which could very well likely be a possibility too. The placebo effect is very real and a total possibility, but I don’t think it’s that. I think I am dying or pregnant. Or both. But maybe just pregnant. How in the world could this have happened, you might ask?? Well, let’s backtrack way far back, to right before you were diagnosed. I had that little IUD removed out of my body. I remember driving home from the OBGYN and having the conversation with your daddy which was, “I just had my IUD taken out….. so now what?” Your daddy asked if we were done having kids. I vaguely remember saying, ” I don’t think so… do you?” We didn’t decide on anything right then and there. We just left it as an open-ended conversation. And then, a few days later, we heard the words that a parent never wants to hear which was, “You child has stageIVfuckingbullshitwhatthefuckthiscannotberealcancer.” Our lives changed over night. The baby thing obviously went on the back burner. I stopped talking about it. Your daddy started to bring it up, right around Christmas time, when we went to NYC to have your base tumor removed from your abdomen. Your daddy would bring it up, and ask why I wouldn’t talk about it anymore. I mostly just ignored him and told him we could talk about it, once you got better. He pushed a little. I ignored him and he pretty much stopped bringing it up. I talked about it with you only. We talked about having another baby brother or sister. You wanted one so badly. We talked about names and if you wanted it to be a boy or a girl. You wanted a sister. We joked about having more twins. You liked the thought of that. You liked the idea of a little one or ones, to boss around. We talked about it a lot, the two of us. It was our little secret plan that when the time was right, and you were better…. another baby was in the cards. Before the blink of an eye, you my healthy boy who was kicking cancer’s arse…. was not anymore. I swear you were doing so well, and then *BAM!* within weeks you were dead. I still can’t wrap my head around how that happened…

So, Ro…. since you’ve been gone, the baby thing has come up again. Not many people have brought it up. Your daddy has hinted around here and there, and I pretty much refused to talk about it. I only really talk to Dr. JoRo about this baby thing. We’ve been sitting with it, for a while. I divulged my deepest fears, lots of tears, guilt, I’m betraying Ronan, what if this baby dies, or gets cancer, or I don’t love it as much, I’m not worthy of having another baby since Ronan died…. I should not be allowed to feel any happiness or love that a baby could bring into this world, and how will I know, when the time is right??? She told me there would never be a right time. She didn’t argue with any of my worries/feelings/fears. We talked about them instead. We’ve talked about all these things for a good 4 months now, in-depth. She had her baby boy, Josh, after Chey died. She gets it. Sometimes I feel as our lives or so parallel, that it was fate that we met the way we did. Your fate. I believe you were the one behind me finding her. I am so thankful to you for that. We have too much in common for it not to be something more then just a coincidence.

It’s just been recently that I don’t cringe every time somebody touches me or gives me love and affection in a physical way. I’ve been so detached from everything and everyone. Your daddy and brothers included. I’ve told Dr. Jo that I think a baby is going to be the only way our family can learn to be a little happy again. It’s been in the back of my mind, for a long time now, but it’s only recently that I’ve started to come around a bit to start thinking about it more. Your Sparkly has been buzzing in my ear about it for a while now. Sometimes I’ll talk to him in-depth about it or sometimes it hurts so badly that I’ll say something snarky like, “Not having this conversation with you, today. I don’t want to go there now.” I always see the sad look in his eyes, when I refuse to have the baby talk with him. He always gives me the look and the, “Please think about it. You are the best mother. Please do it, before I get too old. It would be so good for you, Woody, and the boys.” I usually just look at the ground and try not to cry. And then he asks my to smile for him and I am too upset so I’ll just tell him, “No. No smiles today. And what are you talking about? You are not old at all. You are so young…” There are a lot of days when I won’t smile when he asks. I hate those days the most.

So, it was last Monday that it kind of clicked for me that, “Ok… maybe it would be o.k. to start trying to have this baby. Trying being the operative word here. Just once. Not that it would actually happen, but more like, let’s get used to this idea that we are not going to not try to not have a baby. I woke up Friday morning with a very familiar feeling. The same one that I had with you. Mother fucker! I thought to myself. I’m fucking pregnant! I’m not making those words up. That’s what I thought in my head. There were no tears of joy. No jumping up and down. It was complete and total shock, along with a lot of cuss words that followed. Wait a minute. I did not mean I wanted to actually get pregnant right this second. I don’t keep track when I ovulate or anything. I was just getting warmed up to this new idea. And HOLY SHIT. OH MY GOD. My boobs. They felt like they were on fire. That’s how I knew within in a week of conceiving you, that I was pregnant. I remember I went to meet Tricia for a run. I looked at her and said, “My boobs really hurt. I think I’m pregnant.” I was. That’s always been my first and biggest indication. It’s too early for a pregnancy test and I may full on be making this up. My body is so out of whack these days, I never know what is going on. But I’m exhausted. Sleeping like a baby. My boobs are still on fire. I have an appetite and I am eating weird shit like this seaweed crap from Trader Joe’s that no less than 2 weeks ago, I was making fun for Dr. JoRo for eating. Guess where I found myself, yesterday?? At Trader Joe’s, scouring the aisles for seaweed. Who am I?? What is going on?? I think I have a pretty good idea.

I’m mildly freaking out. But I cannot fully freak out until I know for sure. I can of course say, I was not ready for this. If I am indeed pregnant, I’ll have 8 and a half months to get used to this idea. If I am not, I will be totally o.k. with that as well. But I may be slightly worried about the power of my mind and it’s ability to trick my entire body into thinking that a baby is on it’s way. That will really freak me out and I may consider going on a long vacation to the middle of nowhere to try to prevent this nervous breakdown that is clearly happening due to your deathday/birthday/fuckingmother’sday that is coming up. That is a whole other post that I just don’t have the energy to write about tonight.

I sat in Dr. JoRo’s office for a couple of hours today. We talked a lot about you and the possibility of another baby. We talked about how a baby will NEVER take away this pain/sadness/grief I feel for you. How this baby, will never lessen this pain. How this baby will never replace you. How I need to prepare myself for the stupid shit that people are going to say like, “OH!!! A new baby! I’m so glad to see you are over the death of your son! I am so glad to see that you are moving on! This is a sign, from God! This is what was meant to happen! God DID have a plan, it included your child dying, so this child could be born! You are all better, etc….etc….etc….”

I get that people mean well, but I would really like to hear none of those things. I will never be over the death of you, Ronan. Never. I will never move on. I will never be better. I am just learning how to live a whole new life and this whole new life will always include the pain of not having you. I am learning how to manage these feelings that I now have. This life is wrong without you. This life is broken. This life will never be the same. But I am learning to manage all of this. Manage is the new key to this life now. I can’t change the pain, but I can make it manageable so it doesn’t destroy me. I won’t let it.

That was today. I’ve been writing and not posting. I needed some time to digest the maybe baby thing. Your daddy asked me what I thought you would say about all of this. I told him I thought you would be happy, but sad that you are not here, to be the big brother that you should have been. You would have been the best big brother ever. I’m sad for that too. I’m sad for another reason that has had me hysterical the past couple of days too. Today, is Sparkly’s birthday. I’m sad you are not here, to sing to him. I remember exactly where we were, last year, due to it being his birthday. We were in NYC. You were getting better, or so we thought. You were upset that we could not see your Sparkly. We took a picture of you with your big, gorgeous smile and bald little head to send to him. We sent him a text with your picture and said, “Happy Birthday, Sparkly! We love and miss you!” You were so excited to send him that beautiful picture of yourself. I wished him the best Happy Birthday I could muster up, without having you here to do it with me. I made sure my voice did not quiver while I was telling him to have a great day. I got a, “Thank you, sweetheart,” in return. I could hear the sadness in his voice though. I hung up the phone and buried myself in the pillows of our bed, and drenched them with my tears. I HATE THIS SO MUCH. You should be here, singing in the phone. I should not be on the phone, using my strongest/bravest/I am o.k. but really I am not/but have the happiest birthday ever voice. Please come back. I hate doing all of these things, without you.

Little man. I have to end this now. It’s a long, long, post. I love you to the moon and back. I miss you so much. I hope you are safe. G’nite baby doll.

xoxo