Sometimes I wonder what you might have been like today. For us moms who lost our babies before or shortly after birth.

I do not talk about you much at all. My little 1 pound 15 ounce baby boy Paul Ryan. It is not because I am ashamed but because the pain is so great of never knowing who you might have become. You lived two days before a vessel in your brain bled out. You were beautiful. And my only son that I know of.
After you, I had your sister Nikki and she was 3 pounds and 14 ounces and she lived to be 23 when she was taken from us in a car accident and that was another time my heart was torn. Then I kept trying and I had many two month pregnancies before your baby brother or sister ( I never knew) just didn’t make it. Time to dream but not enough time to know. Finally, I had your youngest sister, Amber and she is fine and has a little one of her own now.
But, you and Nikki and your unknown siblings are in Heaven. It hurts when I think of her and when I think of you. I guess it hurts more with you and Nikki because I saw you, I touched you, I kissed your faces. That doesn’t mean those I never met didn’t hurt though. I am so blessed to have one of you left here with me and I have so much joy from that and my little grand child of love.
I wish I could have watched you grow, play, laugh and see what it was like for a son of mine to become a man. But, I hold your little face in my heart and I love you all. I just sometimes wonder what my little boy would be like today. I love you Paul Ryan.

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Sometimes I get so angry that I can’t just be me …… And still be loved.

Sometimes I DO get angry that I cannot be accepted for who I am and still be loved. I understand I can be out spoken, that I do not live the way most do, happy, hiding behind pain, or some who are just fake and smile at everyone but talk about them behind their back. Or even just nice people who cannot deal with any emotions except joy and smiling and I do not begrudge them, they just have to be who they are and I love them anyway.

However, in most cases I cannot get the same back in return. Yes, I laugh and I have fun. But I do not hide my pain because I can’t. I survive this crazy world of panic and anxiety but I also know that brings with it a lot of over thinking and things like that. I am outspoken yes, but at least I am honest about it. I am REAL.

I do not have friends because people cannot take a blunt, open person I guess. Or they cannot face a person with “issues”. But sadly, they never meet the person with the big heart who will do anything I can for anyone. Who cries for those who are broken. Who wants to be a part of things but sometimes I am aware I will not be accepted.

I just want to know why people can’t accept me as I am and still love me?

The Search……

We, so many of us, search for the impossible dream.
Only to find it was there all along.
It wasn’t money, it wasn’t fame, it wasn’t popularity or being the best.
It is a smile from someone who cares
The soft flow of a brezze
The kiss and hug from a child
The sound of ocean waves as they roll onto the beach
Laughter
Birds singing a song
Friends
A beautiful world filled with flowers and mountains and so much The joy of being loved.
It is there. We just have to look and the search stops.

Anxiety, Panic and the two of me in one……

I have realized I have two mes. Not a split personality but one part of me that is the old me, still strong and bold. The other me that started when the panic and anxiety came and I seem to cause everything to bother me or I get anxious or panicked. Same person but conflicting emotions.
There are times when I am fine and I handle things like I used to. That person had deep faith, a strong personality, to strong sometimes and then there is the panic me that worries about everything, prays to get that strength back in whole , cries, panics, worries and that part of me I do not like.
Because it shouldn’t be happening but it is. Maybe some of it is past issues and maybe some of it is things I repressed for so long coming out but whichever, not something I like.
I sometimes wonder if I can use the old me to goad the me now into going back and fixing whatever started this. But I think I have to just stop over thinking. I have to stop making disasters out of things that have not and probably will NOT happen. BUT, if they do, then I just have to deal with it.
What about my fellow brothers and sisters who go through this? Do yuo have a thought, opinion or advice?

I think of you…..everyday.

I know you left us so many years ago and we never got to say goodbye. I never got to see you again after that day because the wreck was so bad and the car blew up. But I want you to know that I think of you everyday. I will never forget your laughter or that beautiful smile.
I will never forget how hard you fought to make bullies your friend but you were a bit different. A little bit of Autism can do that. I know how you got through each day and it was hard when you were young but as you got older you decided to fight back with kindness. That must have been so hard when it was years before you could relate to others like other kids did.
But you got better and you got stronger and you laughed and you made our family laugh and you didn’t care what anybody thought about you because you accepted yourself for you. That made me so proud. I miss all of that and our talks on the porch and the way you had of making things better.
But just so you know, I STILL think of you everyday. I will love you. Always. Love, mom. Sara Nicolle “Nikki”. 1984-2007.

When Life is just worried.

Life can be beautiful and it can worry you to the point of exhaustion, no sleep, hours of thinking of everything wrong. So, I am trying, in my case anyway, to focus on the right and not the worries. I try to find something beautiful even on hard days and though I do not always succeed, I am still trying. And I guess that is the point. We HAVE to at least try.

I am. Me.

I am learning each day to accept me for who I am . Not the mold I am supposed to be but the real, actual me. Sometimes I have anxiety. Sometimes I have anger. Sometimes I laugh and sometimes I cry. I post memes because they make me laugh. I write. I create art. My kind of art. Not what is popular or in the “love” type of the year. I am outspoken but loyal and goodhearted. A bit too sensitive at times and easily get my feelings hurt but then I can be tough. I am strange to some people, I do not easily make friends for reasons I do not understand but I accept it. Because, I am. Me.