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Monday, March 14, 2016

Sharing Truth


People say that I am brave, but I'm not.
Truth is, I'm barely hanging on...

The above statement couldn't be more true in this moment. Like I've said before, I am so touched by music on this journey, and if you haven't listened to I Will Carry You, by Selah, please take a few minutes to do that. It is the most perfect 4 minutes of a song I feel tells our story so well. Go ahead...I'll wait.

When I sit down to blog, I've usually had a topic in mind for a few weeks. I've rolled it around in my head, considered its message, polished my thoughts and usually have processed the feelings involved before even sitting to type. Bear with me...because tonight is no such blog.

To share my heart in real time is a very vulnerable position for me; but today, in the span of about 10 minutes, I was flooded with emotions that I need to get out. About an hour ago, I shared a couple pictures of Pipes. Pictures I hadn't seen, but when I look at them, I could immediately tell you what was going on in our NICU journey when they were taken....and it's not what you think. You can "like" and comment about that sweet sweet baby snuggling her lovies; but I know the truth behind the pictures.

What you don't know: is how much I had to edit these pictures to feel ok to post them. The unedited pictures brought up a slew of memories of where we were last year...quietly suffering through the hardest time of our life. You see, my grief didn't start the day Piper Grace died. I have actually been pretty proud that I've been able to live, hold my head up, and give back the way we have in the months since June 2015. 

Tonight reminded me that my grief, the dirty ugly shitty grief that sneaks up on you and grabs your throat...reminds you that life isn't normal...THAT grief - started this same time last year. 

Tonight I realized that my journey with grief may hit a tough tough patch...starting now. I grieve the conversations we had to make. I grieve the feeling of losing a battle while my child was still alive, I grieve this time of year because of the word "de-escalation."

Last year, this is when it hit the fan. When Piper cued us in that her journey on Earth may not have meant to be long. When we had to be honest with ourselves, and agree that we needed to be ok with letting her say goodbye. This time of year sucks. March. April. May. All months we struggled with grief as we watched poor Pipes get bluer and bluer. We prayed that her time here wasn't for nothing. We let go of our selfish need to keep her here for us. This time last year, we gave it to God and Pipes - we relinquished control, we let her be...and waited for her farewell. 

If you have ever had to do that...it's the suckiest thing ever, waiting for someone to exit this world, knowing it's best for them...but your heart is breaking at the thought of it. These pictures today, reminded me of my loss of control. My start of the ugly grief...and that scary wait.

Here is my sweet sweet baby, last March. UNEDITED. The difference in her color might not seem too vast for you, but they remind me of the end of our Earthly fight; and regardless of the good that has come of this, it's still damn hard to remember coming to the realization that her body was too tired. Sweet, peaceful, tired Pipes...teaching us.

               

I'm really unsure that this post even has a point, other than to be real and share a struggle a fellow mom might be having. If I'm making no sense, I apologize. (Not really, I make perfect sense to myself, so who cares! HA!)

Maybe the point is: it's 100% OK to NOT be OK! Let's be honest with ourselves, kind to our fragile hearts and minds, and remember that any journey in this life is NOT on a straight road.
To be clear, my effing journey is on a dirt road, covered in cow poop and pot holes, with blind curves and tummy turning hills...but I'm ok with that. Word.



4 comments:

  1. Very profound, grab your heart and soul words and thoughts - thank you for sharing with us as we learn so much on this journey you've allowed us to witness .. God Bless

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  2. Tara, I can't even imagine all that you have gone through and had to deal with. I can only tell you that you are a strong woman and very brave. You share your personal story with the world and I am sure that you have helped and touched many lives that you may never know about. I admire your strength and courage to do this. I know that heaven has a wonder soul up there and she is looking down on you every day. God bless you!

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  3. Tara,
    Blog away, cry, grieve do what you need to do (Within law abiding reason) it's OK. Remember there is no time limit on grief. It's like the waves of an ocean, sometimes the grief comes in gently and then other times...hurricane force. Hang on Mamma, try to find the joy even in the darkest time. That is what God would like us to do. Remember "she has not diminished in size"

    Much love your way. Tell Matty it's ok for guys to cry too. ;)

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  4. Thank goodness you wrote this! Here I thought I was the only crazy, sad one grieving the loss of my daughter to CDH on June 1, 2014 (She lived from 3/8/23014 - 6/1/2014). Your explanation of the pain in knowing that you child would not survive and not being able to do anything about it is all too familiar. Like you, I can pinpoint the almost exact moment when I knew her battle was over and I just really wanted her to go in peace with no pain. It was the most difficult realization and then having to sit and wait for the time when she would take her last breath. I want you to know that what you say and do does make a difference to someone like me that is grieving her own loss to know that it is OK not to be ok. Bless you and your family for everything you do in her name!

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