What is my normal?
It will be 21 months on the 13th since I started living this life.
A life that is full of things I never imagined before.
After almost 21 months I feel I have settled into this normal.
This normal that leaves a sting in my heart every single time I see another child. every single time. This normal where I still look in my rear view mirror looking for the car seat that should be back there. This normal that sneaks into Makenzies room a few nights a week pretending to do the nighttime routine. Picking out PJ's, Lotion, Stories and rocking in that chair listening to her play list. This normal that leaves me needing a few minutes alone to collect my thoughts every time I hear someone is pregnant. This normal that imagines her in every activity we do on even the simplest days. Imagining her playing on the floor, learning to dance, singing together, teaching her colors and the alphabet. This normal that keeps me up at night. Trying not to let Ryan hear my cry for the millionth time. This normal that makes doing anything extra hard because I know I'm not doing it with her. This normal isn't the most ideal normal. I feel I have come a long way since that day last year. I feel I have grown into a new person. I feel I am doing better than I ever thought I would do.
Ryan and I would always talk about the what ifs in life and when we would even mention the what if something happened to one of our children we both would shutter and say we would just die. We would literally end our life. That we would never be able to live through that. There are days. More than I would like to admit that those thoughts have consumed my mind. I have felt many days I wouldn't need to do anything- that my life would simply end on its own because there is no way it could take another minute of this pain. I am thankful Makenzie helped me see there is a life I still need to live and I'm blessed to have a husband who has been nothing short of incredible through every single second. I wish I could understand. I wish I had an explanation. But like I have said before- that isn't important.
I miss my daughter.
I miss her every second of the day.
I see her in everything. Everyone.
I still cant believe any of this happened. That we were lucky enough to have her life and that we lost that life.
I see her life when I close my eyes. I see her move. I watch her blink. I hear her noises. Then I open my eyes to this normal.
I pray this lifetime doesn't take as long as it sounds. I miss my muffin.
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6 comments :
Kendra -- I don't know you -- you don't know me. I have followed your journey since Makenzie was diagnosed. I've cried, laughed and prayed with/for you. You are amazing in my eyes! Life doesn't always give us what it should -- I don't know why. I wish I could bippity boppity boo it all better. For now I'll listen and read and pray.
Please know that you are in my thoughts and feel the big cyber hug.
Ang
I'm always thinking of you Kendra!!! Hang in there.
I wish there was something I could say that could make this situation all better. I am so sorry you that you have to live this new normal. My heart is heavy for you. Thoughts and prayers coming your way. Makenzie was a beautiful baby...so sweet.
"I have felt many days I wouldn't need to do anything--that my life would simply simply end on its own..." When I read this, it really hit me hard because I know exactly what that feels like. You worded it so well. For months after my son died I was convinced I would just fade away. He was gone and there was simply nothing to hold me to life anymore. In my head, it seemed like the only logical explanation for what had happened--that I would go too. My baby boy died five years ago when he was two weeks old. I would never tell you that it gets better, but of course by now you would know I was lying anyway. I still have days where grief can reach up and snatch me. And it's exactly the same as it was the moment it happened. But on better days, I would say it is so much a part of who I am that I wouldn't recognize myself from five years ago. I try to let my son be the softest side of who I am. I try to let what happened make me into a more beautiful person then I ever would've been without him. I am so impressed with the way you are writing your way through this tragedy. It is a standing testament to your beautiful daughter. So sorry for your loss.
My thoughts are with you! There are no words anyone can say to make the pain and heartache lift. *hugs* You're a strong woman!
Thank you for stopping by and joining the BSF today.
Xx!
You are amazing. Thank you for putting things in perspective for me. Following you through Rockin' Mama
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