Kisses and Bandages

Dear Jordy-Bug,

Whenever your baby sister Joslyn hurts herself or if someone else in the family says "Ow!," she responds with, "It's okay; it will heal. Kiss it and get a bandage!" Easy as that. A kiss and a bandage. Thankfully, in her short little life she hasn't yet experienced a hurt that can't be fixed so easily.

Unfortunately, Mommy and Daddy have.

On the surface, I look like I've healed quite a bit since your death. I get up, get dressed, get your siblings ready, go to work, interact with colleagues, make dinner, enjoy time with Daddy, clean the house, go to the park, sing and dance with Joss and Tyse, go out on occasion with friends, eat ice cream, smile, laugh, yadda, yadda, yadda. Normal events of a normal life on any given day. But I'm not normal. My life isn't normal. And I'm not healed. I don't cry every day like I did the year you died, but I'm definitely not healed.

Carrying and delivering three babies in my forties has taken a toll on me physically and mentally; your death has magnified every issue a hundredfold. On top of fibromyalgia and migraines, I still have a lot of pain in my hips and back, my plantar fasciitis has gotten worse, and I've developed some cardiac issues related to the stress of pregnancy/childbirth, intense weight gain/loss in a short amount of time, and extreme grief. When I first get up in the morning, I walk like an 80 year old woman; I'm a physical mess. A mix of pregnancy, mom, and grief brain has me in a fog more times than I care to admit. Emotionally, I can't begin to tell you how many times I've overreacted to situations because my resilience just isn't there any more. I am exhausted.

About a month ago, Daddy and I started talking about what next school year would look like for us. There were some major changes on the horizon in both his job and in mine. It was a pretty daunting shift for me. After being out of the classroom as an Instructional Coach for nine years, I was asked to teach two middle school classes along with fulfilling my coaching responsibilities. I've never taught middle school before, but after thorough consideration we decided to accept the challenge and do the best we could while trying to be good parents to three children under four years old. Then the chest pains started. I was having CHEST PAINS just thinking about the new responsibilities before me. I'm 44 years old. Chest pains. I already feel like I'm barely keeping it together some days. Chest. Pains. If I'm going to be a good Mommy to Joslyn and Tysen here on earth, I need to be here on earth. Seriously, chest pains? As much as I long to hold you in my arms in heaven, I'm not ready to let this life go just yet. I still have a lot to take care of here...particularly Daddy, Joss, and Tyse. So, Daddy and I made a bold decision for me to step away from working outside the home for a year, and asked my school district to grant me a one-year sabbatical. They graciously did just that. It's an opportunity for me to spend precious time with your brother and sister and to figure out how to really heal in all aspects of the word: physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually. I don't expect to be 100% back to my old self in twelve months, but I expect to be healthier and stronger. I need this for my family and my career. I need to refocus and re-energize, so I can return with renewed purpose. I need to work on true healing.

There have only been a couple people who haven't seemed incredibly supportive of our decision and that's unfortunate, but those people aren't the ones I come home to every day and they're not the ones who have to live with my insufferable self. So...for Daddy, for Joslyn, for Tysen, for you, and for me, I'm "just" going to be a Mommy for a while. Throw me a kiss and grab a bandage, because it's about to get real down here.

I love you, sweet girl!