This will not take long.

Today is October 27th, Zoe's birthday. I could not go to bed, and let this day go by without acknowledging it.

October 27th, 2005. That's when she was born. I loved her. I love her.

Zoe, sweetest baby girl.. I miss you so much that it hurts to breathe.. It hurts to move, it hurts to think.. It's been four years, and I have missed you for three. I take that back, I missed you the second I had you and knew I would never be able to keep you with me. And oh my god.. I miss you more than ever tonight. My life has steadily become a disheveled mess of hurt, but I would go through this millions of times if it meant that you could have stayed in my arms forever. I picked up one of your blankets the other day and I fell to pieces when your scent had faded off. I do not know how to keep going without you, I do it anyways though. And it is wretched walking through each day, having to wake up every morning and forcing myself to accept that I will not walk in the living room to find you playing, or eating or smiling your pretty smile at me.. Forcing myself to accept that I will not comb your red curls. Forcing myself to accept that it's real, and I will not wake to find your curled into my chest and smelling like lavender.
You are the only thing in my life that I am proud of, and I wish I could be so much better than who I am now, for you. I am trying baby.. Nomatter what, I could never be more proud of you. You deserved a much more wonderful mommy than me, but you were mine.. and I love you more than I could ever write or say or show you. And I just wish you were here right now, touching me with your baby girl hand and making me feel so much better..

I love you baby girl, you always will be my entire heart.. I just wish and wish that I could tell you how much I love you and miss you.. It's so empty without you, and I am so lonely. I miss the way you would just sit with me and make me feel like I was accepted, nomatter what. Nomatter my choices, or mistakes..

I love you my baby... so much. so so much.. I just hate at the end of every night, it just feels like saying goodbye to you all over again.. and I know its because I am so sad.. But I honestly feel you all time, and think of you in everything I do..

I miss you more than physically possible that it spans limitless.. I love you. I love you baby..

I don't get it!

I always figured life works itself out, eventually. It's a common philosophy, and often we are taught it early in life. Don't sweat the small stuff, follow your heart, it all happens for a reason etc. I say what a load of fluff.
Everything happens for a reason, sometimes when a person pieces this sentiment together and unleashes it upon me for what seems like my benefit, I am often struck by an overwhelming desire to run through a glass door. Not everything happens for a reason, quite often, terrible things happen for no reason at all. Everything simply happens, and not for the benefit of anyone. Lives are destroyed, and people hurt because there really is no other choice. Someone has to get the short end of the stick. (Or is it the straw?) We say that everything happens for a reason, because it we stopped believing that, then we'd realize how little control we really have. Oftentimes we try to excuse it all by claiming we have learned valuable life lessons through trying experiences. Who cares? "Valuable life lessons," are only there to cover up how much we have lost, and how deeply rooted the damage is.
Lucky few grow in open acceptance, re-learning the art of love and vulnerability. And while life is a continuous bout of learning, we do not all continue to grow. Some digress from places of warmth and individuality, to coldness. These people walk amongst you, mothers, children, husbands, bosses, and seem life-like. If you could hear their minds, you might would discover that people can become unrecognizable to themselves as a life. Apathy, loneliness, ambivalence, mistrust, these are the diseases of humankind; stopping you in your tracks and letting you question if you really, truly and honestly, love anything at all.
And it's stupid. Stupid that life is going to be hard, and that we all will be hurt in various traumatizing ways. Life is not hard so that it can teach you coy lessons in appreciation and coping. Events come and go leaving all the negative space around our bodies without even the slightest consideration for how much we can take before our minds begin to shut down and we shut ourselves off from the world, each other, and to our own self. And everything happens. People we have loved die, relationships end, and the people who hurt us go free.
While we might never have understanding for each other, at least the common thread of heartache connects us all in sometimes twisted, but comforting ways.

I have a day off of work, and aside from this pile of laundry, I am perfectly content to sit here and blog while listening to Chris Thile sing me some Heart in a Cage.

I have also discovered Hana Pestle, who sings beautifully and I do not mind putting her on repeat.

This blog is not interesting at all.. I am going to have to brainstorm to make this thing even remotely readable.

I'll do it later. I'm being distracted by Chris Thile, myspace, and the need to shave my legs.

This Ramen isn't Hitting the Spot

I am pretty lame at posting in my blog I have here, not to mention I have not necessarily been in a writing mood as of late. Typically I feel like like if I can't write anything wonderfully, I'd rather be that lazy person and just avoid the work.
This week my husband is out of town working, and I am in the routine of shower, work, sleep, when he is gone. I understand a healthy relationship requires some personal space every once in awhile, but a whole week of "space" far exceeds said recommended amount. I will be one of those pining women if I please and openly admit that I miss my husband constantly when he is away. I miss him talking in his sleep to me, (Having whole conversations about the need to purchase insurance for our cat) not to mention he is a great space heater in drafty rooms. I miss coming home to him after work and doing mundane things like watching re-runs of House and The Colbert Report on www.hulu.com. (Though I can not seem to force him to watch re-runs of Buffy The Vampire Slayer with me.) I miss him cracking jokes about the most random of subjects and the quick come-backs. It's also his birthday this week, (March 3rd) and I will not get to be there with him in Panama City and bake him a cake or give him his present or anything.. which makes both of us sad.
I thought about sending flowers, or a super-lame singing telegram, but I figured he would probably be less annoyed with not having a present on his exact birthdate, as opposed to me spending nearly forty bucks on something that is going to wither in a week, or show up singing at his doorstep wearing a fruit basket on their head. ...I'll just wait for the weekend.

On another note, I am working at a place called MatchMaker International. No, it is not an escort service. Yes, it is a match making company, and I don't mean the things you light a fire with. My title within the company is that of "Telephone Counselor" which is actually not much more than a receptionist who goes a little bit above the call of duty. What happens is that people submit their dating profiles to us directly via internet at www.gulfcoastsingles.net, or call us from signs we have put out, or just from flipping throught the Yellow Pages. I receive and make calls, establish contact with the individual, relay the details of our introductory service (Confidential, memebership program, criminal background check, making sure everyone is financially stable, etc.) and I take a loose history of their dating life, past, and current desires. Upon doing so I set up an appointment time, in which they will hopefully show up to and purchase one of the packages we offer. I receive commission based on the sale etc. Currently I am not the crappiest employee, I am actually ranked in the No.1 spot amongst other associated who perform my same job description.
It's a pretty fun job, not to pyschotic and I am not miserable to have to go to work everyday, but of course it is not fulfilling to my ambition or future educational desires. It works for now, and hopefully will work right toward that education I look forward to, amongst other things.

Lance and I also have a house! Unfortunately, it will be a while before we are able to completely move into it. It is located in Coden, alabama. (Coden is beyond bayou la batre) It is not our "dream home" but it is a home and we are attatched to the wrecked, little thing. Working on it has been like completly rebuilding a new home, which in the end is not too bad... We will definitely get more than what we paid for it when we choose to sell one day.. It's just going to be nice to have someplace to call OUR home. We have my mother's house which feels like my home, and his mother's which has been his home for a long time too... But we've not really had a place to call our own.. and It's going to be so nice to have that. It's out in the boonies a little bit, but I don't care! With some TLC, it's going to be wonderful. Maybe I will try to get some pictures up here of our gradual progress.

This blog is boring, I know.. Maybe I will try to get something a little less junky up here this week. I am sleepy now, and I am not quite looking forward to snuggling a pile of unfolded clothes, when my cuddle partner is a state away. I need to get up in the morning and work on my house, tear down some more walls and whatever else I am capable of doing without breaking it.

Debbie Downer

It's been over a year since i have taken time out to write in this little blog. I am still reluctant to put it all back out there, but I think it's time i take on a positive form of communication that I feel at ease with, and writing my thoughts out has always been my ideal form of expression. So here I am again, plucking away at a keyboard and trying to bring out all the "tangible" in head that always seems to have thoughts strewn in every direction. I always imagined that the artistic portrait of my mind would look alot like my room, disorganized with random crap stuffed into whatever corner or cubby that would keep it somewhat concealed. I don't really have a method to my madness, it's just your run of the mill chaos that you promise to clean up, but never get around to doing it. That's right folks, I'm the panty drawer that you lost your keys in. Or is that the refridgerator? Whatever the cliche is, I buy into it like it's Wal-Mart stock.

I feel as if something needs to be said in regard to my last entry I had made, about my baby Zoe. October 27th was her 3rd birthday, and I really had not realized until then how deeply rooted grief is, and how long it stays with you. I had never intended to push the process of grieving to the side, but I believe it is most human's nature to try and put it off as long as possible.. but now it taken double the time for the heartbreak to even ebb away. This October 27th was a complete breakdown of my defenses against going through this process, never have I so acutely felt the realization of what my life is like without her physically here with me. And someone who has never experienced the realoty of losing a child, can not fully understand the depth of what i am trying to write.
Everyday I feel like i am clawing myself out of a pit and trying to go completely insane. My world often feels surreal to the point that it's as if I am watching myself from a bird's eye, and this unrecognizable person is performing routines and going through the motions of life. I will be at work, and suddenly I am nearly toppled by this desire cry and scream and punch holes in wall. Otherwise, My mind is so far away from tasks that days begin to blend seamlessly together, and the biggest and smallest thoughts are shadowed by my memories and the grief that follows soon thereafter. I often wonder how will I ever be able to get anywhere close to getting past not having been able to finish raising her, and watching her grow.. her life would never have been anything similar to a normal child but way of her hydranencephaly.. but if anything, it makes it that much harder.
Every holiday and event is peaked with this overwhelming knowledge that I will be unable to do these wonderful things I loved doing when i was growing up, and still enjoy into adulthood. Carving a pumpkin, cooking thanksgiving dinner, decorating a christmas tree... These events are monumental attestations of something I will never have. I see other parents partaking in these tasks with their children, and all I can feel is the sting of loss, forcing myself to accept this over and over again. I don't think many people truly understand how it feels, and the extent of which the loss of a child affects a parent.
And I feel so guilty for admitting this, but I have let this grief transfer onto the people I love, and damage my relationships. I have become so untouchable at times, that I can't even believe the way I act and react. It's so alien to me, but it's like a train I can't stop. I know, for a fact, that Zoe would not have me feel so torn and detached from everyone I love, and maybe it's of my own guilt and selfishness that I continue to feel this way. But one day i began to forget the exact way she smiled and I felt devastated, as if I were forgetting her.. The human mind can be such a stupid thing, time making us gradually forget all the things we hold so close to our hearts. A couple days later i had a dream about with her in it, nothing long or drawn out, but it was wonderful, and heartbreaking at the same time. I dreamt that my mother and I were standing outside of some insignificant store, and I had zoe in her stroller. I looked at her and stroked her cheek, and she smiled at me. That was the end of the dream, and I recall it everyday when i feel like i am losing bits and pieces of my memories.
I know to honor her, I need to keep moving on with this process of grief. She would not have me be broken all the time, but I miss her so damned much that there are days that I just can't stop it from running me over like a semi-truck. I expected to have bad days and good days, and hours and minutes in between of happiness and complete, uncontrollable sorrow.. But not even the best words can express how exactly I feel, and grieve, nor how difficult it is for those on the outside of my own existence who love and cherish me dearly to have to take a path in this road with me.
But like always, the words I get so tired of hearing, are true.. One day at a time. I hate that stupid, overused, phrase, sounds like a gentler way of "Just get over it." But I really know no other way of living.. Just to live life as it comes with all the crap it brings, and all the greatness it can posses.
I wonder sometimes, as much as I ache to have more children, if i could do it again.. Risk my heart to such uncertainty.. It seems like such a bad idea, having children. But My sister is having a baby soon, and i think it's the most beautiful thing in the world, and I hope one day I will be so lucky again to have another child in my life I can love as much as I love my Zoe. Which if anything, I learned I need to hold close and love my family and friends.. And I have not been doing a good job at that, and i suppose it starts with loving myself again too, which I have not done for a very long time.

I love you baby Zoe, and you are the most perfect thing I ever had enter into my life. And if I can have nothing else in this life to call mine and be proud of it, and if I never do anything beautiful ever again.. I will have had you.

I don't write it the way I want it. But I'll do it anyways.

I have been mulling the contents of this posts over in my mind for the past week and a half, almost. Several times over, I have decided against even writing this due to the fact that grief paralyzes any writing skill I possess. I hate to even risk cheapening the way I feel with some words that spill out of some part of me. There is no objectivity here, there is no sarcastic defense for me to fall back on. But I think it is necessary that I write about this, because I can think of nothing more important. So here I am, trying.

For those who know me, they know that I had a child named Zoe. Although she was the product of something violent and without-consent, she was beautiful and I would have had her no other way. Zoe had a severe birth defect called Hydranencephaly, a defect where one's cerebellum and brain stem were intact, but the cerebrum was missing and in it's place was cerebro-spinal fluid. Upon prenatal diagnosis, my family was informed that this defect was incompatible with life, and she was sure to die before birth.
When she was born, we were told that she would not live past a few days, and did not have the ability to suck a bottle, or even learn at all. But Zoe was always a bit of a stubborn girl and learned how to suck a bottle, and although she was only expected to live a week, she lived nearly a year and five months.
Zoe passed away last tuesday in her grandfather's arms.
And the grief, at times, is overwhelming to the point of surreality.
Since then several friends have asked me how I feel. I have lost my child, sometimes I feel as if I could not be truly happy ever again. I know that this is the dynamics of grief, but that does not make it seem any less honest. I am inconsolable, and I miss her. I miss her crooked smile, playing the hands game with her, watching ER on the couch every morning with her, watching her yawn, seeing her grimace every time I fed her a green colored baby food.. I miss putting on her pajamas, and her powdery smell.
And even though there were times that loving her meant accepting a part of my life that was hurtful and nightmarish, I loved her like any mother would love their baby.
She was the closest thing to perfect I have ever touched, or loved.. and she taught me how to love myself in spite of my guilt and faults.
Zoe taught me that somethings things happen in our lives that are unexpected, and unasked for, but these things shape us in every definable, tangible, and intangible way.

And sometimes I do not even know what I feel. I just feel... Mostly I am just grief-stricken, or angry. Anger is a funny thing when it becomes a result of loss. But we are all wild when we take to another arms.. later realizing we would have it no other way.
I am devastated, and I am furious... but I am thankful. I am thankful she was ours..

The days do not get easier, there are just bad days and good days.. It has not reached a progressive stage yet. Sometimes I come across a sock, or a bonnet, or a little plastic spoon..or even a baby food label, and I weep because sometimes it feels so unfair... And sometimes I miss her so much, I can hardly stand it. I miss her chubby toes, and multiple chins. I miss her crazy red hair (the shark fin) and her pretty blue eyes. My god, she was so pretty.

I just wish this were more coherent.. and explained half of the enormity of what I feel. I am less without her.
i love you more than these stupid words.. I love you more than anything, my littlest girl.

A Funny Thing Happened on the Way Home

I swear to God I just saw Steven Spielberg in a beat up Chevy truck. He stopped right next to me at an intersection on University. It was Stephen, I could tell by the facial hair growth.