Left Behind

This girl.

She looks so much like a man she will never meet.

The other acts so much like that part of me that’s made up of the same stuff that he was made of.

I still remember the moment that suicide directly affected me. It’s something you always hear about, it’s always there in the background but never had it really hit home.

I was 8 months pregnant with Scarlett, sitting in the floor of her not yet put together nursery trying to assemble a night stand. My dad called and asked if I was sitting down. Will had died. He killed himself. That was September 9, 2010.

Fast forward three years. In bed 6:30 am, Adam rushes in, you need to see this. Scott is gone. Will’s little brother, Brad’s twin. He killed himself.

I will never pretend to understand what would bring a person to that point. I’ve battled depression since my teens, I’ve been in low places. I’ve had the, “the world would be better off without me”, thoughts. I was a cutter. But I’ve never been to THAT place. The one of no return.

What could we have done? What could I have done?

What can we do?

I did something drastic the day before our second funeral, the one where we buried one more son, brother, nephew, father, cousin, friend. I went into the tattoo parlor and marked a part of me that I will always see. 1mt 1mt, One more thing, One more time.** I will never give up. It’s a reminder to do one more thing than you want to do, one more time than you want to do it. Pick up your pieces and keep moving. I had their birth dates put underneath to keep them near me always, and to remind me to keep going when they thought they could not.

November 23rd is International Survivors of Suicide day. It’s about recognizing the people that are left behind, left to wade through the pieces and pick up where someone they loved could not.

photo credit: afsp.org

Please consider donating to the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. This is a very real and tragic thing, and it could be prevented. If you know someone who you think is struggling please reach out to them, if you don’t know how, then tell someone else that might could help. 50% to 75% of people who attempt suicide tell someone about their intentions.* Visit the AFSP’s site for more resources and info about suicide prevention.

Please, please take the time to reach out to someone you love today. You never know what internal battles they may be fighting. You never know when one conversation may save someone’s life.

Until next time,

J♥

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Note: I was not contacted or asked to write this post by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention. All opinions and statements are my own. This is a subject and organization that is close my heart, I just hope to spare another family the grief we have experienced.

*Resource: afsp.org

** 1mt 1mt is credited to Josh Sundquist. He is a paraylmpic ski racer and an awesome motivational speaker. Check him out when you get a chance. 

Whirlwind and Topsy Turvy

A few days ago I was  laying in bed listening to the baby cry over the monitor wondering how long I would have to *act* like I was asleep so Adam would get up with her. As I was trying to fake my perfect snore I thought back to the time before children. The Saturday (and Sunday for that matter) mornings when we slept until 10 or even “laid” in bed all day. When our mornings didn’t revolve around Mickey Mouse or sippy cups, and our plans didn’t have to be made around nap times. We could go to the grocery store whenever we wanted without the worry that someone would throw a screaming tantrum in the middle of the store (unless of course they didn’t have my wine in stock). I wondered how our lives would be if we had never had children.

Adam and I had a whirlwind courtship. I knew he was the man I was supposed to marry on our first date. We dated for six months before we got engaged and a year later were married. We discussed starting a family but I had been told that I might not be able to conceive because of issues I had had in the past. We decided that just wasn’t what we had planned for our lives. We were going to travel, and spoil our dogs, and enjoy each other.

A month after our first anniversary I found out I was pregnant. I cried. Not because I was happy, but because I didn’t know what Adam would say. This wasn’t what we had planned, how were we going to afford this. Our world was topsy turvy, upside down. My initial shock only lasted a few days, soon I was over the moon for this little life growing inside of me. It took Adam longer to warm up to the idea. I think he mourned longer for the life that we had planned, the one that flew out the window with two little pink lines.

We finally started to settle somewhat into our new life, and a month after Scarlett’s first birthday I found out I was pregnant again. Adam’s first response was “Again?”. Seriously. I cried again, because, how were we going to afford this, this isn’t in our new plan and the new feeling of how can I love another as much as the first. When she came I knew the answer. Your love as a mother, as a parent, doesn’t divide with each child, it multiplies.

We’ve had a crazy year. Again we are starting to settle into our new life as a family of 4. But on this particular morning, the monotony of it all came crashing down on me and I began to wonder what our lives would be like if we didn’t have these girls. No sippy cups or bottles, no cartoons or tea parties, no waking up at the crack of dawn every single day. To go and do as we please. Then, in the middle of my daydream of vacationing in Italy, I hear Adam come back into the bedroom and I roll over and see this face.

And shortly after this one crawls up in the bed.

All my thoughts are washed away. I think to myself “You big idiot!”. This may not be the life we planned, but nothing ever goes as planned. Some of the best adventures are the ones you never expected. We may not travel as much as we would like or get to sleep late on the weekends, we may be on the fast train to the terrorist threes, but our lives are just the way they are meant to be. Perfect.

J ♥

Babies don’t keep

I hate whiny posts. In fact I hate whining period (especially when it’s coming from my 2 year old). BUT I’m so tired. My husband and I work full time, and it always seems that when we get home there are a ton of things to do. Then the baby starts screaming and the toddler is crying because I didn’t fix her chocolate milk just right, or the dog looked at her, or she has just finally realized that the rock she brought in from the driveway two weeks ago is missing. Seriously.

I’m just tired, and that makes me sad. I realized that I’ve spent so much time feeling exhausted and annoyed lately that I’m missing out on my baby crawling, and all the awesome stuff that my 2 year old is learning lately. Scarlett and I actually held a conversation with each other a few days ago and it made me stop and wonder where this little person came from.

There is so much going on in the world, in our country, at work, with our families, that it’s been hard to just stop and enjoy life. To enjoy the fact that Scarlett still comes to me and asks to be held, I know that those moments will soon come to an end. To enjoy Savannah in all her chubby, yummy, sweetness. To enjoy my husband, and the amazing relationship that we share. It’s all so fleeting.

A friend shared this with me a few months ago, and it came to mind this past weekend:

Cleaning and scrubbing can wait till tomorrow
For babies grow up, we’ve learned to our sorrow
So quiet down, cobwebs
Dust, go to sleep
I’m rocking my baby, and babies don’t keep.

~Anon

Babies don’t keep. They may be babies in our hearts forever, but physically it such a sort period of time. They grow up SO fast. By the way, NEVER say this to a parent of a newborn/infant/toddler, they will soon figure it out on their own, trust me. But for now it doesn’t help, it just makes them feel more exhausted/inadequate/angry/(insert crazy parent of a small child emotion here).

I came to a realization today that instead of feeling defeated I wanted to feel joy. I know that it’s not going to happen over night, it’s not even going to happen all the time, but I’m going to try. It’s the trying that counts. If I can say that at least ONE afternoon instead of brushing my toddler off I actually stop and listen to her and make sure that she knows how loved and important she is and I find joy in that, well then I’d say I’m doing pretty good. If I stop and play patty cake with my baby instead of rushing to finish dinner, then I am blessed, or pause to make sure that my husband knows how very much I appreciate all he does for me, then my cup is overflowing.

Find the joy, because babies don’t keep.

♥♥Jess