Happy Birthday to me!

So today (Sept. 25th) is my 24th birthday! I am actually, despite a few obvious setbacks/distractions (which we will get to), pretty excited for tonight. Later tonight, that is...since it's 2:41am and technically my birthday starts when I wake up later. A bunch of friends and family and myself are all going down to our family's lake house for a bonfire/birthday party on the water! I'm excited because for once I'm pretty sure the majority of the people I invited are coming. I have some new friends, some family and some old friends coming. A good mix. It should, for the most part, be a good time.

Speaking of old friends, however, I have gotten myself into quite an awkward situation. An ex-boyfriend of mine, Josh, is going to be at my birthday party. I haven't seen him at all, pretty much since we broke up a year and a half ago. So he texted me to wish me a happy birthday, and asked me if I had any good plans for my day. So I told him about my party; and I said he was more than welcome to come, because he never shows up anywhere I invite him anyway...and I had to be polite and ask. So guess who thinks that's a GREAT idea? Yup, the ex boyfriend. I guess our breakup wasn't as bitter as others of mine have been; but I generally don't invite my ex boyfriends to my birthday parties!!!! What was I thinking? So now I wonder, does he think this is some kind of booty call? Because HELL. NO. If I'm being blunt, it's my time of the month, I can barely walk AT ALL because I sprained my ankle tonight, and I'm not that interested in casual sex anymore. It has to mean something, or I'm not giving myself up or so I say. So Josh is not "getting any", if that's his goal.

And then I think, what if he really is still into me? We didn't break up because we had lost feelings for each other at all. We broke up because it was the wrong time in both of our lives HIS life for a relationship with each other. But I'm a lot different now, so maybe he is, too? Maybe he's never lost contact with me for more than a month since we broke up, because he really does still have feelings for me? Maybe he's the one! Maybe he's realized leaving was a mistake...

...and maybe, it's still just a booty call. I almost can't tell the difference, anymore. Only time will tell.

But like I said, outside of these things, for some reason...I am completely optimistic about my birthday! So I'm basking in the ambiance. Hope all is well out there in blog world!

Wordless Wednesday

Getting old...

To start with, I've had a Mountain Dew and a Dr. Pepper after months of no caffeine and it's 1:00 in the morning...just a warning. In other words, I have a lot on my mind and I don't know quite yet where this post is going, so bear with me.

One thing I've noticed lately is that apparently, my son's story is getting old. He may be turning five in just a few short months, so I suppose I should be "over it" by now, according to those who by the way, could never even IMAGINE losing their children, once, at least pretended to care. Almost no one at all even knew my son existed until less than a year ago, and even those who have known for less than six months are literally already MAKING FUN OF ME for it. Literally. Busting my chops about my dead son, like it's some kind of quirk I have that they can poke fun at. My favorite was my sister's boyfriend telling me, "babies die; get over it." REALLY? Because last time I checked, old people are supposed to die and babies are supposed to live...correct? Sometimes I want to say, "Yeah, well then I hope it's YOUR kid some day." But I would never, because one: I would never wish this life upon anyone else, no matter what they did to me; and two: it's not going to get me anywhere. So I have bitten my tongue. Another excellent one was "Not today. I don't have the time or patience for your problems right now." Thanks a lot, best friend of mine...(with beautiful, breathing, healthy children, mind you.) About a month ago, I was with my brother, my sister and her boyfriend, and an episode of House, M.D. came on in which a premature baby boy is on a table being shocked back to life, and eventually, dies right there on screen. I asked nicely a few times, and then eventually not so nicely if they could PLEASE turn it off. They literally LAUGHED, turned it up, and then told me a I was a crazy b****. Yes, you read that correctly. Oh, and my sister's boyfriend, being the biggest **** of them all, said another cute thing to me on our recent cruise (in front of 20 people, by the way: "your son's lucky he's dead, because his mother's such crazy b*tch he would have killed himself by now anyway." I couldn't speak, and ran off crying through a crowd of witnesses. On my top ten of life's worst moments, let me tell you.

So...needless to say, having a birthday party for Trevor is now something that unfortunately is not comfortable for me to do, because my story is getting old, and annoying. I was so excited, too! But celebrating my son's life, is now something I feel ashamed about...AGAIN. I thought I had gotten past this? I thought my ex was the only a**hole person who could have no feeling for something so precious. Apparently, I'm the only one who does. Regardless, I will lose all of my friends and family before I let my son's memory fade AGAIN. I betrayed my little man for far too long, and I will forever make it up to him.

On that note, my story is not the only thing getting old around here. I'm turning twenty-four a week from today (Sept. 25th), but I feel one-hundred and twenty-four. I'm exhausted, worn out, overwhelmed and weakened, trying to keep my son's memory alive. I'm tired from the guilt and embarrassment I feel even speaking his name. THIS IS NOT RIGHT. It can't be. What is wrong with these people? Am I the crazy one? Is it me, or is everyone I know cold-hearted and cruel? I'm also tired from consciously holding back when I feel like mentioning him; or interjecting about the ups and not-so-obvious downs of my pregnancy along with the other mothers. They look at me like I don't belong in their conversation, because I have to step out as soon as it gets to the living baby in your arms part...that part didn't last so long for me. I'm not able to chime in with the cute little things Trev did as a baby. Or give advice on parenting to someone who's technically been a mother for less time that I have.

What I've figured out is that no one really cares about anyone else for an extended period of time. And that 24 sucks. Because everyone I know is either on the end of the scale where they're married with living children and a life, or on the other end, where stuff like that is unfathomable because after all, we're only 24, right? Either way, I've learned that the one thing that makes it impossible to fit in with anyone at all, is having a dead baby...and unfortunately, my son is not here with me; so I guess I'm one of those people who will never fit in.

...I guess I'm getting old.

"Tied together with a smile, but (I'm) coming undone"

It's been cold for the past few days = fall is coming; and I can't wait to jump off a bridge see the leaves turn red. I'm so distraught happy that Trevor's birthday is coming up! My birthday of course comes first (Sept. 25th), but there's no even thinking of that once it starts to feel like fall again. In 2004, I was only consciously pregnant from late August (like, this week) until November 22, when my Angel was born and went to be with God. Autumn weather has always been my favorite time of year, and it's bittersweet totally awesome. And it does NOT feel like it's been 5 years already! My baby boy should be heading to pre-school, if not kindergarten next week, and it's killing me very nostalgic!

Okay, time for brutal honesty: I wish I could just f****ng enjoy the fall like every other normal person!!!!!! Autumn used to be the happiest time of the year; my birthday, my best friend's birthday, apple picking, pumpkin patches, hayrides, haunted houses, costumes, cool, crisp air, fallen leaves, boots, sweaters, good food, honoring our Veterans, my son's birthday...oh wait, not planning my son's birthday party; planning his memorial ceremony. Not dressing him up like Spiderman or Batman or whoever the heck he wants to be. He's not turning 5, he's not unpredictable, and definitely not melting me more every day with his words. Oh, and he's not sooooo smart and he's not getting soooo big! I can't wait to not drop him off at pre-school; you know the day where mothers everywhere say they're "letting go" of their babies? You don't know the meaning!!!!!!

Don't worry though, I'm doing worse than I've ever been because it's the first year that everyone will know about Trevor's birthday and I have a memorial to plan just fine.

"Nicholas" and I on Trevor's 1st birthday, 11/22/05

Inspired

So it just hit me, for the nine-thousandth time, again...how amazing the unspoken bond between those who have lost a child, is. First of all, I have never felt my son's life so honored as it has been through my fellow Baby Lost blog Moms and Dads! I mean, some of you have done the simplest things that have touched my heart forever. You've written Trevor's name in the sand, you've made him Angel wings, you've shared his story all around the world! Then there are those of you I've met in person. You have taught me so much about my grief; how it is unpredictable and sometimes unbearable...but I know I'll always pull through, because you have.

On this note, I feel compelled to share this story: Last sunday was the third anniversary of when my Daddy passed away (July 26th). We all met as a family at the cemetery, and as I was walking towards my father's headstone, I saw a couple kneeling on the ground in front of a beautiful black and gold stone. I noticed there were quite a lot of little toys and fire truck trinkets and child-themed balloons. I realized then, that this was a couple mourning the loss of their precious son. I was afraid of being rude, but I had to say something. I walked over and apologized for interrupting, but I told them that I also had a precious baby boy who passed away, and that I was sorry for their loss. Their son lived only three weeks and went to be with the Angels just months before my Trevor was born. By the end of the conversation, his mother and I were hugging and crying. But it felt good, in a way. They agreed that they felt better, in a bittersweet way, having run into me. This encounter was a wonderful work of God, was the general outlook on the situation. And it was.

Samuel Shaun Beausoleil was born on July 20, 2004 and went to the Angels on August 18th of that same year. Please keep him and his wonderful, loving parents in your thoughts and prayers as they go through that "dreaded month" with birthdays/anniversaries that we all have to face every year.

Thank you to all who have honored my son's life and legacy. God bless you all and I pray every day for you and your precious Angels. It's the least I can do. Don't forget to pray for Samuel and the Beausoleils!

Stellan

Everyone, please pray for MckMama's baby boy Stellan!

He was born a miracle, and has been having trouble the past few days staying well.  He and his family desperately need your prayers!  So please, keep in in your thoughts.

Quick Update & Random New Pic :-)

Me at the 311 concert

(the first one, LOL)

I don't have much time today, but I felt like I needed to blog a bit.    Subconsciously, I haven't been blogging on purpose, because my last post was the 22nd post I've written.  Every time I logged in, it would tell me, 22 posts.  I figured it was Trevor telling Mama he likes the new blog layout! ;-)

I guess you could say things are going a little better than my past few blogs.  Not that the pain or hurt or concern is gone; but maybe...just maybe...I'm learning to cope?  Maybe this is the point at which it gets easier?  (If, that is, that point exists at all.)  Then I feel guilty, though, for not being depressed all the time.  I feel guilty for going an hour without missing my son so much it hurts.  I feel guilty for not crying when I think that he's not here; for smiling when I realize he's in his own little mansion in Heaven.  I know that's what Trev would want me to do; smile.  But somehow I feel like I'm losing the bond I've had with him for so long now.  I feel like he's no longer the first thing I think about when I wake up; or the last thing before I fall asleep.  He should be!  Right?  I also haven't even thought about my recent miscarriage.  I did write to Austin, letting him know what happened because it's his right to know.  But I feel guilty for almost being "over it".  I mean, I'm certainly not okay with it, and there are days where I go "Okay, so today I should be 9 weeks pregnant, and instead I'm drinking margaritas," but it's not eating me alive like I think it should be.

Overall, I think it's just been so long since I was happy, or at least okay, that it doesn't feel right.  Maybe I'm just having a good week...and I'm sure there will be bad weeks to come.  But maybe my life really will turn around this time.  Maybe I will learn to remember my son and not cry all the time.  Maybe I will, in a way, "move on" (to the best of a Baby Lost Mama's ability, anyway).  I'm just not sure I want to, or that I'm ready to, yet.